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A faint candle flame flickered beside Xiao Yi's bed, stretching the silhouette of her propped-up figure.
Chen Xiaojun stood in the shadows three paces away, his fist pressed hard against the doorframe. The veins bulging on the back of his hand were clearly visible in the dim light.
"No."
He forced the word from his throat, his voice low and heavy.
Xiao Yi wore only a thin outer robe, her pale hands resting on the piled bedding.
Candlelight danced in her utterly still eyes, illuminating the strands of hair plastered to her temples by cold sweat, yet lending them not a trace of warmth.
She did not so much as stir an eyelid.
The stagnant air weighed so heavily that it was hard to breathe.
Xixi wrung her fingers uneasily, keeping her voice very soft. "Xiaojun... talk it out. Tomorrow... you have to have some sort of plan, don't you?"
Her gaze shifted cautiously between Chen Xiaojun's ashen face and Xiao Yi's wooden expression.
"Tomorrow," Chen Xiaojun said painfully, his Adam's apple bobbing hard as though he had swallowed a red-hot coal, "all of us... will rest for a day."
"Forfeit?!" Xixi sucked in a cold breath, her eyes widening.
Chen Xiaojun turned his head aside, avoiding both their gazes and leaving them only the rigid line of his jaw.
"Cough..."
His chest heaved. "One team, seven people. Right now... we can't even scrape together three or four who can fight."
At last, Xiao Yi's gaze stirred. Her starry eyes darkened as they slowly turned toward him.
There was no anger in that gaze, no hurt-only an icy pool whose depths could not be fathomed.
Meeting her eyes, Chen Xiaojun felt that cold stab viciously into