The sky had grown darker by the minute, thick storm clouds swallowing what had once been a clear afternoon. A cold wind swept through the trees, carrying the sharp scent of rain, and Zi Han looked up just as the first droplets began to fall.
Her expression tightened.
"This is bad," she said, glancing at Ming Ye's back. Even through the gauze pads, she knew rainwater and dirt could seep into the wound. "We need to find cover. If your wound gets wet, it could get contaminated… and the bandage might loosen."
Before Ming Ye could object, she moved closer and slipped his arm over her shoulder.
"Lean on me."
His brows drew together. "You're injured too."
"And you're more injured than me, so don't argue."
Ming Ye studied her for a second, then let more of his weight rest against her, though he clearly tried not to burden her too much.
They began moving.
