When Cassian opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was the inside of his tent. The second was the pounding headache that made him regret being alive.
He groaned softly, rubbing his temples. The last thing he remembered was the girl, that ridiculously pretty girl, catching him before everything went black.
He blinked a few times, letting his eyes adjust to the dim light leaking in through the tent flap. He was lying on his mat, his shirt half open, and… something heavy was resting beside him.
"What the hell…" he muttered weakly, pushing himself up.
A large bundle sat near his feet, covered with thick cloth. It looked… suspiciously fancy. Nothing in this damn place was fancy.
Frowning, he dragged it closer and unwrapped it.
His jaw dropped.
Inside was a beautifully roasted spirit beast, golden skin still glistening, the smell hitting him like a physical blow. His stomach immediately screamed at him, and he had to swallow hard just to keep from drooling all over it.
Even when he'd been a student, he'd never seen food this perfect. Spirit beast meat, rich with energy, cooked just right, was something only the inner disciples or instructors ever got near.
How the hell did she get this?
And more importantly… why did she give it to him?
For a moment, he just sat there staring, too confused to move. Then hunger made the decision for him.
He quickly dropped the bundle back on the mat, scrambled to the flap, and zipped his tent shut. He peeked outside to make sure no one was watching, no students, no cleaners, no one with a broom ready to steal his miracle.
Once he was sure the coast was clear, he turned around and noticed something else.
Beside his hay mat were two bottles.
He blinked. "What the…"
Two full bottles, sealed tight. Water? He rushed to them, picked one up carefully, and a small folded note fluttered down between them.
"Hmmm," he murmured, unfolding it.
The handwriting was neat, a little rushed but still easy to read:
"You passed out while we were talking. I tried waking you, but you wouldn't move. I waited a while, but I have training this morning, so I had to leave.
I didn't want to leave you hungry, so… enjoy the food."
At the bottom, in smaller letters, there was a little scribble:
P.S. Try not to faint again.
Cassian just sat there for a moment, staring at the note.
A slow smile spread across his face.
"She really sent the food," he whispered. "She actually did…"
He set the note aside carefully, then jumped on his mat like a child on his birthday. His fingers worked fast as he unwrapped the rest of the meat completely.
The smell alone was enough to make him dizzy. He tore off a quarter of it, then glanced around the tent. There was no way he was eating all of this in one go, not with how people around here sniffed out food like starving dogs.
He slipped the rest into the same hidden corner where he tossed broken tools and useless junk. Nobody would ever think to look there.
Satisfied, he sat cross-legged and held the piece of spirit meat in both hands. For a second, he just looked at its golden skin, a hint of crisp, a soft shine underneath. Then hunger took over.
The first bite hit like heaven.
The outside was perfectly crisp, the inside tender and juicy, every fiber melting against his tongue. There was this warmth that spread from his mouth down his chest, rich with the beast's natural energy. It wasn't just food, it was like swallowing sunlight.
The energy pulsed faintly through his veins, making his tired body tingle, his muscles hum.
He groaned. "Holy hell…"
It was the first real food he'd had in days, no, in weeks, and it didn't just fill his stomach. It soothed him, body and soul.
Before he realized it, there was nothing left in his hands but a bit of bone. He stared at it blankly. Then a tear slipped down his cheek.
"Shit," he whispered, wiping his face quickly. "That… that touched my soul."
He laughed softly at himself, shaking his head. Who cries over food? Apparently, he did.
He reached for the bottles next, pulling one open. The smell hit him immediately, sharp, sweet, a little spicy.
He frowned. "That's not water."
He brought it to his lips and took a sip.
The taste exploded on his tongue — smooth, burning, alive.
His eyes widened. "Holy fuck…"
He stared at the bottle, disbelief plastered across his face.
"Spirit wine! She gave me spirit wine!"
He almost laughed, but it came out half as a sob. Spirit wine was the kind of thing students bragged about stealing, not something anyone gave to a cleaner.
He tilted his head back and drank again, slower this time, feeling the warm energy spread through him, calming his mind, easing the ache in his stomach, even dulling the exhaustion in his limbs.
For the first time in a long time, Cassian didn't feel like trash.
He lay back on his mat, staring up at the roof of his tent, the bottle resting on his stomach.
"Maybe heaven doesn't completely hate me after all," he muttered, chuckling softly.