Morning light had just climbed over the courtyard wall. Chen Wuya crouched beside the woodpile and took down the long hooked pole from the wall. Fine thread was wound around the pole, while the bell still hung beneath the eaves, swaying faintly. He did not touch it. He merely rolled the pole into some dry straw and tucked it away in the deepest part of the woodshed. When he came back out, he had an unfinished wooden bedboard in his hands.
Bai Zhi sat on a stone bench beneath the eaves, her needle and thread weaving through cloth. She was sewing a pair of tiny shoes, with thick soles and neat, dense stitches. Hearing his footsteps, she looked up at him, then lowered her gaze again.
"That trap..." she asked softly.
"I took it down." Chen Wuya set the board in the sunlight and slowly sanded its edges with a whetstone. "The child will crawl someday, then run. His first step can't land on an iron hook."
Bai Zhi paused her needle, her fingertips brushing over the shoe's surface as though testing its softness. She said nothing more, but the corners of her mouth loosened slightly.
Chen Wuya sat beside her and reached over for the needle and thread. He tried clumsily to thread it once and failed. Only on the second attempt did he succeed, drawing a soft laugh from Bai Zhi.
"You still remember how to sew?"
"Isn't it just in and out?" He frowned at the thread's end. "Much easier than practicing swordsmanship."
"Don't use the child's clothes to practice." She took the needle and thread back from him and resumed sewing, her movements gentle.
The two sat quietly for a while. Wind passed through the woods, stirring the cotton cloth hung beneath the eaves and making