Chapter Sixty-Two: Two People, Two Bears (First Update of the Day)

(This chapter makes up for the four thousand words owed from yesterday and the day before. There will be another chapter tonight.)

"Come over and warm yourself. This cave is truly damp; it’s not good for your wound to be exposed to the cold," Qin Cheng said, poking at the firewood with a branch to make the flames burn more vigorously. He turned to speak to Miss Kong.

Miss Kong glanced at the fire, then at Qin Cheng, inwardly finding his reasoning quite forced. The cave was damp, yes, but not to the point where her wound would freeze. She shook her head, "General Qin, there’s no need to trouble yourself. I can feel the warmth well enough from here."

Seeing her refusal, Qin Cheng didn’t insist. After tending to the fire for a while, he took up the half-section of bamboo he’d cut while gathering wood, sliced off a piece about a foot long with his dagger, brushed away the shavings, then walked to the small pool. At the pool’s downstream edge, he rinsed the bamboo, filled it with spring water, and drank deeply. Finding the water sweet enough, he refilled the bamboo and brought it to Miss Kong. "This spring water is quite refreshing. Please, drink as you wish and quench your thirst. For these next two days, we’ll have to rely on it to survive."

Outside, the night was pitch-black, but the cave glowed with firelight. The flickering flames cast shifting shadows across Miss Kong’s face. She looked up, accepted the bamboo tube, lowered her gaze, and seemed unwilling to meet Qin Cheng’s eyes. With a soft word of thanks, she turned away and shielded her face with her hand as she took a sip. Perhaps the water truly was sweet, or perhaps she was parched from many days in the mountains; she tipped her head back and drank several large gulps. When she set the bamboo down, her lips curled in a faint, satisfied smile. Looking back at Qin Cheng, she saw he had already returned to the pool, soaking a red scarf in the water—the same one he’d worn around his neck. With his back to her, Miss Kong’s right hand instinctively drifted toward the dagger at her waist. Her fingers brushed the hilt, but then withdrew. In the firelight, her eyes appeared dreamy and conflicted.

Qin Cheng wiped his face with the wet scarf, then said, "If you’d like to freshen up as well, give me your scarf and I’ll wet it for you."

Miss Kong hesitated only briefly before untying the brown cloth from her neck and handing it to him. Qin Cheng wetted it and returned it to her, then settled himself by the fire. His seemingly casual seat was directly between Miss Kong and the cave entrance. After prodding the firewood a few more times, he leaned against a stone and prepared to rest. "Miss, if you grow weary, do rest. If you need anything during the night, wake me. But do not venture outside the cave alone; the fire might attract wild beasts from the mountains. We must remain cautious."

With that, Qin Cheng closed his eyes. Soon, his breathing grew slow and steady, as if he were asleep.

Qin Cheng was at ease, but Miss Kong was not. Alone with a man in a mountain cave, with only the trees and unseen birds for company, she instinctively gripped her dagger and watched him for a long while. She could not relax enough to sleep. In these troubled times, who could guarantee that a man who appeared upright and respectable didn’t harbor darker intentions? Qin Cheng had tended to her with great care, but looked at from another angle, it might well be that he had ulterior motives. The flames flickering in her eyes mirrored her unsettled heart.

Moreover, Miss Kong couldn’t be sure whether Qin Cheng had seen through her true identity.

The fire crackled and popped. Even after Qin Cheng had slept for two hours, Miss Kong forced herself to remain alert, believing that caution was the parent of safety.

Outside, the moon peeked from behind the dark clouds, spilling silver light across the ground and into the cave mouth. By now, Miss Kong was certain Qin Cheng was deep asleep. Her hand crept once more toward her dagger, her eyes fixed on Qin Cheng’s back. Her breathing quickened, and she slowly drew the blade, the faint rasp of metal against the scabbard echoing her racing heartbeat. They were no more than five or six paces apart—close enough for her to be confident of a successful surprise attack. Yet as the dagger neared full extension, the conflict in her eyes reached its peak.

To kill, or not to kill?

Just then, Qin Cheng shifted, turning slightly, his face now angled toward her. As she saw his profile, her grip on the dagger slackened.

She exhaled heavily, glanced toward the cave entrance, then down at her injured calf, and finally at Qin Cheng. After a long hesitation, she slid the dagger back into its sheath.

As the blade clicked home, she felt a strange sense of relief, cast Qin Cheng a sidelong glance, gave a soft snort, then leaned against the stone and closed her eyes.

At that moment, the corner of Qin Cheng’s mouth—hidden from her view—curved upward ever so slightly, then returned to its usual calm.

So the night passed until dawn was near. Qin Cheng awoke to Miss Kong’s low cry. Opening his eyes, he first saw her, hand clamped over her mouth, eyes wide and fixed on the cave entrance. Following her gaze, he saw a hulking beast standing just outside. Though it was still dim, its shape was unmistakable—a black bear! The beast, noticing their movement, let out a low roar and made to charge into the cave.

Qin Cheng leapt up, dashed to the still-smoldering fire, seized two burning sticks, and hurled them at the bear.

The sticks struck its body, and the bear bellowed, retreating several steps. Qin Cheng drew his long blade and, seizing the moment as the bear turned away, rushed outside.

He’d heard tales of Liu Che besting a bear with a dagger; today, Qin Cheng would test his own strength. Besides, there was little choice—if the bear blocked the entrance or called others, they’d be doomed.

Miss Kong hadn’t expected Qin Cheng to be so decisive and bold, charging out with his blade. Alarmed, she wanted to help, but as soon as she moved, pain shot through her wounded leg, forcing her to grit her teeth. Watching Qin Cheng draw near the bear, her anxiety grew. If he were killed by a single swipe, their fate would be sealed. But her injury rendered her helpless; struggling, she realized that leaving the cave would only burden him. Though unwilling to sit idle, she knew it was wiser than getting in his way. So she dragged herself to the entrance, leaning against the stone wall, and watched anxiously as the man and beast fought.

Qin Cheng burst from the cave, blade flashing. The bear, still smarting from the burning sticks, barely had time to react. Qin Cheng’s blade swung down toward its head.

Bears are slower than tigers or wolves, but not sluggish in their reflexes. Unable to dodge, the beast swung a massive paw at Qin Cheng’s head. He heard the wind whistle past his ear, surprised by its ferocity. Forced to change his attack, he diverted the blade to slash at the bear’s arm.

The blade cut into flesh, hot blood spurted forth, but the bear’s hide was thick. In his haste, Qin Cheng couldn’t sever the limb, only gouge a bloody groove. Wounded, the bear’s attack was weakened, but it still struck Qin Cheng’s left arm.

A jolt ran through his arm, and his body was thrown aside. He barely managed to land on his feet.

Planting his legs, Qin Cheng sprang away just as the bear’s next swipe smashed into the spot he’d just vacated, flinging earth and stones. Taking advantage, he slashed again at the beast’s arm—this time with full force, cutting away a large chunk of flesh.

Roaring in pain, the bear’s eyes turned red. Qin Cheng’s two blows had wounded both its arms. Its hide was thick, but while attacking the chest was risky and less effective, injuring the limbs was easier, as the flesh there was thinner and more vulnerable.

With another successful strike, Qin Cheng dodged aside. The bear, enraged, swung its less-injured arm at him. Qin Cheng sneered inwardly—beasts would be beasts. With a powerful upward flick, his blade sliced clean through the bear’s wrist, severing the paw.

Blood spouted like a fountain; the bear screamed and retreated. Even such a dull creature now realized its foe was dangerous and tried to escape.

But Qin Cheng would not allow it. As the bear turned, he lunged, his long blade hacking at its hind leg. With a crisp crack, the limb was severed, and the beast crashed to the ground, unable to rise.

Still, that was not enough. Seeing the bear helpless, Qin Cheng leapt onto its side and swung his blade at its head, determined to decapitate it and end the threat for good. He knew that if its cries drew others, he would be in grave danger—so he showed no mercy.

In the bear’s eyes, the blade drew nearer and nearer. It howled again, and with its last remaining paw, swiped desperately at Qin Cheng.

He hadn’t expected the creature to still be capable of attack, but now there was no turning back. The strike was already committed. He brought the blade down on its head.

As the blade bit into bone, the bear’s paw struck him, albeit with diminished force. Still, in its death throes, the blow was powerful enough to send Qin Cheng flying nearly ten feet, crashing to the earth. His head rang; he nearly vomited blood but managed to swallow it down. Gritting his teeth, he prepared to rise.

Just as he was about to stand, he sensed something behind him. He was facing away from the cave entrance and his heart leapt with alarm.

"General Qin, beware!" a sharp cry came from behind.

Almost at the same instant, he leapt, hoping to evade whatever threatened him from the rear. But it was too late—a blow struck, sending him flying again.

Compared to the previous beast, this strike was weaker, but the compounded injuries took their toll. Blood burst from his lips as he hit the ground.

He rolled and sprang to his feet, finally seeing his attacker—a smaller black bear. So, he’d killed the adult, and now the cub had come for vengeance, drawn by its elder’s cries.

After two heavy blows, Qin Cheng was gravely injured and unsure if he had the strength to finish off this new foe. But he would fight on regardless. Just then, the cub shrieked and stiffened, motionless. To his surprise, a dagger tip protruded from its chest.

Not wasting the opportunity, Qin Cheng’s blade flashed, slicing through the bear’s neck. Blood gushed forth, and the head arced through the air.

By now, dawn had broken.

At the cave entrance, Miss Kong still held the pose of throwing her dagger.

Qin Cheng glanced at the fallen cub, then praised her, "Excellent blade work, and an excellent blade!"