As morning light just crested the ridge, Bai Zhi's fingertip twitched. The scrap of paper on her sword tassel was swept away by the wind and vanished beyond the cliff's edge. She did not chase after it, merely slowly withdrew her hand and turned her gaze toward Chen Wuya.
He was crouched beside last night's extinguished fire, lightly brushing aside the ashes with his fingertips to reveal a small candle stub buried beneath. Its wick was charred black and could no longer be lit, yet he did not discard it. He simply tucked it into an inner compartment of his pack, as naturally as if he were picking up a stone.
"After the wolves howled, no one came again," he said softly, his voice still rough from sleep. "They didn't even leave footprints."
Bai Zhi nodded, rose to dust off her skirt, and said nothing more. The two followed the stream upstream. The stones beneath their feet had been polished smooth by the water and were slippery underfoot, forcing them to watch every step. After walking for about half an hour, the terrain gradually leveled out, but the forest grew denser still. Pines and cypresses intertwined overhead, blocking most of the sky.
The slope ahead suddenly opened up. A broken cliff stood behind it, a shallow stream ran before it, and dense woods flanked both sides, with only a narrow path winding in. Chen Wuya stopped and surveyed the surroundings, the furrow in his brow slowly easing.
Bai Zhi walked to the edge of an earthen slope and crouched, grabbing a handful of soil. It was dark brown, moist, and soft, with tiny roots and decaying leaves visible between her fingers. She rubbed it thoughtfully and said in a low voice, "Things can grow here."
"More than just things can