Chapter 344 Out of Danger

Chapter 344: Out of Danger

Zhao Cheng slowly shook his head, his gaze fixed intently on Cui Ji's retreating figure.

He knew Cui Ji's temperament well—once he had made up his mind, no one could change it.

Moreover, the General's wife shared such a deep bond with the General that persuasion would be futile.

In that brief moment of stalemate, Cui Ji took a deep breath and plunged into the dark river!

"Splash—" Water splashed, and cold ripples spread outward in circles.

That silhouette was swiftly swallowed by the murky water, leaving only a dead silence on the shore.

Beneath the surface was utter darkness and bone-piercing cold; light was completely devoured here, making it impossible to see.

Cui Ji closed his eyes, focusing all his senses on other faculties, his movements growing more cautious in the dark.

He was like a piece of black jade sinking into water. Calm and unyielding, he searched through the silent blackness.

His body groped forward through the water, and time lost all meaning in the absolute darkness and stillness.

His mind raced, continuously adjusting his search path based on his memory of the river's course.

Diving upstream into an unknown underground river was several times more dangerous than swimming downstream.

If he were trapped or met with danger, it would cost not only his own life but also the morale and strength of the entire army.

Reason told him this was hardly the conduct befitting an army commander.

Yet a more powerful force overrode all such calculations.

An intuition that transcended reason screamed insistently in his subconscious: Cheng Ge was in danger.

The moment this thought arose, his blood seemed to freeze instantly, sending a dull, throbbing ache through his chest.

What duty of a great army commander, what rational weighing of pros and cons—

The armor that usually bound him shattered to dust in an instant before this near-destructive panic.

At this moment, he was no longer the calm and composed Cui Ji that others saw.

Stripped of all identity and responsibility, he was just an ordinary man.

The mere thought of something happening to Cheng Ge made his heart feel like an invisible hand was squeezing it fiercely, wrenching it from his chest.

He surged forward with all his might; darkness and cold, upstream currents and the unknown—all dangers lost their power to intimidate him in that moment.

He only wanted to find the man as quickly as possible, his mind already racing through the possible conditions Cheng Ge might be in.

Just then, his calf brushed against something that wasn't water or rock.

Something soft, with a faint resistance—his body halted abruptly.

Without a moment's hesitation, Cui Ji reached out, his hand grabbing that cold, stiff limb with precision.

He followed the limb upward, touched the torso, and then forcefully pulled the lifeless body toward himself.

The icy temperature at his fingertips caused a barely perceptible pause in his movements.

Then, with one arm firmly locking around the man's waist, his legs surged with immense power, driving them forcefully upward.

Yet the body in his arms had already lost consciousness, heavy as lead, like the silt at the riverbed.

Worse still, the tattered armor and clothing on the man in his arms were caught by a powerful undercurrent, dragging them both relentlessly deeper.

Cui Ji's eardrums bulged, the muscles in his arms knotted, veins faintly protruding.

He pulled the man tighter, almost pressing the cold body into his own chest.

He kicked with all his strength, fighting the downward pull.

But the water's pull was stronger than he'd imagined—not only did they fail to rise, they sank even deeper.

Cui Ji's chest ached; he knew that if this continued, neither of them would make it out.

After a brief consideration, his free hand quickly felt around the man's waist, searching for the tangled leather belt and armor joints.

His fingertips touched the entanglement of cold metal and soaked leather; without hesitation, he used precise force to yank and snap it apart.

"Crack!" The instant the armor plate broke, a pent-up undercurrent was suddenly released, sweeping the jagged broken edge across his outstretched forearm!

A sharp pain struck. Warm liquid gushed from the torn flesh, mingling with the icy river water, spreading a fleeting warmth before the cold swallowed it.

A searing sting raced up his arm, the wound contracting repeatedly under the freezing water, the pain growing sharper by the second.

Cui Ji's arm around the man's waist tightened instantly, and as the resistance lessened with the armor falling away, he kicked hard with his legs and core, surging upward!

"Splash!" The two burst through the surface!

Cui Ji gasped in the frigid air, his chest heaving violently from lack of air and the pain tugging at his wound.

Blood continuously seeped from the gash on his arm, staining the surrounding water a faint red.

He could only use one arm and his body's strength to half-drag, half-carry Cheng Ge toward the shore.

His jaw was clenched tight, his face rigid, his complexion slightly pale.

Zhao Cheng and the others waiting on the shallow bank had been staring fixedly at the water, almost as if trying to see through it.

The moment they saw Cui Ji break the surface with Cheng Ge, everyone's heart clenched.

"General!" Zhao Cheng was the first to react, shouting hoarsely, and immediately waded into the icy shallows with several of his guards, stumbling toward them.

Cui Ji seemed not to hear Zhao Cheng's shouts at all; all his attention was on Cheng Ge.

Half-dragging, half-carrying, almost by instinct, he hauled Cheng Ge's heavy body onto the shore.

The moment his feet touched solid ground, he dropped to one knee and quickly laid Cheng Ge flat on the ground.

"General!" Zhao Cheng rushed to his side and immediately spotted the gruesome gaping wound on Cui Ji's left arm.

Cheng Ge's face was pale and blue-tinged, his eyes tightly shut, his lips a terrifying purple, with no sign of breathing.

But Cui Ji didn't even glance up; he simply used his uninjured right hand to quickly clear the mud and water from Cheng Ge's mouth and nose.

Then, placing one hand over the other on Cheng Ge's chest, he began rhythmic, forceful compressions.

“Cough... cough...” Under the steady compressions, Cheng Ge suddenly turned his head to the side, coughing up several mouthfuls of river water streaked with blood.

His body twitched involuntarily, but his eyes remained tightly shut, the bluish tint of his face not yet fading.

Seeing this, Zhao Cheng's heart leaped into his throat. He immediately crouched down, eager to help. "Let me do it, General!"

"Don't move!" Cui Ji's voice was unusually hoarse and low, strained by suppressed pain and an extreme tension.

His compressions didn't pause for even a moment, nor did he spare Zhao Cheng a glance.

His gaze was fixed on Cheng Ge's face as if welded there, his eyes holding a panic barely suppressed, on the verge of breaking loose.

Blood continued to seep from the wound on his arm with each compression.

With every compression, drops fell onto Cheng Ge's cold chest and the gravel on the shore, blooming into a stark patch of red.

Everyone around held their breath, leaving only the rhythmic sound of compressions and Cui Ji's increasingly ragged breathing.

He mechanically repeated the life-saving motion, as if the whole world had narrowed to the cold body under his palm and the faint, almost imperceptible pulse.

"Muyu..."

A whisper so faint it was almost drowned out by his panting slipped through his gritted teeth, tinged with the taste of blood.

Just then, Cheng Ge's body gave a violent shudder, coughing again as more water spilled from his mouth.

This time, his tightly closed eyelids fluttered violently, and his chest began to rise and fall faintly on its own.

Cui Ji's compressions stopped abruptly, his fingers immediately moving to Cheng Ge's neck.

The pulse that had been as thin as a thread, though still weak, was now clearer and steadier.

Cui Ji bent down and, with remarkable speed, scooped Cheng Ge up into his arms.

Cheng Ge was drenched through, cold droplets continuously dripping from the tips of his hair and the edges of his clothes, his body stiff and ice-cold to the touch.

"Clothes." Cui Ji addressed Zhao Cheng.

Zhao Cheng understood at once, quickly stripping off his own dry outer robe and handing it over with both hands.

Another guard nearby quickly shrugged off his own cloak too.

Cui Ji took Zhao Cheng's robe and wrapped Cheng Ge tightly in it, his fingers trembling slightly as he tied the sash.

Cheng Ge's hands were tucked into the fabric, and the fist that had been clenched so tight loosened a little, revealing the peachwood talisman he'd been gripping in his palm the whole time.

Cheng Ge's mind was foggy. He felt like his whole body had been crushed and then frozen in an ice cave.

Every bone ached, and his chest was painfully tight.

Darkness and suffocation clung to him like leeches, wrapping around his fading consciousness.

Just as he felt his last bit of strength drain away, about to sink into the endless dark—

A familiar voice, as if cutting through thick ice, stubbornly bored into his ears.

It was... Cui Ji's voice.

The tone held a tension and... panic he'd never heard before.

The realization was like an invisible thread, yanking hard on his sinking soul.

A faint but stubborn force fought the cold pull of death, dragging his mind back from the brink just a little.

His eyelids fluttered harder, and a faint, ragged wheeze escaped his throat.

Finally, he managed to pry them open just a crack. His vision was blurry, filled with swaying shapes and dim firelight.

The stifling, burning pain in his chest forced him into a violent coughing fit, each cough jarring his aching bones.

"Cough... cough..." He coughed until tears of pain pricked the corners of his eyes. When his blurry vision finally cleared, the first thing he saw was the hard line of Cui Ji's jaw.

"...Cui Ji." His voice was barely audible, as faint as a breath.

"Mm... I'm here." Cui Ji answered at once, his arms tightening, pulling the cold body in his hold even closer.

Cheng Ge was completely limp, his head lolling against Cui Ji's shoulder, his damp hair stuck to the skin of his neck.

He instinctively raised a weak hand, his fingers feebly clawing at Cui Ji's equally soaked clothes, as if trying to grab hold of something, but finally letting go.

"...Cui Ji," he called out again, his voice shaking uncontrollably, "I'm... a little cold..."

The vulnerability in that voice stabbed Cui Ji's heart like a thin needle, catching him off guard.

He took a deep breath and pulled the robe tighter around Cheng Ge.

Almost as if trying to press the whole man into his chest, he brushed his jaw gently against Cheng Ge's ice-cold forehead, his voice falling softly at his ear: "Hang in there. It'll be over soon."

Cheng Ge's coughing slowly died down, leaving only quick, shallow breaths.

He kept his eyes half-open, his vision still blurry, but he could clearly feel the strength of Cui Ji's arms and the warmth of another body seeping through the cold, wet clothes.

That warmth was like a faint spark, struggling to catch fire inside his frozen body.

He tried to move his fingers, and in response, weakly hooked them into the soaked cloth of Cui Ji's chest, the grip so light it was almost imperceptible.

"Cui Ji..." He called out again, as if to confirm.

"Mm." Cui Ji's reply was still short, but his arms around him were as steady as a rock, without the slightest give.

He could feel the cold and the fine trembling of Cheng Ge's body, and that icy feel made his chest clench.

Cheng Ge's mind ebbed and flowed like the tide, drifting between drowsiness and clarity.

He struggled to lift his heavy eyelids, his gaze drifting vaguely over the moving figures around him before settling back on Cui Ji's face.

Firelight flickered, throwing the hard lines of Cui Ji's jaw and the traces of water still on his face into sharp relief.

"I..." Cheng Ge opened his mouth, trying to say something, but found all his strength gone, unable to form even a single syllable.

In the end, he only let out a faint sigh and buried his head deeper into the crook of Cui Ji's shoulder.

Like a child seeking shelter, he repeated the word that had dispelled the endless cold: "Cold..."

Cui Ji said nothing more, just pulling the man deeper into his arms.

He stood up with Cheng Ge in his arms, steady on his feet, and gave a low order to Zhao Cheng and the others who had gathered around: "Head back to camp now. Have the army doctor on standby."

His voice had regained its usual calm, as if the man who'd lost control at the brink of life and death moments ago had been nothing but a ghost.

"Cheng Ge seemed to be reassured by the response, and his consciousness finally stopped fighting and sank into darkness.

Cheng Ge didn't know how long he'd been out before his awareness, like driftwood sinking into the deep sea, slowly floated back to the surface.

He pried his heavy eyelids open, and through the blur, he saw the familiar canvas of the military tent overhead, the coarse linen weave barely visible in the dim light.

His limbs felt like they'd been taken apart and put back together, stiff and aching, every move dragging with a bone-deep exhaustion he couldn't put into words.

What bugged him more was that something heavy seemed to be wrapped around him, warm but holding on with a grip that wouldn't let go.

He turned his head a little, and a sleeping face filled his vision—Cui Ji, right there.

Cheng Ge blinked, his long lashes brushing the pillow mat, his mind completely blank.

He... wasn't dead?

Memories came flooding back like a tide—the icy underground river, the piercing darkness, the searing pain of muscle cramps, and... the endless suffocation.

By all rights, he should've been fish food at the bottom of that river by now, or floated off to God knows where along that underground current.

So how the hell was he lying safe and sound in his own bed?

He tried hard to recall, and the fragmented memories finally landed on a pair of hands that had grabbed him dead-on in that pitch-black darkness, and a... hoarse shout that seemed to taste of blood.

It was Cui Ji who'd saved him.

Cheng Ge's eyes moved slightly, and his gaze once again fell on Cui Ji's face beside him.

The dark circles under his eyes were so deep they could rival the Third Prince of Xizhimen.

A layer of stubble had sprouted on his jaw, looking rough enough to scratch.

God only knows how many nights he'd pulled to end up looking like this.

But... gotta give credit where it's due, this guy's bone structure was insane—even looking this wrecked, he still pulled off a kind of quiet... hotness.

His throat was dry and tight, and it hit him that he was thirsty.

The tent was silent, with no one else besides the two of them.

Cheng Ge wasn't about to wake Cui Ji. He held his breath and began to move cautiously.

First, he carefully lifted Cui Ji's arm off his waist, then shifted the long leg that was pinning his down.

The process went smoothly enough; Cui Ji was sleeping deeply.

Cheng Ge let out a silent sigh of relief, propping himself up with his elbows and quietly sitting up.

He caught his breath and eyed the water jug and cup sitting by the bed.

Carefully, he rolled over, swinging one leg to climb over Cui Ji.

However, just as half his body was suspended in mid-air, hovering directly above Cui Ji's waist and abdomen—

The man beneath him, without any warning, opened his eyes.

Cheng Ge: "......"