"It's beautiful"

Qie Xieling leaned his head back while Luo Muchen crouched in the dark recesses of the damp cave, his breathing coming in short, shallow gasps. The cold, moist air clung to their skin, sending shivers down their spines.

They could hear the distant, muffled voices of the gunmen searching for them, their hearts pounding in their ears like a frenetic drumbeat.

Qie Xieling winced, his face contorted in pain as he pressed his trembling hand against the stab wound on his side. He was in so much pain that he thought Luo Muchen was being heavy-handed thus he told him he would do it by himself but it wasn't going so well.

Blood seeped through his fingers, the crimson liquid pooling on the damp earth beneath him. Luo Muchen's eyes flickered with worry as he moved closer, his hand hovering hesitantly over the injury.