By the time they finally returned to the stone cave house, Lin Huahua looked less like a proud rat princess and more like a soaked little rice ball that had been dragged through a river, wrapped in a hide cloth, and carried home under the combined terror of three angry beastmen.
Mu Qingyi carried her the whole way back and did not put her down even once, no matter how many times Lin Huahua quietly said that she could walk now.
His broad bare chest was warm against the hide wrapped around her, his strong arms held her steady beneath her knees and back, and every few steps he looked down at her face to make sure her lips were no longer pale and her breathing was normal.
His large antlers brushed against low leaves once or twice as they passed through the forest path, but he did not even care. His whole focus was on the small female in his arms, because to him, she had gone underwater once and that was already enough to make every river in the world look suspicious.
