They didn't linger the next morning.
For the first time since entering the mountains, they had something they could rely on—not just instinct, not just luck, but a method.
So they moved.
Faster than before.
Not reckless, not careless—but with purpose.
Lin Mo walked ahead, his steps steadier now. The small adjustments in his footing, his balance, even the way he shifted weight while carrying Lin An'an—it all felt smoother. The difference wasn't dramatic, but it reduced mistakes.
And fewer mistakes meant less wasted energy.
Behind him, Shi Yue kept pace easily.
Not trailing.
Not struggling.
Just naturally beside him.
They didn't need to check on each other as often anymore.
Because they already knew.
—
By midday, they stopped briefly near a stream.
Not to rest fully.
Just enough.
Food first.
This time, Lin Mo didn't spend long searching. His eyes caught movement quickly—a small animal near the waterline.
He moved immediately.
No hesitation.
No overthinking.
Two steps.
A shift.
A strike.
Clean.
Done.
Shi Yue watched quietly.
"…You didn't miss," she said.
Lin Mo shrugged slightly. "…Didn't rush."
That was the difference.
—
They ate quickly.
No unnecessary delay.
Lin An'an sat between them, holding small pieces in both hands, eating slowly but steadily. Some of it dropped, and Shi Yue picked it up without thinking, brushing it lightly before handing it back.
Lin Mo noticed.
Next piece, he tore it smaller.
Easier to hold.
Shi Yue glanced at him.
Didn't say anything.
But there was a faint change in her expression.
—
After eating, they didn't lie down.
Didn't stretch out.
They sat.
Straight.
Focused.
Lin Mo took out the stone.
No words this time.
He closed his eyes.
Shi Yue followed immediately.
They didn't wait.
Didn't hesitate.
They began.
—
The thread came faster now.
Almost immediately.
Lin Mo found it, followed it, and this time—he didn't lose it halfway.
It moved.
Steady.
From chest.
Down.
Across.
Back.
A full cycle.
Completed.
Then—
another.
The second one was smoother.
Less resistance.
Less interruption.
Shi Yue matched him.
Not copying.
Not following.
Just… in sync.
Their breathing aligned again.
Naturally.
No effort.
The space around them felt still.
Not empty—
just undisturbed.
—
Minutes passed.
Not seconds.
Not moments.
Actual time.
And for the first time—
they didn't break immediately.
Lin Mo completed another cycle.
Then another.
Each one felt slightly easier.
Not because it was simple—
but because it was becoming familiar.
The faint warmth in his body no longer scattered.
It gathered.
Very slowly.
But consistently.
Shi Yue's presence beside him felt clearer too.
Not something separate.
But something… nearby.
Like two currents flowing alongside each other.
—
When they finally opened their eyes—
it wasn't because they failed.
It was because they chose to stop.
Lin Mo exhaled slowly.
"…That's better."
Shi Yue nodded.
"…Much better."
No excitement.
No shock.
Just progress.
Real progress.
—
Lin An'an clapped lightly again.
"Mo… Yue…"
Lin Mo reached out and pulled her closer, letting her lean against him.
Shi Yue adjusted her sleeve where Lin An'an had grabbed it, then gently brushed her hair back.
"You watched?" she asked softly.
Lin An'an nodded.
Didn't understand.
But stayed.
That was enough.
—
They moved again soon after.
The pace stayed steady.
No dragging steps.
No constant stopping.
They covered more ground in half a day than they had before.
And it showed.
The forest began to thin.
Not completely—but enough that light reached the ground more easily. The air felt less damp, less heavy.
Different.
Lin Mo noticed immediately.
"…We're getting out of the dense area," he said.
Shi Yue looked ahead.
"…Maybe."
Not certainty.
But direction.
That was enough.
—
By evening, they found a better place to stop.
Higher ground.
Cleaner space.
Fewer roots.
Less obstruction.
Lin Mo set up the fire quickly.
Shi Yue prepared the food.
Lin An'an sat between them, occasionally reaching for either of them without preference.
This time—
she leaned against both.
Half on Lin Mo.
Half on Shi Yue.
Neither moved her.
—
They ate.
Quietly.
No wasted words.
No forced conversation.
But not distant either.
Just… steady.
—
Afterward, they cultivated again.
Not as long as before.
But cleaner.
More controlled.
Each cycle completed without breaking.
Not perfect.
But consistent.
And that mattered more.
—
As night settled, the fire burned low.
Lin Mo leaned back slightly, the stone resting loosely in his hand.
Shi Yue sat close.
Closer than before.
Not leaning fully.
But not holding back either.
"…We're faster now," she said.
Lin Mo nodded. "…Yeah."
"…Not just walking."
"…No."
They both understood.
—
A short silence followed.
Then—
"…Do you think we'll leave the mountains soon?" she asked.
Lin Mo looked ahead into the darkness.
"…Eventually."
Not hopeful.
Not uncertain.
Just realistic.
Shi Yue nodded.
That was enough.
—
Lin An'an fell asleep between them again, her small hands gripping both of their clothes.
Shi Yue adjusted slightly so she wouldn't slip.
Lin Mo shifted just enough to support both of them.
Neither spoke.
Because they didn't need to.
—
The forest was still dangerous.
Still unknown.
Still far from safe.
But now—
they weren't just enduring it.
They were moving through it.
And with every step—
they were getting better.