Finally, when Wang Jin was nearly in despair, Qin Yao, her face smeared with blood, stood among the corpses on the ground and shouted up at him, "Jump down quickly!"

The twisted, bloody face in the glow of the fire should have been terrifying.

But at this moment, Wang Jin thought she looked like a fairy descending to earth, transcendent and indescribably beautiful!

The flames had already reached the second floor, smoke billowed thickly, and Wang Jin, bound hand and foot, found it extremely difficult to leap out of the fire circle. However, with no other option, he could only take the gamble.

He hopped back a step, then concentrated all his strength in his feet, took a deep breath, and sprang up, diving his head out of the window like a high diver, forming a graceful arc before plunging into the fiery sea.

The ubiquitous smoke enveloped him the instant he leapt, making Wang Jin feel as if the searing smoke was roasting him alive.

The various scorched smells filled him with despair, while the fiery tongues quickly flicked at him, and in the next moment, he found himself enveloped in a soft embrace.

The world spun as the scent of grass and earth offered a refreshing contrast, as if he had been transported from the blaze to another realm.

Qin Yao rolled three times with Wang Jin on the ground, too rushed to check if he lived or died, before hoisting him onto her shoulder and sprinting away.

Behind them, a great crash sounded; the entire station could no longer withstand the blistering flames and collapsed forward.

Roof tiles rained down, scattering everywhere. Qin Yao felt a sharp pain in her calf and glanced down to see a sharp tile embedded there.

Blood instantly welled up, and Qin Yao furrowed her brow in annoyance, bending down only after she’d set Wang Jin beside the safety of the carriage to pluck the tile from her leg and toss it aside.

Deftly, she pulled out the cloth gag from Wang Jin’s mouth and untied him.

Nearing suffocation, Wang Jin finally managed to breathe, immediately taking a deep breath of fresh air... and inadvertently causing a bout of choking.

"Cough, cough, cough!"

Wang Jin leaned against the wheel, hacking so hard it felt like his lungs might tear, before gradually calming down.

On his pitch-blackened face, two streaks of black tears flowed as his bloodshot eyes gratefully looked towards Qin Yao, "Thank you."

Qin Yao nodded but didn’t tend to her own wounds, laying down the Divine Arm Bow and handing him a canister of water, before picking up a large knife and marching back toward the burning station.

Encountering the crawling Death Warriors barely clinging to life, she added the final blow, the white blade sinking in, red withdrawing elegantly.

Only once she had confirmed there was no longer any threat did she haul the hundred-pound knife back to the carriage.

Old Huang, terrified of the fire, bolted back halfway through eating grass, and Qin Yao patted its head, "It’s alright, keep eating, eat plenty, tomorrow we have a long road ahead."

Old Huang nuzzled her palm, then turned to find more grass nearby.

Having cleared the nearby land, Qin Yao didn’t worry about the fire spreading.

Though the weather was hot and the blazing conflagration beside them made her sweat profusely, she decided to strip off her outer shirt, leaving only a thin inner garment.

Qin Yao sat down beside Wang Jin, rolling up her pant leg to examine the wound.

The tile had penetrated deeply, although the wound itself wasn’t large.

With limited resources and no sanitization supplies, Qin Yao could only use cool boiled water for a thorough rinse and then apply ointment, bandaging it with strips of cloth.

Throughout the process, Qin Yao made not a single sound, yet Wang Jin, refusing to glance her way, was racked by goosebumps just listening to the sound of her fingers washing blood and flesh.

"How’s your injury?" Wang Jin asked with concern.

Qin Yao: "Just a scratch, no big deal."

Once bandaged, she put down her pant leg and turned to Wang Jin, "Do you need any of your wounds treated?"

Wang Jin’s clothes were charred in patches black and white, making it impossible to tell where he was injured. But Qin Yao could smell blood, far heavier than her own.

Wang Jin nodded, wanting Qin Yao to hand over the supplies so he could handle it himself.

Since propriety between genders mattered!

Unexpectedly, Qin Yao, seeing him nod, offered him the water and ointment directly, reminiscent of her ferocious self-bandaging, causing Wang Jin to flinch sharply.

His sudden movement made the wound on his shoulder blade ache so intensely he gasped, cold sweat pouring down.

Qin Yao paused, setting the items beside him, and didn’t forget to mock him, "You really are such a rookie."

Wang Jin raised his head intending to glare at her, only to unexpectedly catch sight of the figure-hugging outline beneath her thin garment, causing him to rapidly retract his head and blush fiercely.

Luckily, his face was already sooty black, hiding the blush.

"How can you not wear proper clothes!" he exclaimed indignantly.

Qin Yao rolled her eyes, "Isn’t this clothing I’m wearing?"

Wang Jin didn’t want to argue with her, staunchly tolerating the discomfort to move behind the carriage, urging her, "Put on something proper."

Only then did he begin addressing his own wounds.

Besides the arm injuries he already had, there was a new one on his back, fortunately not deep, with minimal blood loss.

Other minor wounds were too numerous for Wang Jin to bother counting, bandaging what he could. When clean cloth strips ran out, he simply left the rest.

Such wounds wouldn’t be life-threatening; he’d find a proper clinic in the Prefecture for thorough treatment later.

Yet, Qin Yao’s ointment was quite effective; as soon as it was applied, a cooling sensation spread, significantly reducing the pain.

Qin Yao thought to herself that the ointment laced with smiling half-step madness did more than just lessen pain.

Wang Jin never handled pain stoically in the past, shouting if he felt any during treatment.

Yet today, after Qin Yao’s earlier provocation, he bit his tongue hard, suppressing even a whimper.

Qin Yao waited a long time, hearing nothing, and thought he might have fainted from blood loss, suddenly peeking over to check, nearly startling Wang Jin who wasn’t fully dressed.

"You’re awake, well, carry on."

Qin Yao swiftly assessed his physique, nonchalantly withdrawing her head.

True, a martial artist’s body and muscles were well-maintained, though his ample chest muscles were a touch excessive, tsk tsk, not her preference.

Wang Jin expressionlessly redressed swiftly, his face burning as he heard Qin Yao’s clicking of tongue and gritted his molars.

Unable to articulate how he felt, all he knew was that it was utterly unpleasant!

Qin Yao handed him two wheat cakes, which Wang Jin slowly nibbled on, endeavoring to retain his noble elegance.

Although the lingering scent of burnt meat from the burning inn kept wafting by... Wang Jin paused mid-bite, glancing towards the carriage to inquire, "Is the cargo unharmed?"

Qin Yao tapped the heavy wooden crate, letting him hear its solidity, "My work is reliable, solid."

"Once the flames are out, we’ll leave," Qin Yao pointed out the mat she’d laid on the grass, "You rest first, I’ll keep watch."

In the firelight, her unkempt hair appearing like a bird’s nest, silhouetted a steadfast stone statue, diligently guarding him.

Wang Jin felt a warm rush of gratitude; she truly was... an exemplary professional!