The lake water was ice cold, instantly stealing all the warmth from Liu Miqing’s body. The bone-piercing chill surged over him as if it meant to freeze his very organs.
Liu Miqing panicked at once. He couldn’t swim; he could only struggle on instinct, wanting to cry for help, but he could only hear the first syllable leave his own mouth.
The once calm, gentle lake water had become the most terrifying weapon, flooding into his nose with a stinging pain, clamping down on his throat, cutting off everything except the agony.
He knew there were people by the lake. As long as someone, someone reached out a hand, he would grab it without hesitation.
He didn’t want to die yet.
His hands slapped great splashes across the water’s surface, but the people on the shore didn’t move at all. Liu Miqing’s strength drained away with his constant struggling, and with it faded that laughable, pitiful little hope in his heart. He even began to hallucinate, he saw the sky grow dark, saw what seemed to be a bright moon hanging in the night sky, saw someone by the lake reaching out a hand toward him.
But a hallucination was only a hallucination, and in the end it vanished along with his strength. Only the deepening fear pulled him down and down, until finally, together with despair, it sealed off his five senses, leaving nothing but numbness as an invisible death drew the life out of him.
Silence and soundless darkness enveloped him once again.
Just as Liu Miqing believed he had truly died, a breath suddenly choked into his lungs, setting off violent coughing. Overwhelming pain crashed into his organs again and again, reminding him that he was still among the living.
“Miqing? Miqing, are you all right?”
Hearing the anxious voice, Liu Miqing forced his eyes open and saw Bu Jingci, soaked from head to toe. He stared blankly at him for a while, and as his senses returned a little, he couldn’t feel Bu Jingci’s body temperature, but he could feel the strength of the hand gripping his shoulder. He couldn’t help showing a weak smile and murmured, “Drowned rat”
Bu Jingci froze, then laughed too, pulling him into his arms. “As long as you’re okay”
Liu Miqing turned his head to glance at Sheng Ruqiong. She stood where she was, watching, her eyes so cold it was as if a mere stone had just rolled into the lake and spoiled her enjoyment of the scenery.
With just that one glance, a fear suddenly rose in Liu Miqing, a fear of being threatened by death, the same kind he had carried out of the water. It planted itself in his heart, taking root and sprouting in an instant, spreading wildly, impossible to cut down.
He said nothing. He only reached out and wrapped his arms around Bu Jingci, clinging to him like a life-saving straw, his whole body trembling from the cold, and from fear.
Bu Jingci picked him up and carried him away. Where to, he had no idea. Even held in Bu Jingci’s arms, he still felt terribly cold, so cold he couldn’t feel his own hands and feet, his mind a blank. It wasn’t until someone began removing his clothes that he came back to himself, instinctively pressing down on that hand.
“Change out of your wet clothes first,” Bu Jingci said softly, as if coaxing him. “Otherwise you’ll catch a chill.”
Only then did Liu Miqing slowly turn his head to look around, realizing that at some point they had moved indoors. Yehuo stood waiting nearby with clothes in hand. Only then did he let go, allowing Bu Jingci to strip off his soaked garments and dress him in clean, dry ones.