A single thread of sky stretched over the gorge, endless green rolling out to infinity.
In woods this deep, a single misstep could mean never getting out again.
As we walked, we shared more of what had happened in the Miao village. Wen Lingyu grew paler with every detail, and Qiulu and Xu Zirong held onto each other’s hands like they were afraid to be separated.
“When we get out… should we tell the world about the Shengmiao?” Wen Lingyu whispered.
“Of course we should!” Xu Zirong blurted out. “We discovered the Shengmiao—this is huge! It’s practically a contribution to the national census!”
Qiulu jumped up and smacked him on the forehead. “No wonder they want us dead. You’re out here talking about disrupting their peaceful life?”
“Ow!” Xu Zirong yelped, rubbing his head. He wasn’t mad—just confused. “Aze, then you choose. Should we talk, or not?”
“Me?” I froze when they suddenly dragged me into it. I’d never considered the question. “I… don’t know.”
Qiulu then looked at Wen Lingyu. “What about you? Would you talk?”
Wen Lingyu stayed silent for a long time, then shook her head. “I wouldn’t.”
“See?” Qiulu said triumphantly, hands on her hips.
“But why?” Xu Zirong demanded.
Wen Lingyu kept shaking her head, offering no explanation. Something in her troubled expression unsettled me. Had something happened to her—something we didn’t know?
We walked for hours. When the sun finally broke through the slit in the gorge and rested on that narrow strip of sky, it was already noon.
Our stomachs were empty. We had taken the dry biscuits from Shen Jianqing’s kitchen, and all we had to do was toast them over a fire to make them edible.
After that, we kept moving, gambling everything on the river trail. Whenever I thought of those black insects that could follow our tracks, I grew even more afraid to stop, pushing the others to keep going.
But by nightfall, we still hadn’t escaped the forest.
The only good news was the small natural cave we stumbled upon—enough shelter that we wouldn’t have to sleep exposed under the trees.
In times like this, even a tiny stroke of luck felt worth celebrating.
“This cave looks really deep,” Wen Lingyu murmured anxiously. “What if there are snakes… or bats?”
I pushed aside the weeds at the entrance. “The woods have snakes too. Don’t worry about it.”
She nodded, and we entered the cave. With practiced hands, we built a fire. Warm yellow flames lit up one corner of the hollow. The place was filthy—wild grass and moss everywhere, cobwebs hanging from the ceiling. A few pale cave-dwelling insects skittered away the moment we stepped inside, fleeing like their lives depended on it.
The cave was indeed deep. Somewhere farther in, we could faintly hear the sound of dripping water, echoing down some unknown stone passageway.
Night fell completely, and with it, the temperature dropped. I pulled my jacket tighter around me and edged closer to the fire for warmth.
None of us dared venture deeper. We weren’t curious about what lay inside. We just sat near the entrance, guarding the fire, and didn’t speak.
When a person finally stops moving, it becomes too easy for the mind to run wild. Qiulu leaned against Xu Zirong’s shoulder, eyes fixed on the flames. Suddenly she whispered, “Xu Zirong… I think I’ve already prepared myself.”
“For what?”
“To die here.” Qiulu said it like it was the most natural thing in the world, a faint smile on her face, as if she wasn’t talking about anything serious at all. “If I can die with you, it’s not that scary.”
Xu Zirong’s throat tightened. He wrapped her tightly in his arms. “Don’t be scared, Lulu.”
“Mm.” She buried her face in the crook of his neck, pressing into him.
It was a topic we had all been avoiding, yet it lingered behind every step we took.
Wen Lingyu and I exchanged a glance. In her eyes, I saw a quiet realization—
We were the outsiders here.
And I knew she could see the same thought reflected in mine.
I was debating whether to give the couple some space when Qiulu suddenly straightened up and laughed. “Let’s rest. If we keep going like this, we’ll be the ones isolating them!”
We arranged the night watch the same as before—
I took the first shift.
Once the other three lay down and drifted off, I stared into the fire, bored and restless.
With nothing else to do, I happened to notice the bulge in my inner shirt pocket beneath my jacket. I reached in and pulled it out.
It was the mosquito-repelling sachet Shen Jianqing had given me.
The sachet was a simple, plain white. Its fragrance was faint now—only noticeable if I brought it right to my nose.
We’d already left.
Why was I still carrying something of his?
I lifted my hand, ready to toss it into the fire.
But as my arm extended, I couldn’t do it.
I stared at the little sachet, and despite myself, Shen Jianqing’s face surfaced in my mind—the stubborn expression when he handed it to me, the depth in his eyes, the heavy emotion hidden there.
And his straight back as he walked away, the clean lines of his frame.
All the things I had ignored, never noticed, never cared about—
They all surged back at once.
What kind of person was he?
Should I trust what he’d shown me, or trust my own suspicions?
I’d kept everything between me and Shen Jianqing completely to myself, afraid of inviting unnecessary trouble. But now, with my confusion and doubt twisting together, there wasn’t a single person I could share it with.
Forget it. No point thinking about it anymore. If nothing unexpected happens, we’re never going to see each other again in this lifetime.
With that thought, I slowly pulled my hand back.
Fine. I’ll keep it.
Let it be a memory.
I tucked the sachet back into my pocket, settling it carefully in place.
“Mm— cough, cough…”
Just then, Xu Zirong—sleeping on my right—let out a muffled, incoherent groan. I assumed it was just sleep-talking, but when I turned my head, I froze.
His cheeks were bright red.
And on the other side, Qiulu looked exactly the same.
My eyes widened. I reached out and touched Xu Zirong’s forehead—
Burning.
I didn’t need to check Qiulu to know she was in the same state.
They were both burning with fever again.
“Xu Zirong! Xu Zirong!” I shook him. But it was like he’d sunk into some distant dream. Aside from a few weak moans, he couldn’t wake up.
“Qiulu, wake up!”
I patted her as well—same result.
Both of them were feverish and delirious.
Strange. They were perfectly fine during the day—how were they both suddenly burning up again?
My movements woke Wen Lingyu, who had always slept lightly. She blinked groggily. “What’s wrong? Is it my turn for the watch?”
“They’re burning up again!”
“What? Again?!”
This was absolutely abnormal. Wen Lingyu and I exchanged a long, uneasy look—but neither of us knew what was causing it.
“Since last night it’s been the same—both of them spike a fever at the same time, and when daylight comes, the fever disappears at the same time. That’s not a coincidence.”
Her words triggered something in my memory. Last night… what happened last night?
The Fireshard-cutting ritual…
The Fireshard-cutting ritual!
Two strange figures suddenly flashed through my mind—
Those two Miao villagers.
And their wine.
That was the only suspicious thing I could think of. I hadn’t imagined it—they had been sneaking something into the wine in the bamboo grove.
But Wen Lingyu and I drank that wine too.
No—Wen Lingyu didn’t. Her cup got knocked over. She never drank any.
As for me… if the wine was the problem, why was I fine?
This wasn’t the time to think about that. “We need to cool them down first.”
“But it’s pitch-dark outside,” she said helplessly. “Where are we supposed to find water?”
She wasn’t wrong—there hadn’t been a single stream on the way here. And the river running through the gorge was far below us, impossible to reach from these cliffs.
I paused, then suddenly remembered. “There’s water inside the cave.”
That faint dripping sound—intermittent and soft. Maybe we’d grown used to it after sitting here for so long and stopped noticing.
Wen Lingyu’s eyes widened. “I almost forgot!”
“I’ll go get some. You stay here and watch them.”
“But what if something’s inside? Caves like this are damp and—”
“That’s exactly why you shouldn’t come. We don’t know what’s in there, and I’m not letting you walk into danger.” I tightened my jacket and grabbed a long burning branch from the fire for light. I didn’t see the blush that rose on Wen Lingyu’s cheeks.
I tucked the water bottles into my jacket pockets and stepped deeper into the cave.
I hadn’t realized from the outside, but the cave was far deeper than it looked. The farther in I went, the colder it became. Goosebumps prickled along my skin.
“Hissss…”
“Ch-ch-ch—”
My arrival startled countless cave creatures, but thankfully none attacked. They scattered long before I got close.
The stick’s light only reached a limited distance, and beyond that was pure black. I still couldn’t find the source of the water. After walking a minute—maybe more—my nerves were stretched thin. The unknown ahead stoked a primal kind of fear, and for a moment I genuinely considered turning around and running.
Then—
Drip… drip…
Before fear could take over completely, the sound finally grew close. I reached out with the torch, and not far ahead, I saw it: a smooth bulge in the stone wall where water trickled from above, hitting the rock and falling into a tiny pool below with a clear, crystalline sound.
Finally. Found it.
Relief washed through me. I grabbed a bottle and stepped forward—
—only for my foot to slip.
A sudden drop beneath me—
A hollow pit!