Chapter Six: The Cave Camp

The woman in green forced herself up. When she saw the black-clad fighter lying dead on the ground, a wave of relief washed over her. At last, unable to hold on any longer, she collapsed and lost consciousness as well.

Ye Mo hesitated. Should he just take the Crimson Blood Vine and leave at once? After all, he didn’t know these two fighters—one dead, one unconscious. Their fates had nothing to do with him; there was no need to involve himself in a conflict between martial artists.

But the woman lay unconscious and clearly gravely wounded. If no one helped her, the slightest threat—a venomous snake slithering from the undergrowth—would be enough to end her life. Could he really just watch a person die right before his eyes?

Ye Mo sighed inwardly.

Though he’d trained in martial arts for ten years, apart from catching fish and shrimp in the river, he’d never fought another martial artist.

He wasn’t worried that saving this woman would bring him danger. In her condition, she likely couldn’t even lift a sword. If she didn’t receive prompt treatment, she might not survive a single night in these woods.

With that thought, he leapt down from the thick branches above.

With his mid-level martial arts strength, the several-zhang drop meant nothing to him, especially with so many dead branches, leaves, and soft earth to cushion the landing.

Before tending to the woman, he had something else to do: bury the corpse of the man in black.

He strode over to the body and reached out to feel for breath.

“As expected, he’s gone.”

Ye Mo shook his head and withdrew his hand.

It was what he’d anticipated. The black-clad fighter had taken a sword through the throat—surviving that would’ve been a miracle.

Ye Mo took the three-inch Crimson Blood Vine from the man’s hand. “Let me at least bury you, so the beasts don’t gnaw your corpse to nothing. Consider this vine my fee for the trouble.”

He set to digging in the forest.

Soon, he had a shallow pit just big enough for the body. He dragged the man over, rolled him in, and covered him with earth, branches, and leaves.

“The other night, during that great storm, over a thousand martial artists threw themselves into the sea to survive. This man was lucky enough to drift ashore, only to die today fighting over a Crimson Blood Vine. Truly, his luck ran out.”

Ye Mo sighed softly, finished burying the man, and turned to the woman in green.

A beautiful face came into view. She was shapely and well-proportioned—generous curves, long legs, and a slender waist, as striking as any beauty. Now, battered and unconscious, her chest heaved with labored breaths, lending her a delicate vulnerability.

Ye Mo paused, momentarily stunned.

He was just a commoner from the royal city of Wuguo, who’d spent his life running errands, working odd jobs, and practicing martial arts—he’d rarely interacted with women, let alone such a striking one.

He glanced around, uneasy. There was no telling when a wild beast might emerge from the jungle.

But the injured woman needed help, and he had to find somewhere safe.

“The beach is out of the question—who knows if that young demon crab is still lurking there.”

“The forest isn’t safe either, with no terrain to defend. Venomous snakes and wild beasts could attack at any moment.”

Ye Mo pondered a moment.

He remembered that when he first arrived on the island, he’d seen a range of low hills nearby. Hills meant caves, and caves were much safer than the open forest. If there wasn’t a cave, he’d dig a shelter himself.

Resolving this, Ye Mo carefully lifted the unconscious woman into his arms. The sensation of her soft body made his face flush red, but thankfully, there was no one around to notice.

He hurriedly refocused on the path ahead, sprinting toward the hills, intent on finding a cave and setting the woman down as soon as possible.

At last, before the sun dipped below the sea, Ye Mo found a cave beneath a cliff in the hills.

The entrance was several zhang high and two zhang wide, and the darkness within seemed to stretch deep.

Ye Mo did not rush in. It was pitch-black inside; there was no telling what dangers lurked within.

He laid the woman down at the cave entrance, then gathered dry moss, withered leaves, and large dead branches nearby to make a fire.

With yesterday’s experience, he was much quicker at starting a fire by friction this time. The moss caught, igniting the twigs and leaves.

Soon, a fierce bonfire blazed just inside the entrance, illuminating the cave.

Holding a burning branch for a torch, Ye Mo ventured in to inspect the cave.

It wasn’t very deep—perhaps ten zhang in all. The floor was spacious and flat, like a great stone chamber. Cracks in the rock walls dripped water, forming a small pool in the stone. The water then seeped away through the cracks, disappearing underground.

“There’s fresh water here—excellent! Not only do I have shelter, but the thing I lacked most is here, too.”

Ye Mo was delighted.

He didn’t dwell on it, but carried the green-clad woman to the back of the cave, laying her beside the bonfire and checking her injuries.

The wound was obvious; the black-clad man had landed a savage kick squarely on her left chest, knocking her out cold. How bad was it? Had her ribs been broken? He couldn’t tell.

Ye Mo hesitated, unsure of himself.

He knew her injuries were serious, but treating them through clothing would be useless.

“I’m saving a life—I can’t worry about propriety.”

Ye Mo gently unfastened her green outer robe, revealing a layer of fine golden mail beneath. With some fumbling, he undid the mail, only to find a pink undergarment beneath.

Undoing that, two pale, delicate mounds appeared before his eyes, swaying ever so slightly.

Ye Mo’s face went as red as if he’d downed a flask of spirits. He quickly averted his gaze, not daring to look. He had never been so close to a young woman, let alone known such intimacy.

From the corner of his eye, he saw a large, dark bruise on her left chest—a clear blood clot. He couldn’t help but draw a sharp breath.

That kick had been brutal—enough to kill. The fact that she survived was likely thanks to the golden mail; otherwise, she would have perished alongside her opponent.

Ye Mo took a packet of medicinal herbs from his bundle, mixed it with water from the cave until it formed a green paste, and gently spread it over the bruised area to prevent the injury from worsening.

“Don’t look… This herbal paste feels quite soft and slick…”

Ye Mo muttered under his breath.

When the treatment was done, he quickly redressed her, securing her undergarment, golden mail, and robe.

The woman groaned in pain but remained unconscious.

The medicine was applied; whether she recovered was now up to fate.

Ye Mo looked at the single remaining packet of healing herbs in his bundle and winced.

Before setting out to sea, he’d sold off all his family’s property for a hundred taels of silver, spent fifty on a ticket for a merchant ship, and forty-some on a fine sword. The few taels left, he’d used to buy these two packets of healing herbs, just in case.

The herbs stopped bleeding, reduced bruising, and promoted circulation. They couldn’t be used for body-tempering—they were far too expensive for that. And now, half his supply had gone to this woman.

He crushed the last packet into paste and applied it to his own wounds.

Earlier, the young demon crab had struck him with a “water arrow,” leaving internal injuries that still hadn’t healed. He couldn’t risk letting them fester.

“When she wakes, I’ll have to discuss the matter of compensation! I saved her life. That Crimson Blood Vine she has—she should give me at least half. No, more than half!”

Ye Mo’s gaze fell on the vine in her hand, calculating how much would make things even.

It wasn’t stinginess. For a common martial artist from the capital, every coin had to be stretched. The price of two packets of these herbs equaled months of hard labor at an inn.

Most importantly, he’d only brought two packets. Once used, they were gone.

On this remote island, healing medicine was a rare treasure.

How could he not feel the loss?

Still, the woman had a seventh-grade Crimson Blood Vine—he could claim that as compensation.

With that thought, Ye Mo felt a little better. Otherwise, giving away a packet of healing herbs for nothing would have been too much to bear.