Finally, as the sun angled toward the west and shadows lengthened into black claws, He Xing stopped. "We've gone far enough for today. If we go deeper, we risk straying too far from Elder Yue's range."
Zhang Rulan merely nodded, still recording a diagram into his jade slip: an outline of a riverbend with beast trails branching off. His expression was calm, but his narrowed eyes betrayed how alert he truly was.
Han Yu, meanwhile, looked around one last time.
He burned the memory of the hollow tree's location into his mind, tracing a route back with meticulous detail. A narrow ravine, a crooked willow, a cluster of glowing fungi near a patch of swamp. He could find it again.
Just as they turned to head back, Zhang Rulan suddenly froze. His slim figure tensed, and his saber hand twitched ever so slightly.
"Something's following us," he murmured, his voice low, almost like the rustle of leaves.
