A bit later, Zhao Tian returned and saw gentle steam still curling from the stone bath he had created.
The air was warm with the scent of water and faint traces of blood that had washed away.
He landed softly on a nearby ledge, looking at the scene above.
Yan Zijin is sitting half-submerged in the water and she is cradling the now-clean woman in her arms, gently rinsing the last traces of grime from her long black hair.
The unconscious woman rested silently against Yan Zijin's chest, with a peaceful expression, though her body still bore faint traces of old scars despite the healing.
His eyes briefly swept over Yan Zijin's delicate collarbone, the subtle curve of her waist, and the way her ample chest rose and fell with each breath along with her red nipples.
He quickly averted his gaze.
Clearing his throat, he looked away toward the horizon, "The surroundings are safe for now. No threats nearby."
