It had taken her six long hours to climb up the Heavenly Sect, but descending? Thanks to gravity, it had taken her only half an hour. She was still surprised. Even though her legs ached, the descent felt like a relief compared to the grueling climb. Well, that's enough thinking about that. With a deep breath, she started walking deeper into the forest. She wasn't going home, not yet. Now was not the time to find a place to stay.
Her destination was clear. She needed to return to the spot where the fight had happened. The broken tree in the distance caught her eye. She recognized it immediately—this was the place where she had woken up. Her gaze shifted to the leopard demon's body, still sprawled on the ground where it had been thrown. She circled it, inspecting the scene, and then her eyes fell on the bushes nearby.
She walked over, hidden from view, and settled herself in the shade of the foliage. She untied the rope from around her leg and released a small, worn box from her satchel. As she inspected her thigh, she winced. The skin there was bruised and red, a constant reminder of her earlier rash decision. Hah, that was really a bad idea, she thought, shaking her head. But what else could she have done at the time? There hadn't been any better option.
Divya, hidden in the bushes, leaned back slightly against the jagged bark of a small tree. The tree had been broken during the fight, but its bark still clung on stubbornly, providing a small sense of stability for her exhausted body. She took a deep breath, trying to steady her racing thoughts. Today, her body felt like a heavy weight, and her mind, clouded with confusion, only made everything harder.
She couldn't quite grasp what was happening, why this was happening. But there was one thing she was absolutely certain of: she did not die in her real world. She wasn't sick, nor had anything occurred in her life that would have led to her death—she knew her body, and she had no reason to believe it should suddenly fail her. Yet, here she was, in this strange world, thrown in without warning, without explanation.
Yesterday, she had been laughing with her friends, running through the streets without a care in the world. Today? She was in an unfamiliar place, and all of it seemed so unreal. There was no warning, no sign, nothing. If they were going to throw me into some strange world, she thought bitterly, at least give me some money or something to survive. But no, nothing. Her body itched with discomfort, her skin sore from the wounds and the constant ache that radiated from her mouth down to her feet. She was used to rough scrapes and bruises from fights back home, but this was different. This pain was far worse—she had never been beaten like this before.
As she grimaced, her eyes fell on her sleeve, and with a painful sigh, she pulled it up to reveal her arm. Her hand was swollen, blackened in spots, the aftermath of the brutal beating. It was a sickening sight, and the sight of it boiled her blood. Her fists clenched in frustration, the anger surging through her, as she tried to suppress the heat rising in her chest. This world—these people—were ruthless, heartless even. They didn't care about her. No medicine, no help. It was all just pain and confusion.
Her breath came out in ragged bursts. She was angry—so angry. She could feel her emotions boiling over.
Slowly, and perhaps due to the pain and exhaustion weighing heavily on her body, Divya's eyelids fluttered shut. She didn't consciously fall asleep, but the weight of everything—her fatigue, the physical toll—had dragged her into a deep slumber. Her body was too drained for dreams, too worn to even register anything beyond the dark void of unconsciousness.
But then, something roused her. A sound. Faint at first, but clear enough to make her senses snap back to attention. Footsteps. Soft, deliberate, approaching.
Divya's body reacted before her mind could catch up. It was like instinct, some primal awareness buried deep in her, honed over time. She shot upright in an instant, the pain in her body momentarily forgotten as adrenaline flooded her system. Her heart pounded in her chest, her breathing sharp, but her body was alert, every muscle taut, ready.
She didn't waste a moment. Cautiously, she peered out from the cover of the bushes, her eyes scanning the surroundings. There, through the dense underbrush, she spotted her target.
Ha! A smile tugged at the corner of her lips, grim and knowing. Her prey was here. Whoever—or whatever—had dared to step into her territory was now the focus of her sharp gaze. Divya's heart pounded in a new rhythm, the pulse of a hunter.
The prey is here!
Li Zhenyu knelt down, his fingers grazing the lifeless body of the leopard demon, his focus entirely on the task at hand. The knife he drew from his waist gleamed under the dim light, its sharp edge catching the flicker of moonlight as he carefully positioned it over the demon's chest. His eyes, gleaming with determination, bore into the creature, already imagining the triumph he'd feel once he removed the core—the final step in his mission for Xiaoyu.
Divya watched from the shadows, a smirk playing on her lips as she observed him. Of course, she thought with a silent chuckle. He couldn't resist. The fool.
From her knowledge of the novel, she knew exactly how this would play out.
Li Zhenyu was the type of sidekick who would go to any lengths for the heroine. His devotion to Xiaoyu was almost laughable—nothing could stop him from achieving his goal, not even common sense.