Wei closed his eyes, then opened them again.
The pain was gone now. His vision was still a little blurred, as if the world had been wiped with a damp cloth, but it was far better than before. He blinked several times, testing the edges of things, and felt a quiet relief settle into his chest.
Even so, his thoughts refused to let go of what had just happened at home.
He lingered on it greedily, savoring the strange, almost miraculous sensation. It reminded him of a child who, by pure accident, finds a shining gem at the bottom of a river. The discovery itself is thrilling, but what truly takes hold is the thought that follows. If there is one gem, then there might be another. Somewhere nearby. Just out of sight.
"Wei!"
A warm hand reached from behind and grabbed his right hand. He flinched, then recognized it at once. Chun's hand.
"What's wrong with you?" she asked.
In Wei's memory, Chun had always been a bright, open girl.
The first time they met, she had stepped out of the crowd as if pulled by the sun itself and greeted him before anyone else had the chance.
"Hi, I'm Chun."
Her face had been flushed red from the heat, her smile wide and unguarded. When she laughed, she laughed with her whole mouth, as if she had laid her heart out in the open for anyone to see.
The first time she cooked, she proudly held up a burnt lamb leg and thrust it toward him, her eyes shining like they were about to spill stars.
"Try it. I made it."
The smell of fat and smoke rushed up, warm and rich, though a little overcooked.
At the time, Wei took it from her hands stiffly, the words you overcooked it almost slipping out.
His father had stood nearby and winked at him. Wei had thought his old man's eyes were just stinging from the smoke.
His mother had gently nudged his arm and whispered, "Be nice to your new friend…"
He had nodded, confused. Back then, he had not even figured out what "being nice" was supposed to mean.
"What are you thinking about?" Chun asked now, clearly puzzled by why Wei had suddenly frozen in place.
Wei looked at her, then past her, forcing his thoughts to settle.
"Chun," he said, his voice low and steady, "from now on, you follow my instructions exactly. Don't take a single wrong step."
"Okay," Chun replied without hesitation. She did not ask why.
This was something they had developed while hunting together. A kind of unspoken understanding.
But was it really just the trust between hunting partners?
Wei shook his head sharply. Now was not the time for that. He needed to focus.
He raised his hand and pointed ahead. His tone was calm, almost mechanical, as if he were reciting a set of instructions he had memorized long ago.
"From that tree, walk forward thirty steps. There will be a bush."
They moved in the direction he indicated.
Not one step more, not one step less. After thirty steps, a dense bush appeared in front of them, its branches wild and tangled, thick enough to swallow a person whole.
"Yes. This is it." Wei let out a breath he had not realized he was holding. "Inside the bush, there's a wooden marker—"
"Oh, I see it."
Before he could finish, Chun had already crouched down and reached into the bush, feeling around with her hand.
"The marker has an arrow drawn on it—wait."
Wei's voice caught. His pupils slowly widened.
"What are you doing?" he asked.
With a sharp tug, Chun pulled the wooden marker free. She dusted off the dirt, then held it up proudly in front of Wei.
"It's easier to see if I take it out."
Wei stared at her.
"You," he said, his voice beginning to tremble, "why did you pull it out?"
Chun lowered her head and studied the marker seriously. "There really is an arrow on it. Looks like someone put a lot of care into drawing it. What does this arrow mean?"
Wei lifted a hand to his forehead. He drew in a long breath, then let it out slowly, trying to keep himself from unraveling.
"That," he said, each word pressed out with effort, "was the safety exit I marked."
The air froze.
Chun's expression finally changed, just a little, as if she had only now realized that she might have made a mistake.
"…Oh."
She immediately dropped to the ground, holding the wooden marker with both hands. Carefully, nervously, she tried to line it back up with the spot where it had been.
"Th-then if I put it back," she asked, "is it still in time?"
Wei stared at her back. His eyes were already starting to lose focus.
"In theory," he said slowly, "we now just have to choose between two directions."
Chun looked up and nodded seriously. "That sounds easy enough."
"Easy my ass!" Wei finally exploded.
-----------------
Crack—
Less than a hundred meters away, a sharp sound snapped through the air.
Wei's steps halted abruptly.
He lifted one hand in a silent signal to stop. His whole body stiffened, as if nailed to the ground. He tilted his head slightly, every nerve drawn tight, ears straining for the smallest detail.
"Move."
Without hesitation, he picked a direction at random, grabbed Chun's hand, and pulled her deeper into the forest.
"What is it?" Chun stumbled as he dragged her forward.
"Nothing," Wei said quietly. "Probably imagined it."
He offered no further explanation, but his pace clearly quickened.
The air in the forest felt like a thick cloth soaked in water, heavy and suffocating. With every step forward, the pressure seemed to increase. His chest tightened. Even breathing began to feel like work.
Crack—
Another sharp sound rang out, painfully clear in the silence.
Crack—
A third followed almost immediately.
Then came a short, muffled grunt, so brief it was nearly swallowed by the trees.
This time, the sound was unmistakable.
And much closer.
Chun's breathing faltered.
"Th-that…" she whispered, forcing her voice low, "was that the sound of a trap?"
"Yes."
"Then why… why wasn't there any animal noise?"
"Don't talk."
Wei's reply was clipped and hushed, the words squeezed out through his throat.
The movement behind them did not stop.
Heavy footsteps emerged from the darkness, growing clearer with each step. The ground trembled faintly beneath the weight. The rhythm was steady, unhurried, almost deliberate.
Wei kept moving, his mind racing as he calculated.
These were adult footsteps.
…No. That wasn't right.
Even a grown man wouldn't sound this heavy.
He had only heard this kind of weight once before—
The time he had encountered a black bear, over two and a half meters tall, charging at full speed.
Distance—
Roughly seventy or eighty meters.
Chun's hand began to shake in his.
"There's… there's someone following us," she murmured, barely more than breath.
"Run."
The instant the word left his mouth, Wei tightened his grip and surged forward, pulling her into a sprint.
Experience told him one thing clearly. The larger the body, the slower the start.
There was no point in hiding now.
Only one option remained—
Outrun it.
The forest ahead was a blur of darkness.
Shadows tangled with tree trunks.
Everything merged into one shifting mass.
Wei ran blind.
He stretched his arms forward, feeling for space.
Branches whipped his arms.
Skin tore.
Pain flared hot and sharp.
Then his foot came down.
Click.
The ground vanished.
A violent snap tore upward.
Steel almost bit his ankle.
The force yanked him off his feet.
Wei flew.
He ignored it.
Then—
From behind and slightly to the side, a piercing alarm exploded into the air.
Sharp. Sudden. Violent.
It tore straight into his ears.
Too close.
Terrifyingly close.
No more than three meters away.
How was that possible?