The first ray of dawn, like the sharpest stone knife, sliced through the dense darkness deep in the Ailao Valley.
Lin Yu'an opened his eyes almost the moment the light appeared.
No alarm, no bird song, it was the instinctive vigilance ingrained deep in his genes to changes in the environment that awoke him.
Outside the shelter, the fire had ceased to burn. After a night of consumption and the heavy moisture in the valley, the outermost layer of charcoal had completely extinguished, covered with a thin layer of white frost and glistening dewdrops.
Yet a breeze passed by, and in the depths of that seemingly lifeless ash heap, there was still a faint red glow stubbornly flickering.
The air in the valley was cold and damp, with a temperature possibly around 5 degrees Celsius. Each breath inhaled brought a chill into his lungs, waking him fully.
