Chapter 40: Xi Yi Cried

The cave before them appeared to be about a meter high from the outside, but due to the natural slope of the terrain, its interior was relatively short in length yet surprisingly spacious in cross-section. When they crawled inside, it was empty.

Sha Yi noticed that the cave was almost fully equipped with supplies, nearly all of which came in pairs—from large items like animal hides for sleeping and broad banana leaves for repelling mosquitoes, to smaller ones like wooden bowls for drinking water and various softened dried vines.

The only exceptions were a bone spear leaning against the cave wall and a bone knife resting on one of the polished hides. These were nearly identical to the ones Xi Yi used.

Xi Yi’s bone spear had snapped against the giant serpent, but his bone knife remained intact—she had not only seen it but also used it herself.

Sha Yi stole a glance at the bone knife at Xi Yi’s waist. Like the one on the hide, both were crafted from animal bones, sharpened to a fine edge, with a grip wrapped in thin vines for better handling.

In a dim corner of the cave, a pile of small animal hides lay stacked. Sha Yi’s sharp eyes caught sight of one that resembled the hide Xi Yi had once given her to wear as clothing. However, the poor lighting and the jumble of hides made it hard to confirm.

While she surveyed the cave, Xi Yi remained unusually silent. From the moment they entered, he had neither spoken nor moved. He stood motionless before one of the hides, his expression uncharacteristically sorrowful.

She didn’t understand why. When she approached to ask, he suddenly crouched down and gently ran his fingers over the hide.

Sha Yi noticed a small, blood-like stain where his hand rested on the grayish-yellow hide. Though dried, its color still stood out.

In that brief pause, she saw a transparent droplet fall from above, landing as a glistening bead before soaking into the hide, leaving a dark, unsettling mark.

Startled, she hurried over and cupped Xi Yi’s face in her hands.

His deep, beautiful brown eyes were indeed brimming with tears, one already spilling over.

Xi Yi was crying—silently.

Sha Yi felt utterly helpless. Before, it had always been her in tears, with him awkwardly holding her, unsure how to comfort her. Now, the roles were reversed. She had no idea why he was grieving, let alone how to console him.

He was a man, and she had never seen him show vulnerability—not even when severely wounded by the giant serpent. Yet now, he wept over a hide and a bloodstain. She couldn’t make sense of it.

Before she could think of how to comfort him, Xi Yi pulled her into a tight embrace. Sha Yi froze, stunned, until she felt the warmth of his tears against her chest. Slowly, she raised her hands and gently stroked his head, resting against her.

Suddenly, she remembered the time they encountered the giant serpent, when a corpse had been inside its belly. Xi Yi had acted just as strangely then, as if struck by some overwhelming despair, his emotions volatile and suffocating.

Though his grief now wasn’t identical, its essence was the same—a deep sorrow laced with hopelessness.

If the person in the serpent’s belly had been someone he knew, then what about this time?

A bold thought struck her—the owner of this hide was likely the same person from the serpent’s stomach. And Xi Yi’s connection to them must have been more than mere acquaintance. Perhaps…

This cave might have been where they once lived together. They might have even belonged to the same tribe. That would explain his overwhelming grief.

Before this, Xi Yi’s sorrow hadn’t been this intense. Perhaps he had clung to hope, unable to identify the remains in the serpent’s belly. But now, arriving at this cave and confirming his fears, that last shred of hope had shattered, leaving him devastated.

Sha Yi believed her reasoning was sound, though she couldn’t be certain. Seeing Xi Yi in pain pained her too. Unbeknownst to her, she might have already developed feelings for him. Yet even so, she had no idea how to comfort him.

The language barrier remained their greatest obstacle. With a silent sigh, she continued stroking his hair, offering what little solace she could.

Xi Yi’s grief didn’t last long. Perhaps his innate rationality took over, as he soon lifted his head from her embrace, wiped his eyes, and forced a weak smile before standing up.

Sha Yi, still kneeling, looked up at him. He bent down to help her rise, brushing a hand through her smooth hair in the process. Then she caught sight of the wound on his hand—the one she had bitten in desperation.

She wasn’t sure how hard she had bitten, but the bleeding had been severe. Now, the row of scabbed teeth marks was surrounded by a bruise, making her uneasy. Yet she had no words he would understand to express her regret.

Xi Yi seemed to sense her remorse. He touched her face, shook his head to reassure her it was fine, then guided her to sit on a nearby rock, signaling for her to wait.

Xi Yi worked quickly. The cave was neatly organized, with few items to gather, so he finished packing in no time.

Once outside, Sha Yi helped him load everything into the bathtub. Though the additional items weren’t many, they took up considerable space, leaving only a narrow area for one person.

This cave had been a detour for Xi Yi. Judging by their migration path, they would likely have to backtrack halfway along the tributary. Earlier, she had noticed a branching point leading deeper into the area, where the river widened slightly. Xi Yi was probably heading that way.

They would travel by water again, but this time, Xi Yi couldn’t fit in the bathtub—there was simply too much cargo. Moreover, overloading it risked capsizing.

His plan was to swim alongside, pushing the bathtub from behind.

Sha Yi worried for him and wanted to suggest alternatives, but Xi Yi pointed at the setting sun and shook his head, speaking rapidly in those same unfamiliar syllables from earlier. She guessed he was repeating himself, likely emphasizing time constraints.

With no way to argue, she reluctantly agreed.