The days passed quickly. The summer remained just as hot; however, with each passing day, the sun seemed to grow stronger. It was as if it were burning high in the sky, wanting to transform the earth into a vast inferno.
On Quian Mountain, the breezes still blew strongly. Those winds alleviated the unbearable weight of the heat. Thanks to them, the air did not become a suffocating yoke, but rather a harsh respite that kept the summer heat at bay.
The rope system allowed people to move around naturally. Sliding along them, they moved from one point to another while chatting quietly, as if it were the most normal thing in the world. For outsiders, it was a rare sight; for the inhabitants of Quian, it was nothing out of the ordinary.
Accustomed to it since birth, this practice was part of their daily lives. The vertigo, the creaking of the pulleys... none of that bothered them. On the contrary, it was as natural as walking along a dirt path.
