The second day in the mountains began harder than the first.
Not because of danger.
Because of exhaustion.
Lin Mo woke before the light fully reached the ground, his body stiff and sore. The previous day's fight, the walking, the lack of proper rest—it all caught up at once. For a moment, he didn't move, just listening to the quiet rhythm of breathing beside him.
Lin An'an was pressed against his side, one arm draped across him in her sleep, her small fingers curled into his clothes. She had shifted sometime during the night, as she always did, seeking warmth without knowing it.
On his other side, Shi Yue was closer than she had been before.
Not by accident.
At some point during the night, she had leaned against him—not fully, not consciously—but enough that her shoulder rested lightly against his arm. Her hand was still gripping the edge of his sleeve, just like before.
Lin Mo glanced down at it.
This time, he didn't move away.
Instead, he adjusted slightly so she wouldn't lose balance when she woke.
It was a small thing.
But it was natural.
Because this wasn't new.
They had always lived like this.
Sharing what little space they had. Sleeping close during cold nights. Holding onto each other when things got difficult.
Nothing about this was unfamiliar.
Only the place had changed.
—
Shi Yue woke a little later.
She didn't startle. Didn't pull away immediately.
She simply blinked, her gaze settling slowly, before realizing where she was.
Then she straightened slightly, her hand slipping from his sleeve.
"…You're awake," she said softly.
"Been up for a while," Lin Mo replied.
She nodded faintly, glancing at Lin An'an, who was still asleep between them.
"…She slept well," Shi Yue said.
"Yeah."
A pause.
Then, quietly, "You didn't."
Lin Mo gave a small exhale. "Doesn't matter."
Shi Yue frowned slightly, but didn't push.
Instead, she reached out without thinking and adjusted Lin An'an's position, making sure she was more comfortable. Her movements were careful, familiar—something she had done countless times before.
Lin Mo watched her for a moment.
"…You've always been better at that," he said.
Shi Yue looked at him. "…At what?"
"Taking care of her."
She shook her head lightly. "We both do."
Lin Mo didn't argue.
Because she was right.
—
They didn't stay long after that.
Food had to be found again.
The small amount from yesterday wasn't enough to last.
This time, they moved with more awareness.
Not just of danger—
but of need.
Lin Mo paid closer attention to the surroundings, noticing small signs he had ignored before. Broken twigs, disturbed soil, faint tracks in the dirt.
He wasn't skilled.
But he was learning.
Shi Yue stayed close—not because she needed to—but because that was how they moved now. When the path narrowed, she naturally followed just behind him. When the ground became uneven, her hand would rest briefly against his arm, steadying herself without thought.
At one point, Lin An'an grew restless again, her quiet murmurs turning into soft complaints.
"Ge…" she said, tugging weakly at his clothes.
Lin Mo stopped.
Before he could adjust her, Shi Yue had already stepped closer.
"Give her to me," she said.
Lin Mo hesitated for a moment.
Not because he didn't trust her.
But because he wasn't used to letting go.
Still, he carefully shifted Lin An'an into her arms.
Shi Yue held her naturally, supporting her weight without struggle. Lin An'an settled almost immediately, her small head resting against Shi Yue's shoulder.
"…Better?" Shi Yue murmured softly.
Lin An'an didn't answer.
But she relaxed.
That was enough.
Lin Mo watched for a moment.
Then turned back to the path.
"…We'll find food soon," he said.
Not a promise.
But close.
—
It didn't take as long this time.
Near a cluster of low bushes, Lin Mo spotted small berries growing along thin branches. He crouched, examining them carefully.
"…Are these safe?" Shi Yue asked.
"I don't know," he admitted.
That was the problem.
In the village, even if food was scarce, it was known.
Here—
everything was uncertain.
Lin Mo hesitated.
Then reached for one.
"…Wait," Shi Yue said.
He paused.
She stepped closer, shifting Lin An'an slightly so she could use one hand to take the berry instead.
"I'll try first," she said.
Lin Mo frowned. "No."
"It's fine," she replied. "If something happens, you'll know not to eat it."
"That's not a good reason."
Shi Yue looked at him.
"…Neither is you trying first."
They held each other's gaze for a moment.
Then—
without another word—
they split it.
Half each.
It wasn't a plan.
Just instinct.
Lin Mo almost let out a quiet breath.
They ate.
Waited.
Nothing happened.
Shi Yue nodded slightly. "…It's fine."
Lin Mo gave a small nod.
They gathered what they could.
Not much.
But enough.
—
Later, near a shallow stream, they stopped again.
This time, Lin Mo didn't wait.
He took out the stone.
Sat down.
Closed his eyes.
Shi Yue sat beside him immediately.
Not watching from a distance.
Not separate.
Right there.
Lin An'an rested between them, playing absentmindedly with a small stick, tapping it lightly against the ground.
Lin Mo focused.
The same method as before.
Breathing.
Stillness.
Awareness.
This time—
it came faster.
That faint sensation.
That quiet presence.
He followed it.
Not forcing.
Not chasing.
Just staying with it.
Shi Yue did the same.
Without being told.
Their breathing slowly matched.
Not perfectly.
But close.
For a moment—
it felt steady.
Then—
it slipped again.
Both of them opened their eyes almost at the same time.
Shi Yue exhaled softly. "…It's still unstable."
Lin Mo nodded. "Yeah."
But there was no frustration in his voice.
Just certainty.
"…We'll get it," he said.
She looked at him.
Then nodded.
"…We will."
No doubt.
Because this wasn't new.
This—
learning together—
struggling together—
figuring things out without knowing—
They had always done this.
—
As the sun lowered, they found another place to rest.
This time, closer to the stream.
Safer.
Easier.
Lin Mo started the fire.
Shi Yue prepared what little food they had.
Lin An'an stayed between them, occasionally reaching toward the flames before being gently pulled back.
"Careful," Shi Yue murmured, guiding her hand away.
Lin Mo handed over a small piece of cooked food.
Shi Yue passed it to Lin An'an first.
Without thinking.
Lin Mo noticed.
He didn't say anything.
Just took his share after.
It was quiet.
Simple.
But steady.
—
That night, when the fire burned low and the cold began to settle again, they sat closer.
Not because of fear.
Not because of the unknown.
But because that's how it had always been.
Lin An'an fell asleep first, leaning against Shi Yue.
After a while, Shi Yue shifted slightly, resting lightly against Lin Mo again.
This time—
neither of them moved away.
No hesitation.
No awareness of it as something new.
Because it wasn't.
Lin Mo looked ahead into the dark forest.
Still unknown.
Still dangerous.
Still uncertain.
But now—
it didn't feel like he was facing it alone.
And he never had been.