Water hammered against the mouth of the cave hard enough to shake the stone beneath them.

For several long moments after the plunge, neither moved.

Jinshi sat braced against the rock wall, soaked silk clinging heavily to his body, breath still uneven from the river. His fever had not entirely broken; he could feel the heat lingering stubbornly beneath his skin despite the freezing water. Beside him, the young servant he had dragged over the waterfall with him knelt forward first, practical as ever, wringing water from her sleeves with quick efficiency.

No trembling. No panic.

Only the calm assessment that if they remained drenched, they would both become ill.

Jinshi laughed softly beneath his breath.

“Of course that would be your first concern.”

She glanced toward him briefly before beginning to peel away her outer layers without hesitation.

Jinshi immediately looked at the cave ceiling.

“…You could at least pretend to possess embarrassment.”

The reply he received was matter-of-fact in tone, something about practicality and wet clothes.

The cave was narrow enough that he could hear every rustle of fabric. Wet silk sliding over skin. Cloth twisted tight between careful hands. Water dripping steadily onto stone.

It was torture.

Jinshi closed his eyes briefly, trying—and failing—not to imagine her sitting only a few feet away in little more than soaked underrobes.

How troublesome.

He removed his own outer garments with considerably more difficulty, made worse by the fact that fever and humiliation were a poor combination. Damp fabric clung stubbornly to his shoulders and chest. By the time he managed to wring the water from his robes, his hair hung loose and dripping across his face.

Beside him, she moved closer without warning.

Jinshi stiffened immediately.

Cool fingers pressed lightly against his throat to check his pulse.

His entire body betrayed him at once.

“…You really must stop doing that so casually.”

She tilted her head, clearly confused by his strained tone. To her, it was merely examination.

To Jinshi, unfortunately, it was a beautiful young woman touching him while both of them sat half-dressed in a cave.

He swallowed carefully.

“You have no awareness whatsoever, do you?”

Eventually, they redressed themselves in damp layers and ventured deeper into the cave, where the roar of the waterfall softened into a distant thunder. The passage narrowed before opening upward into a shaft of pale daylight far above them.

An opening.

Jinshi studied the height, then her, then sighed with quiet resignation.

“…Naturally, this will involve me carrying you.”

Some time later, he found himself standing beneath the opening with her balanced precariously on his shoulders, hands gripping his hair for stability while she stretched upward toward the ledge.

She motioned impatiently for him to stand taller.

“You are remarkably demanding for someone currently using me as scaffolding.”

He adjusted his footing carefully against the slick stone. Her legs pressed against his shoulders; her weight shifted every few seconds as she searched for purchase above.

Jinshi tried very hard not to think about any of it.

Then came the frog.

A small blur launched from the rocks directly onto her arm.

She startled violently.

Jinshi barely had time to lift his head before she lost balance entirely and toppled backward.

They crashed to the cave floor together.

The impact drove the air from his lungs. A split second later he became painfully aware of two things simultaneously:

First—she was sprawled flush atop him, breath warm against his throat.

Second—her hand had landed in an extraordinarily unfortunate place.

Jinshi froze outright as her fingers shifted experimentally against him, clearly confused.

Whatever she had initially mistaken for another frog was evidently failing the comparison rather badly.

Especially as it grew harder beneath her touch.

Jinshi shut his eyes.

“…I am begging you,” he said hoarsely, “to stop investigating.”