Morning dew slid from the eaves and struck the edge of the shallow ditch in the corner of the yard. The fine sand was utterly undisturbed; even the traces left by the wind were clearly visible. Chen Wuya crouched beside the ditch for a moment, lightly brushing the sand with his fingertips to confirm that no new footprints had appeared.
He rose, dusted off his hands, and turned toward the door.
The woodpile had been moved to the other side of the yard, three paces from the wall. The mud that had been splashed with water was still dark. A wooden bucket lay upside down beside the well, its rope coiled neatly. He had not slept last night, standing watch the entire night until the sky began to brighten and the woods fell silent once more.
A soft humming drifted from inside. Bai Zhi was soothing the child. Her voice was quiet but steady, like a stream gliding along stone.
Chen Wuya pushed the door open and stepped inside lightly. Sunlight slanted through the window crack, falling across the cradle. The child lay awake, tugging back and forth at a strip of cloth with tiny hands, little "ah-ah" sounds coming from their throat. Bai Zhi sat on the edge of the bed with a newly sewn little garment in her hands, the thread still uncut.
She looked up at him. "You didn't sleep a wink?"
"Couldn't sleep easy." He walked to the cradle and bent down to look. "But no one came back."
Bai Zhi did not reply. She merely folded the little garment and placed it beside the pillow. Her fingers were faintly pale, with several tiny pinpricks on their pads.
Chen Wuya reached out and touched the child's forehead. Warm. The child turned and grinned at him, drool