The night descended quietly, the stars shimmering like scattered jewels across the velvet sky. Li Wei sat near the campfire, the flames casting a warm glow over his face. He was scribbling in a small notebook, his brow furrowed in concentration. Across from him, Feng Rui leaned against a tree, his sword resting at his side.
"What are you writing this time, scholar?" Feng Rui asked lazily, his voice tinged with curiosity.
Li Wei glanced up briefly before returning to his work. "Just notes… thoughts about the riddles in the book."
Feng Rui smirked. "Always working, aren't you? Do you ever take a break?"
"I could ask the same of you," Li Wei replied, his tone sharper than usual. "You're always alert, always ready to fight. Don't you ever relax?"
Feng Rui's smirk faltered, his expression growing distant. "Relaxation isn't exactly a luxury I can afford," he said quietly. "Not when danger could strike at any moment."
Li Wei put down his notebook, sensing the change in Feng Rui's mood. "You don't always have to be on guard," he said softly. "At least, not when we're here… together."
The words lingered in the air, heavier than either of them expected. Feng Rui's gaze met Li Wei's, and for a moment, the world around them seemed to fade away.
"You trust me that much?" Feng Rui asked, his voice low.
Li Wei hesitated, his fingers fidgeting with the edge of his notebook. "I do," he admitted, barely audible. "You've saved me more times than I can count. And… you've shown me that you're more than the mask you wear."
Feng Rui's lips twitched into a faint smile, but his eyes betrayed a flicker of something deeper—vulnerability, perhaps, or gratitude. "You're an odd one, Li Wei. Most people see me as trouble."
"Maybe I'm not like most people," Li Wei replied, his tone soft but firm.
The fire crackled between them, its warmth a stark contrast to the cool night air. Feng Rui leaned forward slightly, resting his forearms on his knees. "You know, you're starting to surprise me, scholar. I didn't think someone like you could survive out here, let alone keep up with me."
Li Wei smiled faintly. "Maybe you underestimate me."
"Maybe I do," Feng Rui admitted, his voice tinged with amusement. "But I've got to say… you're proving me wrong in ways I didn't expect."
Their conversation was interrupted by the faint sound of movement in the distance. Feng Rui was on his feet in an instant, his sword drawn, his eyes scanning the darkness.
Li Wei stood as well, clutching the book tightly. "What is it?"
"Could be nothing," Feng Rui murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "But stay close."
The rustling grew louder, and Feng Rui's grip on his sword tightened. Suddenly, a figure emerged from the shadows—a man dressed in dark, tattered robes, his face obscured by a hood.
"Hand over the book," the stranger demanded, his voice cold and menacing.
Feng Rui stepped in front of Li Wei, his posture protective. "I don't think so," he said, his tone light but deadly. "You'll have to get through me first."
The man laughed, a chilling sound that sent shivers down Li Wei's spine. "Very well," he said, drawing a curved blade from his side.
The tension crackled like lightning as Feng Rui moved into a fighting stance, his eyes gleaming with determination. Li Wei stepped back, his heart pounding, but he couldn't tear his eyes away from the scene unfolding before him.
As the firelight flickered, illuminating the combatants, Li Wei realized something. Feng Rui wasn't just fighting to protect the book or fulfill some unknown mission—he was fighting to protect *him*.
And in that moment, Li Wei made a silent vow: he would find a way to stand by Feng Rui's side, not as a burden, but as an equal.