Awkwardness hung thicker than sulfur fog.
"Your robes?" Bai Heran hissed.
Jun Mulin jerked his chin toward the opposite shore. "You swam the wrong way."
Footsteps crunched through snow-laden pines—closer now. "Endure the cold," she urged. "Escape first! I've seen all there is to see anyway."
"Sudden necessity versus deliberate exhibition—are they one and the same?" His voice dripped frost. "Would you have me parade naked before assassins?"
"Pride or pulse?" She gripped his arm. "I'll speak of this to none—I don't even know your name!"
"Still—no." He vanished beneath the water. "Handle the twenty. I'll fetch my robes."
"Craven!" Bai Heran spat. One against twenty? With these sparrow-boned arms? Yet as assassins emerged from treeline shadows—twenty black specters against snow—her body betrayed her resolve.
*
Blood-Mist Gambit**
She pricked five fingertips with a needle . Venomous Lineage blood —black as liquid nightshade—welled forth. With a flick of her wrist, droplets arced into sulfur steam, coalescing into a crimson fog.
The lead assassin charged into the mist—and crumpled mid-stride, skin bubbling like boiling pitch. Nineteen followed, falling like poisoned flies.
"My skills suffice?" She tossed her head toward the springs—then froze.
Jun Mulin stood shoreward, now clad in moonlight-white brocade , hair dripping diamonds of ice. Snowfields and silk merged into one glacial tapestry. "Gratitude," he murmured, frost crystallizing on his lashes.
*
Frozen Charity**
Bai Heran's soaked robes had frozen into armor plate. "Hard to recognize you clothed," she quipped through chattering teeth.
Without a word, he tore off his outer robe, fingers fumbling at her icy clasps.
"Seeking reciprocal groping?" She batted his hands away. "Petty!"
"Your gown is ice!" he snapped. "Mine has thick under-linen —no indecent exposure."
"Mine is hollowed ," she retorted. "Bare skin beneath. Your robe changes nothing."
His amethyst gaze darkened. A girl cast from cliffs, back studded with needles, wearing hollowed robes in winter... He turned his back. "Wear it. Dry fabric spares you lung fever."
For a heartbeat, her defiance wavered. Then she shrugged, icy sleeves crackling. "Save your chivalry. Go—before more killers come. I've no blood left to waste."
She turned to leave, but paused at the wood's edge. "One last boon: Point me toward Dongqin's capital."