Tan Jinhe shifted his gaze back to the dead snake on the ground.
The snake was truly enormous, probably weighing more than ten jin, but unfortunately half of its body had already been reduced to a bloody mess.
A look of regret appeared on Tan Jinhe’s face.
He had failed to leave an intact corpse.
He reached out and rummaged through the relatively undamaged portion of the snake’s body, intending to take it back as an extra meal.
“Urgh…”
Song Ziyao finally could not hold it in anymore and began retching.
Tan Jinhe’s movements halted. Reluctantly glancing at the “meat” on the ground, he dug a pit and buried it.
Only then did Song Ziyao finally feel a little better. She lifted her eyes and looked at Tan Jinhe gratefully.
Because of the retching, physiological tears had gathered in her eyes, making her pair of dark, bright pupils appear even clearer and purer. The naturally upturned curve at the corners of her eyes carried an unconsciously alluring charm.
Tan Jinhe suddenly recalled the strange tales that elders had told him when he was a child.
In those stories, men would always become so enchanted by female demons that they lost all sense of direction, disregarding fame, family, and everyone else around them.
Tan Jinhe had never understood why.
The elders had said that female demons were born with hooks. They could hook a man’s soul and leave him utterly captivated.
Tan Jinhe had then asked what those hooks looked like.
The elders had refused to elaborate, only saying that he would naturally understand once he grew up.
At this moment, Tan Jinhe suddenly felt as though he understood what those hooks were.
Tan Jinhe’s sharp brows drew tighter and tighter together, and a panicked sense of helplessness rose within him.
He wanted to escape.
Song Ziyao had already regained her composure. Seeing that the Tan Jinhe whom she had finally managed to encounter by chance was about to leave, she naturally refused to let him go so easily.
“Don’t leave.”
“What is it?” Tan Jinhe’s voice carried an unmistakable tension.
What was it?
Song Ziyao’s mind went blank for several seconds before an idea suddenly occurred to her.
“Ow.”
Tan Jinhe turned around.
Song Ziyao looked at him pitifully. “I twisted my ankle just now.”
Tan Jinhe did not speak. His dark eyes moved downward.
Song Ziyao was not guilty in the slightest and even deliberately lifted her foot a little.
“If you don’t believe me, take a look.”
To her surprise, Tan Jinhe actually walked over.
“Is it serious?”
“…”
After walking over, Tan Jinhe seemed to suddenly remember something. He turned toward a pond not far away and washed the blood from his hands.
“Let me see.”
“…”
Song Ziyao silently thickened her own skin a little more. Leaning against a tree, she removed the shoe and sock from her right foot, revealing a delicate little foot as tender as a bamboo shoot.
“Go ahead and look.”
The very first thing that caught Tan Jinhe’s attention was that dazzling stretch of fair skin.
He steadied himself before crouching down to examine it.
Song Ziyao’s foot was not even as large as his hand. Its shape resembled a crescent moon. The flesh looked soft and boneless, and somehow… very cute.
There was not the slightest trace of sweat on that skin, nor the faintest callus. It was smooth and lustrous, like a freshly peeled egg.
Tan Jinhe even wondered whether she truly used these feet to walk around every day.
A foot like this ought to be held in one’s hands, tucked close against one’s chest…
Tan Jinhe gave a light cough and awkwardly shifted backward.
The young girl, however, remained completely fearless and leaned closer to him, speaking in a sweet, delicate voice as she swore: “It doesn’t look injured from the outside, but I really did twist it… It’s an internal injury!”
Perhaps because she was too eager to prove the existence of her internal injury, her other foot failed to maintain her balance. Song Ziyao’s body tilted backward.
A tree stood behind her, so she could not actually fall. Yet her little foot instinctively sought the nearest support.
When that little foot landed against his chin, Tan Jinhe immediately froze completely, as though an acupoint had been struck and immobilized him.
Drops of sweat rolled down from his forehead and flowed along the contours of his sharply defined face.
The weather was too hot.
Tan Jinhe only felt his mouth mechanically saying: “An internal injury needs a proper examination.”
He knew perfectly well that the foot was completely fine and showed no sign of being twisted.
He also knew perfectly well that he ought to expose her lie, yet he found himself unable to stop cooperating.
As though he had been born an actor, no matter how turbulent his emotions were inside, he could still disguise them beneath a serious expression.
His large hand cradled her little foot.
She could feel the heat radiating from his palm.
She looked at his expression.
After a long while, however, she lowered her eyes in disappointment.
It was still that same tense and fierce expression.
A sudden, inexplicable irritation rose within Song Ziyao, and she abruptly pulled her foot back.
“No need to look anymore. It’s not that serious.”
The little foot slipped away like a slippery loach. Tan Jinhe was momentarily stunned.
Yet it was precisely because it happened so unexpectedly that clarity instantly returned to him.
He had crossed a line.
Tan Jinhe stood up. His tall frame immediately towered far above Song Ziyao.
His lips parted slightly as he wanted to say: “I’m sorry.” Yet when his eyes met Song Ziyao’s clear eyes, shimmering with moisture, he stopped.
At this moment, Tan Jinhe felt both regretful and annoyed.
He wished he could turn back time and slap himself twice.
Just because someone looked at him a few more times, he had forgotten who he was!
Song Ziyao had no idea that so many thoughts were raging beneath Tan Jinhe’s expressionless face. She knew that her little bout of temper was completely unreasonable, so it came quickly and disappeared just as quickly.
She pretended to move her ankle around a little before saying: “Although it still hurts a bit, I can barely walk.”
Raising her hand to look at her watch, Song Ziyao frowned. “It’s already past two o’clock. I still haven’t gathered enough firewood.”
Looking up at Tan Jinhe, Song Ziyao smiled brightly.
“Can you help me? I’ll treat you to White Rabbit candy.”
Tan Jinhe: …White Rabbit candy again!