Mu Qingyi’s hand was on hers instantly. Hu Baiyu leaned forward so fast his knee hit the stone board. Feng Yiren’s ears shot straight up and he cursed the needle like it had attacked her with intent.

Lin Huahua pulled her hand back and glared at all of them. "I am not made of paper."

"You are bleeding," Feng Yiren said, eyes fixed on the tiny red dot on her finger.

"It is one dot."

"It is blood."

"It is a dot."

Hu Baiyu looked genuinely distressed. He reached for her hand again, and this time Lin Huahua let him take it because his face looked too pitiful to refuse. He held her small finger carefully between his large, warm hands, looking at the tiny red prick with the seriousness of a healer examining a deadly wound.

Lin Huahua was just about to tell him he was exaggerating again when Hu Baiyu lowered his head.

Before she could pull back, his warm tongue lightly swept over the tiny red dot on her fingertip.

Lin Huahua froze completely.

Her little white rat ears shot straight up so fast they almost looked like two frightened leaves standing at attention, and her fluffy white tail stiffened behind her like it had been struck by lightning. The touch was only brief, softer than a breath yet warmer than the fire burning beside them, but it sent a strange, tingling heat racing straight up her arm and spreading across her entire body. Her cheeks burned as if someone had pushed her face directly into the flames, and her heart gave one hard, startled thump that made her feel dizzy.

Hu Baiyu did not seem to realize what he had done wrong at all. He simply continued holding her finger with both of his big, gentle hands, licking away the small bead of blood with slow, careful strokes of his warm tongue, then looked at the tiny wound again with deep, sincere concern, as if he had personally saved her from losing half her hand.

Lin Huahua’s mouth opened.

Then closed.

Then opened again.

Her fluffy white rat tail betrayed her completely by curling tightly around her own ankle, trying to hide on her behalf while her white rat ears slowly folded back against her head in pure embarrassment.

"You..." Her voice came out much softer and breathier than she expected, which only made her face burn hotter. "Why did you... lick it?"

Hu Baiyu looked up at her with those clear, innocent blue eyes.

He could not speak, but his expression was very obvious.

Because she was bleeding.

Because blood should be cleaned.

Because this was normal for him.

Because she was his female, so of course he would do it without thinking twice.

Lin Huahua understood every single silent reason from his face alone, and somehow that made her even more flustered. Her ears stayed folded back, her tail refused to uncurl, and a strange, warm shiver ran down her spine that had nothing to do with the air around them.

Mu Qingyi’s hand paused in midair while he was preparing the herbs to treat her wound.

His gentle face remained calm on the surface, but his warm brown eyes darkened just a fraction as they moved from Hu Baiyu’s mouth to Lin Huahua’s deeply flushed cheeks. The nurturing deer beastman had been the one carefully preparing medicine for her tiny injury, yet Hu Baiyu had moved faster, and the sight of the lion’s tongue gently cleaning her finger made something complicated and warm twist inside Mu Qingyi’s broad bare chest.

Feng Yiren stared for one full, silent breath.

Then his red fox ears flattened slightly.

"Baiyu," he said slowly, his voice still carrying that usual teasing smile, but his red eyes were clearly not smiling at all. "You are very quiet, but you are not honest at all."

Hu Baiyu looked at him calmly.

Feng Yiren pointed at Lin Huahua’s small hand, still held gently in the lion’s large palms. "You used worry as an excuse."

Hu Baiyu blinked once, then very calmly continued holding Lin Huahua’s finger, his thumbs stroking the back of her hand in slow, soothing circles as if nothing in the world could make him let go.

Feng Yiren almost laughed from pure frustration. "Look at him. He is not even denying it."

Lin Huahua quickly pulled her hand back, the cord beside her jumping with the sudden movement. "Enough," she said, her voice a little too high and a little too soft. "It was only one tiny dot of blood. One dot. Why are all of you acting like my finger went to war and came back with serious trauma?"

Mu Qingyi gently pushed the prepared herbs closer to her, his voice warm and steady even though his gaze lingered a second longer on her flushed face. "It still needs to be cleaned properly, Huahua."

Feng Yiren immediately leaned closer with that shameless fox grin. "I can clean it too."

Lin Huahua grabbed the bone needle and pointed it straight at him, her white rat ears twitching with warning. "Try it and I will sew your mouth shut."

Feng Yiren’s lips curved into a slow, dangerous smile, his red tail swishing once behind him. "That sounds strangely intimate, little rat."

Mu Qingyi’s calm expression cracked for half a second.

Hu Baiyu silently reached out and moved the needle farther away from Feng Yiren, as if he fully supported protecting Lin Huahua from both injuries and fox nonsense.

Lin Huahua’s face was still burning, and she hated that it refused to cool down. She lowered her head and pretended to focus on stitching again, but for the next several moments, every time her eyes accidentally fell on her finger, she remembered the warm, soft brush of Hu Baiyu’s tongue against her skin and immediately pulled her hand closer to her chest like it was something precious and embarrassing at the same time.

This was terrible.

She had only pricked her finger.

Why did it suddenly feel like she had done something far more intimate in front of the whole cave?