Chapter 10

The dawn of escape lay just ahead. Wen Lingyu and Qiu Lu embraced each other in excitement.

　　“This is amazing! Little Yu, we’re finally almost out! Finally escaping this cursed place!”

Wen Lingyu nodded repeatedly in excitement.

Even Xu Zirong began tapping his shoulders, forehead, and navel with his right hand, tracing an imperfect cross. This man, who usually insisted he was a materialist and the successor of socialism, Now he was thanking God for His protection.

Knowing we were so close to freedom, I felt an unprecedented sense of relief, my smile growing lighter. Noticing the youth still carrying his basket, I offered, “Would you like a ride? We’re not bad people. We just want to thank you.”

The youth shook his head. “No, thank you.”

　　I felt inexplicably disappointed. After a moment, I gathered my courage and asked, “We seem to have quite a connection. Could you tell me your name?”

“Connection. You keep using that word. It’s so strange…” The boy gave a half-smile. “My name is Shen Jianqing. ‘See’ as in ‘to see,’ ‘qing’ as in ‘Aqing.’”

　　“Qing from ‘Aqing’?”

Was “Aqing” a person’s name? Why would someone use someone else’s name to introduce themselves? Or was it the name of someone special to him?

“Is it the ‘Qing’ from ‘I see the green mountains as charming’?”

　　Shen Jianqing chuckled softly: “I don’t know. Never heard it. But you outsiders sure have a way with words. It’s quite interesting.”

A smile touched his lips, revealing a faint dimple.

“My name is Li Yuze.”

Shen Jianqing raised his thick, long eyebrows, seemingly neither surprised nor particularly interested in my name.

　　I turned and ran to the trunk, dug out the few souvenirs I’d bought, pulled out a bag of dried meat, and ran back to offer it to Shen Jianqing.

Shen Jianqing frowned, looked at the dried meat, then looked at me, showing no intention of accepting it.

I explained, “Consider it our thanks. You’ve been a huge help.”

　　He shook his head, refusing.

“Then consider it a token of friendship,” I said. “My welcome gift.”

Shen Jianqing’s eyes lit up this time. He reached out. His fingers brushed the back of my hand, cold enough to send a tingling sensation across my skin. Before I could react, he swiftly withdrew his hand while taking the jerky. 

　“Li Yuze, shall we go?” Qiu Lu reminded me from the side.

I nodded in response. Thinking about how this trip to the Miao village had ended with me learning the name of the Miao youth in that chance snapshot, I felt fate was truly wondrous.

“We’re leaving now. Goodbye,” I said. Shen Jianqing didn’t reply, merely stepping back to the roadside and watching me with a smile.

　　I climbed into the car. The small SUV drove slowly in the direction Shen Jianqing had pointed. I glanced in the rearview mirror. Shen Jianqing was still standing in the same spot, not even shifting his posture, watching us drive away without moving.

His figure grew smaller and smaller, turning into a tiny navy-blue speck. Then the car turned a corner, and he vanished from sight.

　　With the joy of having escaped, the mood inside the cabin lightened considerably. They started chatting again, bursting into cheerful laughter from time to time.

I had already decided: once back, I would sort through the photos from this shoot and store them safely. Though it had been a scare, thankfully no harm had come to us. But wasn’t it precisely these rollercoaster experiences that made life interesting?

　　I glanced down at the fuel gauge. We needed to hurry. Hopefully, we could get out before the car ran dry.

Lost in thought, I suddenly faced another shock!

A thunderous crash echoed, followed by the car shaking violently!

“Ah!”

　　Qiu Lu screamed in fright, instinctively clinging to Wen Lingyu.

I was startled too. The car ground to a halt under the immense impact, finally stalling.

The cabin tilted severely—I could feel it even before stepping out. A grim suspicion took root in my mind.

　　I pushed open the door and stepped out. The view made it starkly clear—sure enough, we had a flat tire.

What was bizarre was that both rear tires seemed to have conspired to blow out simultaneously.

The rear tires deflated completely, their once-round shapes now distorted into ugly, irregular forms. The cabin tilted further as a result.

　　Seriously… how could we get this unlucky?

Did we forget to consult the almanac before this trip? Did we offend some deity?!

I scratched my head in frustration and kicked a nearby tree trunk hard in irritation.

“Is it a flat tire?” Wen Lingyu got out and fell silent upon seeing the rear wheels.

　　Our joy had barely lasted before misfortune struck again. Too many ups and downs weren’t all that great after all—sometimes smooth sailing was its own kind of blessing.

Xu Zirong groaned in pain. “What do we do? This is a rental car. We blew out the tire. We’ll have to pay for it.”

　　“Worrying about compensation now? Let’s get out first and figure it out later,” I said.

Wen Lingyu agreed: “Right, walking is our only option now. Hopefully our destination isn’t too far—we can make it before dark. Once we reach town, we’ll find someone to tow the car.”

　　That was our only option.

Just in case we had to spend another night outdoors, we all packed ample supplies. I put on my windbreaker, stowed a day’s worth of food in my backpack along with a power bank and other essentials. After a moment’s thought, I added camping gear from the suitcase. Finally, my eyes fell on the camera, and I hesitated.

　　While the camera itself wasn’t heavy, given our situation, survival gear was clearly the priority. But I couldn’t bear to leave it in the car—it held so much important data.

I glanced sideways. Wen Lingyu was silently stuffing her vital field notes from the Miao village into her bag.

　　Her profile was focused and serious, not completely overwhelmed by the dire situation. Suddenly, I thought having someone like her as a research partner might not be so bad after all.

We finished packing. This time, even Qiu Lu shouldered a backpack and pulled a suitcase. We set off along the road.

　　At first, none of us spoke, driven by a stubborn determination to reach the town quickly. Our footsteps grew frantic, the only sounds echoing around us the increasingly heavy panting and the thud of our feet.

But the road beneath our feet seemed endless. After two hours of walking, it still stretched far into the distance.

　　It was the journey with no visible end that threatened to drive us mad.

“How much longer? My feet hurt so bad!” Qiu Lu grimaced, squinting as tears welled up in her eyes.

Wen Lingyu gasped for breath, her voice weak. “Let’s rest. I can’t go on. I’m so thirsty.”

　　As dusk approached and our destination remained unseen, it seemed we might truly be spending the night out in the wild.

I pulled out my phone. The battery was still half full, but there was still no signal.

“Alright.” I nodded. Rather than trudging on without sight of our goal, it was better to rest properly.

Fortunately, we had brought camping gear and quickly set up a simple tent.

　　The sky grew dim, the sunset fading behind the mountains as weary birds returned to their nests.

Xu Zirong and I gathered some dry branches from the roadside woods and lit a campfire in front of the tent. We hadn’t noticed it in the car, but the mosquitoes were terrifyingly numerous—one careless moment and they’d leave you covered in welts. Odd-looking insects kept crawling out onto the road, making the two girls scream in fright.

But our biggest problem wasn’t the insects—it was water.

Our supply had long since run out. If we remained trapped here without water, we wouldn’t last a week.

　　Night gradually descended, the campfire casting flickering light across our faces. Countless stars dotted the sky, embedded in the darkness like jewels—a sight breathtakingly beautiful. Yet I had no heart to appreciate this night view, unseen in the city.

Not a word was spoken. Only the occasional crackle of sparks, the hum of insects in the forest, and the distant chorus of frogs filled the air.

　　Wen Lingyu mechanically stirred the campfire, occasionally adding dry branches. Qiu Lu hugged her knees, staring blankly into the flames.

After a long while, Qiu Lu suddenly fixed her gaze on the fire, her eyes unblinking. She murmured, “Do you think we’ll ever get out of here?”

　My breath caught in my throat, and a wave of unease washed over me.

Wen Lingyu seemed to want to comfort her: “We… we…” But in the end, she couldn’t bring herself to say it.

　　A tear streamed straight down Qiu Lu’s cheek: “I don’t want to die here. My parents are waiting for me to come home. I… I’m still so young…”

After speaking, Qiu Lu choked back sobs and threw her arms around Wen Lingyu.

　　Xu Zirong slammed the empty can he’d finished onto the ground. “Damn it! That kid must have given us the wrong directions! He probably didn’t even know the way out himself and just pointed us in the wrong direction. Otherwise, how could we have walked all day without seeing a single soul, only to find ourselves in an increasingly desolate place?”

　　I said, “We’ve done nothing to him. Why would he want to sabotage us?”

“How should I know? Maybe he was just bored out of his mind!”

I didn’t want to dwell on it further. Turning back now would mean abandoning too much already invested, and there was no guarantee we could even find our way out.

　　“We’ve walked long enough today,” I said. “Let’s rest early. Stop dwelling on this. I’ll take the first watch. You two sleep.”

The three of them said nothing. Wen Lingyu and Qiu Lu crawled into the tent. Xu Zirong shook out his sleeping bag and slipped inside.

　　Sitting by the fire, I still felt cold. Girls could shed tears of frustration, panic, or seek comfort. Boys could vent anger or lose control.

But our entire team couldn’t sink into negativity—that would truly drag us into the abyss.

Yet I wasn’t an emotionless machine.

　　In the night, I pulled my jacket tighter and edged closer to the fire. The scorching heat washed over me, yet the chill seemed to seep from my very bones, making my teeth nearly chatter.

Every second dragged. Our phones were nearly dead, so we agreed to take turns turning them on to check the time and signal. I lit up the screen—not even ten o’clock.

The signal bars remained empty.