Suddenly, a freezing chill shot up Wei's spine, like ice water poured straight into his bones.
His whole body snapped tight, as if the wind itself had frozen him in place.
It was not the wind. And it was not his imagination.
In the next instant, an icy hand clamped down hard on his shoulder. The grip was heavy, like iron. It crushed the air out of his chest and stopped his breath.
His first thought was his father.
No. That was impossible. His father could not be here.
Chun? No. The hand was too large. Too solid. Too cold. Too much like something not human.
The moment he understood that, his chest seemed to cave in, as if he had fallen into a deep well.
His heartbeat spun out of control. Each thud sounded like a death bell ringing inside his ears.
Wei stood frozen, barely breathing.
He forced his shoulder to turn, trying to see who held him, but the grip did not loosen at all.
Despair rushed over him like a wave and dragged him down into darkness. His mind filled with broken images. Monsters. Death. No escape.
He felt as if even his soul had been seized. He could not move. He could not breathe.
Just as fear was about to crush him completely, a familiar smack landed on the back of his head.
"You thick headed boy. When will you learn to be half as quick as Chun?"
Wei stiffened as if struck by lightning.
That voice. That sound. The slap that felt heavy but was never meant to hurt.
He knew it too well.
His throat tightened, and he almost failed to speak.
"Dad?"
The word carried shock, the collapse after fear, and a kind of reliance he was ashamed to admit.
His knees nearly gave out, but the force on his shoulder shifted at once. His father steadied him.
The fear drained away in a rush, replaced by a warmth that filled his chest.
From the shadows stepped a tall, steady figure. Calm. Solid. The kind of presence shaped by years and hard experience. It pressed down on the space around him, impossible to ignore.
Wei stared, then let out a breath.
It was his father. Lin.
"Dad, where did you come from?"
Lin did not explain. He only said in a low voice,"Come here."
He turned and walked back to the bed. He reached down and lifted a section of the floor. A hidden door opened soundlessly, fitting perfectly into the boards. It was just wide enough for one person to slip through.
Wei's heart jumped.
Since when do farmers build escape tunnels?
He turned without thinking and saw Chun. Her eyes were strangely bright. She looked surprised, but also as if she had expected this all along. That only made Wei more confused.
"Dad, you planned this ahead of time? Who are you, really?"
"This is for bandits," Lin snapped."Every house has one. What are you thinking?"
"Then why did I not know about it?"
"Every time I told you to work, you said your stomach hurt. Now move." Lin spoke fast."Go through the woods. After that, the single log bridge. Once you cross it…"
His voice cut off.
Then he continued, slow and firm.
"Cut the rope holding the bridge."
Wei's chest tightened."What about you? You are not coming with us?"
Lin straightened. His eyes swept through the night like a hawk's.
"You are grown now," he said."Take Chun. Go as far as you can. I will meet you soon."
"Dad." Wei grabbed his father's hand. He could not keep the fear out of his voice. The danger was not over. Going back now meant anything could happen.
He did not want to let go. Part of him even resented his father's calm and decision.
Lin squeezed his hand once. His voice stayed low and firm.
"Go. I still have to find your mother."
Wei stopped just as Chun turned to leave.
"Wait."
He spun around, thinking his father had changed his mind.
But Lin only reached into his clothes and pulled out the small clay jar Wei had been hiding,
and casually slipped a small booklet into it at the same time.
"Next time, do not put something this dangerous under your bed."
Before Wei could answer, another slap landed on his head.
Wei ducked his neck, but this time he felt calmer instead of hurt.
"Dad, there are lots more under the bed. Maybe I should have built more."
Lin raised his hand again without thinking, then remembered Chun was still there. He lowered it.
"Chun, take this idiot and go."
He shoved his son and Chun toward the tunnel in a sudden burst of force, almost throwing them inside. It was not gentle. It was urgent. He pressed them down into the narrow dark with both hands, then reached up and pulled the hidden door shut.
Wood slid against stone. The fit was perfect. The last thin line of light vanished, swallowed by darkness.
Through that closing gap, Wei caught one final glimpse of his father.
Lin had already turned around.
He stood with his back to the unseen escape, cutting it off completely. His wrist flicked, smooth and practiced, and the hunting knife slid into his palm as if it belonged there. The blade caught the faint light and flashed once, cold and sharp.
He took his position at the mouth of the tunnel.
He faced the dark doorway head on.
In that moment, his back was straight, his breathing calm and even. There was no hesitation in him. He looked like an old hunter standing by a trap, waiting for the beast to show itself. At the same time, he looked like a man forged through countless moments balanced between life and death.
Outside, the heavy, slow footsteps stopped.
The silence that followed was tight, stretched thin like a bow pulled to its limit.
Then a voice came through the door.
Low. Rough. Worn thin by time and violence.
It carried mockery, and certainty.
"Lin," it said. "We meet again."