Night on the Savannah

The moonlight cast a silvery glow over their entangled figures—her on top, him beneath. Huo Xuan narrowed his eyes, studying the woman above him, wondering what had driven this proud beauty to such abandon. But his thoughts scattered when her nimble fingers unbuckled his belt.

The oversized military jacket became their makeshift bed. Shangguan Meixue, now fully bare, was a vision of temptation—her snow-white skin, the sinuous curve of her waist, every movement deliberate.

She was fervent, taking the lead with a hunger that quickly eroded Huo Xuan's restraint.

His hands claimed her breasts, molding them greedily, relishing their perfect weight. Below, his hardened length plunged into her wet heat, igniting a primal rhythm.

Moans spilled from her lips, her head tossing back to expose the elegant column of her throat. Her full breasts bounced with each thrust, their peaks taut in the cool night air.

Soon, Huo Xuan flipped her beneath him. His pace turned relentless, driving her to the edge again and again until she lay spent, limbs limp as cotton.

Marked by bites and scratches across his neck, back, and arms—testaments to her frenzy—he finally stilled.

Nearby, the lion cub blinked drowsily, roused by the commotion. It watched in innocent confusion, mistaking passion for violence.

By dawn, quiet settled over them. Shangguan Meixue curled against Huo Xuan's chest like a contented cat, her flushed skin cooling into satiation.

He studied her face for a long moment before sighing. "My reputation's ruined because of you."

She pinched his arm. "Don't pretend you didn't enjoy it."

A wry smile. "Still… why?"

"No why." She smoothed her hair, unashamed. "I'm thirty-one. Raised under my parents' strict rules—never allowed to want what I wanted."

Her voice hardened. "Five years ago, they forced me into a 'relationship' with a man I despised. Not love—just shared beds and empty promises. 'You'll grow to care,' they said."

"Then fate intervened. His family collapsed overnight. The engagement dissolved. He was exiled to the provinces, while I joined Zhonghua Investment Group."

Her tone turned icy. "So what we did? Mutual release. Don't read into it."

Huo Xuan scoffed. "You think I'd chase you? Aside from being a damn good fuck, you're useless to me."

Unfazed, she laughed—then suddenly clung to him, sinking her teeth into his neck hard enough to leave a lasting mark.

The next morning, Shangguan Meixue still hadn't risen by the time Huo Xuan prepared breakfast. Exhaustion weighed her down—every muscle ached, her body more spent than after their desperate flight. Between her thighs throbbed a persistent soreness, a testament to last night's relentless vigor.

Though pity flickered in Huo Xuan's chest, her words from the previous evening kept his expression frosty.

After eating, they pressed onward. A hundred kilometers later, the river led them to a mountain's base, where an African village sprawled across the slopes—hundreds of round thatched huts dotting the hillside.

A group of tribesmen clad in grass skirts and armed with spears and bows rushed toward them. Their faces and bodies were adorned with intricate white tribal markings, giving them an otherworldly appearance.

Their eyes locked onto the lion cub perched on Huo Xuan's shoulder, widening in shock. A hulking black man barked a series of guttural phrases that left Huo Xuan baffled.

Shangguan Meixue, however, translated: "They're asking where you found the cub."

Huo Xuan raised an eyebrow. "You understand them?"

"I'm the investment officer here," she said flatly. "Of course I speak the local dialects."

"Tell them the truth," he instructed.

When she relayed their encounter with the lions, the tribesmen erupted in disbelief. The large man jabbered excitedly, his tone shifting to awe.

Shangguan Meixue's lips twitched. "He says no one tames a male lion on the savannah—unless they're a god."

Recognizing the tribe's volatile nature, Huo Xuan knew clarity was crucial. He studied the leader, then muttered to Shangguan Meixue, "Tell him he has a mole on his buttocks, the size of a fingernail."

She shot him a glare but translated.

The leader froze. He yanked forward a shorter tribesman, demanding something.

Shangguan Meixue frowned. "Now he wants you to identify this man's moles—how many, where." She eyed Huo Xuan suspiciously. "How did you know?"

"Lucky guess," he deadpanned, earning another eye-roll.

"Three moles," Huo Xuan declared. "One under the armpit, one on the inner thigh, and one beneath his hairline."

The translated words sent the short man into a frenzy. The entire tribe erupted in murmurs before their leader suddenly dropped to his knees, chanting a single reverent syllable.

Shangguan Meixue blinked. "They're declaring you a savior deity. They beg for your protection."

Huo Xuan stifled a laugh. A few X-ray vision tricks, and suddenly I'm divine.

Then the short tribesman abruptly sprinted away, returning ten minutes later with an elderly woman slumped on his back—frail, perhaps in her sixties.

As he babbled urgently, Shangguan Meixue paled. "His mother's dying. They're begging their 'god' to heal her."

She doubted Huo Xuan could help. Combat prowess didn't equate to medical skill.

Yet Huo Xuan merely winked. "Easy. Let me see."

After examining the woman, his stomach lurched. Her liver and lungs teemed with tiny white parasites—writhing, breeding, hollowing her from within. Even he recoiled at the sight.

An unknown parasitic strain.

Pondering briefly, he turned to Shangguan Meixue. "Have them bring ice. As much as they can."