Hot flashes

When Xiao Jue woke up, it was already daylight. Sunlight slanted in from the cave entrance and fell on Zhou Heng's face.

His eyes were closed, his head against the cave wall, his posture very awkward. One leg was curled up, the other stretched out straight, as if he didn't even have the strength to move.

His face was pale, and there were two dark bluish patches under his eyes.

Zhou Heng's hands hung at his sides, his fingertips covered in mud, and his fingernails were black.

There was a thin scratch on the base of the thumb; the blood had dried and congealed into a dark red line that stretched from the base of the finger to the wrist.

Xiao Jue slowly sat up. His head was still a little dizzy, and the scenery in front of him swayed for a moment. He closed his eyes, waiting for the dizziness to pass before opening them again.

The bamboo tube was placed next to it.

It was made of a thin, hollow bamboo tube. The charcoal lead inside had been removed and was placed aside. The outer wall of the bamboo tube was still damp with water, glistening slightly in the morning light.

He picked up the bamboo tube. It was very light. He could barely feel its weight in his palm.

His fingers gripped the bamboo tube tightly.

He turned to look at Zhou Heng.

Zhou Heng was still asleep, in the same position, completely still. The light outside the cave brightened a bit, shining on his profile and revealing the fine downy hairs on his face.

Xiao Jue stood up. His legs were a little weak, and he held onto the cave wall for a while before he could steady himself. He walked to Zhou Heng and squatted down.

There were ash marks on Zhou Heng's cheeks that he didn't know when they had been rubbed on.

He stretched out his hand, his fingers stopping in mid-air.

He looked at his hands. They were covered in mud, dried blood, and blisters from holding the knife yesterday. They were dirty, rough, and smelled of blood.

He slowly withdrew his hand, wiped it on his clothes until it was clean, and then stretched it out again.

Her fingertips touched Zhou Heng's cheek.

Xiao Jue's fingertip landed on the gray mark and gently wiped it away. His finger slid down to Zhou Heng's lips, where there was a thin, dry crack that connected with the cracks on his lips, like a dried-up riverbed.

Then he lowered his head. His lips landed on Zhou Heng's fingertips.

It was as light as a feather falling on the water.

Zhou Heng's fingers curled slightly, then relaxed. He didn't wake up.

Xiao Jue knelt there.

He gently lifted Zhou Heng's hand and held it in his palm.

Those hands were cold, with distinct knuckles and slender fingertips, as if they could never gain weight no matter how much they were cared for. The scratch on the web of the hand had scabbed over with dark red, lying across the skin, a shocking sight.

Xiao Jue knelt there, head bowed, shoulders trembling slightly.

Tears fell drop by drop, onto Zhou Heng's hands, onto her own knees, and onto the dust on the ground.

After a long while, he raised his head. He gently placed Zhou Heng's hand back, then stood up, turned around, and walked out of the cave.

The spring is located on the mountainside.

Xiao Jue squatted down, cupped the water in his hands, and took a sip.

He scooped up some water and washed his face. The water was so cold that it made him shiver. He washed away the tear stains on his face and rubbed the dried blood off his hands.

He stood up, looked around, found a large leaf, rolled it into a funnel shape, filled it with water, and carefully carried it back.

When he reached the cave entrance, half of the water had already leaked out. He turned sideways and slowly crawled in, reaching Zhou Heng's side. Zhou Heng was still asleep.

Xiao Jue brought the leaf to Zhou Heng's lips and tilted it. Water dripped down the veins of the leaf and onto Zhou Heng's lips.

Zhou Heng's lips moved, and he subconsciously opened them. Water flowed in, he swallowed, and then opened them again.

Xiao Jue fed him little by little, very slowly.

Zhou Heng's eyelashes fluttered, and he slowly opened his eyes.

Xiao Jue knelt before him, holding the leaf in his hands. There was still some water in the leaf, reflecting the sunlight overhead.

Zhou Heng was stunned for a moment when he saw him.

"You're awake?" he asked, his voice hoarse and unlike his own.

Xiao Jue nodded. He handed him the leaf, "Have some water."

Zhou Heng lowered his head and finished the rest of the water. The leaf slipped from his hand and fell to the ground.

"You didn't sleep all night," Xiao Jue said.

Zhou Heng paused for a moment, then shook his head. "Asleep."

Xiao Jue remained silent.

Zhou Heng felt a little uncomfortable under his gaze and turned his head away.

Xiao Jue reached out and took his hand. Zhou Heng's hand was still cold, and it was enveloped in his palm.

Zhou Heng tried to pull his hand back, but Xiao Jue wouldn't let go.

"Xiao Jue—"

"You taught me so many things," Xiao Jue said softly. "But you never taught me anything."

He paused for a moment, then gripped Zhou Heng's hand even tighter.

"If someone is kind to me, how should I repay them?"

Zhou Heng opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but couldn't utter a word. Xiao Jue lowered his head, looking at their clasped hands. A little bit of moisture still clung to his eyelashes, glistening slightly in the morning light.

Zhou Heng suddenly remembered what he looked like when he first met him.

He reached out and placed his hand on Xiao Jue's head. His hair was a little messy; he had sweated the night before, and the strands were stuck together. He gently stroked the messy hair, smoothing it out.

"You don't need to pay it back," he said.

Xiao Jue raised his head and looked at him.

Zhou Heng's lips curved slightly.

"No need to pay it back," he said again.

Xiao Jue looked at him, his eyes seeming to surge like ocean waves. Wave after wave surged up, reached the shore, and then receded.

The light outside the cave grew brighter and brighter, shining in and falling on the two of them, coating them with a thin layer of gold.