Chapter 4: Water as Oath, Aili

Cold silence hardened in the wind of the wasteland. Lin Mo stared through the gap at the sharp, hawk-like eyes perched atop the ruins. Sweat mixed with blood trickled from his temple, dripping onto the dusty floor of the carriage with a faint “plop.” Every second stretched, thick with unseen danger.

He felt the scrutiny in her gaze—cold, precise, devoid of any emotion—as if weighing the value of a commodity. It chilled him more than the pure killing lust of a wolf pack. The first rule of wasteland survival: trust is a luxury, often paid for with death.

He gripped the rusted knife in his hand, though he knew it might be meaningless against her. He had to break the stalemate!

“I… I mean no harm!” Lin Mo spoke again, his voice hoarse from tension and thirst. “You saved me—I owe you my life! Is there… anything I can do?” He tried to express goodwill and willingness to trade—the fragile bond the manual mentioned might exist between strangers in the wasteland.

The figure atop the ruins finally moved. She slowly lowered the short crossbow in her hand—but did not holster it, keeping it hanging at her side, ready to fire at any moment. Then, like a nimble lynx, she slid soundlessly down from the several-meter-high ruins, landing as light as a feather, stirring not a speck of dust.

She began walking toward the carriage. Her steps were slow but unnervingly steady, radiating the alertness and calm of a feline predator. The tattered hem of her cloak brushed the charred earth, revealing grimy leather boots and the defined contours of her legs beneath tight pants.

As the distance closed, Lin Mo could see more clearly. Along the edge of her hood, a few strands of uncontained golden short hair escaped, stark against the dim sky. A cloth covered her face, leaving only her eyes visible—but deep within those eyes, beyond coldness, lay an indescribable weariness… and a profound, bone-deep vigilance.

She stopped about five meters from the carriage—a distance that allowed for either attack or retreat, a sign of her extensive survival experience. Her gaze swept over the chaotic battle marks outside, especially the wolf corpses, then settled on Lin Mo’s face through the gap, landing on his bandaged arm and chest, still oozing blood.

“Water.” A dry, rasping voice, like sandpaper scraping, emerged from beneath the cloth—short, direct, no wasted words.

Lin Mo froze. Water? She needed water?

He understood instantly. In the wasteland, clean water was more valuable than food—a hard currency! She saved him because she saw him climbing into the carriage with a water canteen! She was gambling—betting he had water… or a way to obtain clean water!

“I… I know how to get clean water!” Lin Mo said at once, his heart pounding. This was his only bargaining chip right now! He pointed to the metal canteen in his arms. “I have a water purifier! Just made it! Any dirty water, it filters!”

The woman’s gaze sharpened instantly, locking onto the canteen. “Prove it.” Her voice remained cold, but Lin Mo sensed a barely perceptible urgency beneath.

Prove it? Lin Mo glanced outside. The stench of wolf blood had drawn the pack—but also temporarily scared off other small predators. The area was relatively safe. He needed water to test the purifier… and he was parched, nearly delirious!

“I need to go out and find some dirty water… surface water will do!” Lin Mo ventured. “Can you… guarantee my safety?” He gestured outside—clearly implying the wolf pack might still be nearby.

The cloaked woman fell silent for a moment, tilting her head slightly, as if listening. After several seconds, she nodded. The short crossbow lifted slightly, pointing toward several directions outside, like the most faithful sentinel. “Fast.” She uttered only one word.

Lin Mo took a deep breath and carefully moved the topmost metal plate blocking the entrance, struggling to crawl out through the gap. Exposed again to the open ground, he instinctively hunched his shoulders. He dared not look at the cloaked woman, fearing misunderstanding, his eyes quickly scanning the surroundings for any water puddles.

Soon, he spotted a shallow mud pool in a low depression. The surface was murky, floating with oil slicks and rotting debris, emitting a nauseating stench. Typical radiation-contaminated water!

Lin Mo forced down his revulsion, wrapped his hand in rags, carefully avoiding the obvious floating filth, and scooped half a canteen of murky wastewater. The canteen felt heavy and cold in his grip.

He clutched the canteen, casting a wary glance at the cloaked woman. She remained where she stood, the short crossbow steadily aimed outward, as if the canteen of dirty water interested her far more than he did.

Back inside the relatively “safe” carriage, Lin Mo immediately began operating. He inserted the intake tube into the wastewater canteen, directing the outlet toward another salvaged, broken bowl. His heart pounded with tension and anticipation. This crude device was his key to survival—and his bargaining chip right now!

He held his breath and slowly poured the wastewater. The murky liquid flowed through the plastic tube, into the filter layer packed with activated charcoal and rags… Time stretched. One second… two seconds…

Finally, one drop… then two… clear, transparent water beads slowly dripped from the outlet, falling into the broken bowl below. The drops were pure as crystal, refracting a faint yet hopeful glow in the dim carriage.

Success! The basic water purifier actually worked!

Lin Mo nearly cried out in triumph! He forced himself to stay calm and kept pouring. When a small portion of clear water pooled at the bottom of the bowl, its purity stood sacred and precious against the surrounding filth.

He lifted the bowl and carefully passed it out through the gap, his hand trembling with excitement. “Here… clean water.”

The cloaked woman’s pupils contracted sharply the moment her gaze touched the bowl of clear water! Even through the cloth, Lin Mo felt her breath quicken. She did not reach for it immediately. Instead, she used the tip of her crossbow to cautiously approach the bowl’s rim, as if verifying something. After several seconds, she swiftly extended her hand, snatching the bowl in a blur.

She stepped back several paces, turned her back to Lin Mo, lifted a corner of her face covering, revealing a sharp jawline and cracked lips. She brought the bowl to her lips—not gulping, but sipping with extreme restraint, each swallow clearly visible as her Adam’s apple moved, as if savoring nectar. The bowl emptied quickly.

She set the bowl down and pulled the face covering back into place. When she turned to face him again, Lin Mo noticed that though her gaze remained cold and sharp, the underlying agitation caused by thirst had lessened.

“Aili.” She spoke suddenly, her voice still hoarse, but with fewer sharp edges of suspicion. “My name.”

Aili! Lin Mo’s heart stirred—finally, the first female protagonist’s name appeared! He hurried to reply, “Lin Mo! Thank you for the water, Lin Mo.”

Aili did not acknowledge his thanks. Her gaze returned to the canteen and purifier in his arms. “Trade.” She spoke tersely. “I provide protection. You provide purified water. Until… we find a more stable water source or safe point. Food is your responsibility.”

It was a proposal for alliance! Though harsh, in this perilous wasteland, a powerful, experienced companion was invaluable—especially one who had demonstrated such combat skill and vigilance.

“Deal!” Lin Mo nodded without hesitation. This was his best option now. “But… I need time to recover. My wounds…” He pointed to his bleeding bandages.

Aili’s gaze swept over his wounds, expressionless. “Clean them. Infection, death.” She spoke coldly, then lifted her crossbow again, leaned back against a ruin, and faced outward, slipping into alert posture. Clearly, she accepted this temporary shelter.

The immediate crisis passed. The taut nerves relaxed, and pain from his wounds, along with exhaustion, washed over Lin Mo like a tide. He leaned against the carriage wall, watching Aili’s silent, vigilant back outside, then looked down at the purifier in his arms—capable of producing life-giving water. His emotions churned. His first ally in the wasteland had been forged in the most practical way. But how long could this fragile alliance last?

He pulled out the wolf meat he had cut earlier, staring at the dark red, coarse-textured chunks, then at the residual wastewater in the purifier. A thought suddenly surfaced: Could this purifier filter radiation toxins out of the meat? If it could…