The girls backed away very slowly, as if moving through thick tar, measuring every step, afraid to make the slightest sound. When the figure of the man in black finally vanished behind the trees, they ran. Their legs carried them forward on their own, away from that dreadful place. Branches lashed their faces and snagged at their clothes, grass cut into their ankles, but Xue and Minzhu did not stop for even a moment. The grim chant still rang in their ears, urging them to run faster. The sisters were afraid to look back, afraid to see the man in black running after them.

  Despite the terror, they did not lose their way and soon reached the river. Since morning they hadn’t had a single drop in their mouths, and after the long run their lips were dry, their tongues stuck to their palates. The girls simply couldn’t pass it by. They stopped briefly to drink, and at that moment it didn’t matter how dirty the water was. Both collapsed on the bank, onto the wet grass, just for a short while. The ground felt cold and pleasantly soothed their aching muscles.

  After quenching their thirst, the sisters returned to the shade of the trees and ran on, keeping close to the river. The splash of water and the cries of river gulls served as their guide, helping them not to get lost. Two small figures forced their way through the forest thicket as hunger drained their strength. On the move, they tore off leaves just to chew on them, but their hands still trembled and their fingers wouldn’t quite obey.

  The sky began to darken again, then stars appeared, and the forest filled with the sounds of night birds and the howls of predators. By then, Xue and Minzhu were completely exhausted, yet they kept trudging through the undergrowth. Tear tracks, already dried, marked their dirt-smeared faces; small leaves and twigs were tangled in their hair. The girls stumbled constantly, barely feeling their legs.

  “Don’t stop. We can’t. He… might… be following us,” the younger one muttered.

  “That’s enough, Minzhu. Let’s rest,” Xue said, stopping and swaying as she stepped up to her sister, gently patting her shoulder.

  “Okay,” came the hollow reply.

  “Look for a tree like last time.”

  “Mm,” Minzhu nodded silently.

  Still hungry, the sisters climbed high into the tree’s crown and settled in for the night. Before sleeping, just as instructed in their father’s scroll, they meditated for a long time to calm their hearts and restore their shaken will. The exhausting run had pushed them to their limit, and despite their fatigue, the energy inside them churned more than usual. Without noticing it themselves, the girls remained like that until dawn, until dewdrops gathered in their hair.

  After a whole night of meditation, their emotions eased a little, replaced by emptiness, as if their souls had gone numb for a while. Without saying a word, each lost in her own thoughts, the sisters climbed down the rough trunk to the ground and took a deep breath of the fragrant forest air. Though neither had slept for a full day, meditation helped restore their strength. Deciding not to linger in one place, Xue and Minzhu set off again at once.

  The girls’ sharp eyes noticed boar trails, places where claw marks scarred tree bark or tufts of fur were caught, but none of it stirred emotion anymore. They avoided them out of habit, without thinking, just like snakes hidden in the grass. Along the way, the sisters gathered berries, mushrooms, and edible plants, easing their hunger a little. From time to time they took deep breaths. The smell of grass and leaves soothed them somewhat, reminding them of days of calm and peace.

  Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

  Though the ritual lay far behind, it still flared up in their memories from time to time. Xue pictured the carved signs crusted with dried blood, the symbols on the dead men’s arms, as if they were moving, wanting to crawl from skin to skin. She would shudder and take Minzhu’s hand. It felt as though, if they stopped, that clearing would appear before their eyes again. Her younger sister was saying something to her, but Xue was lost in her thoughts.

  “This mushroom tastes better… if you fry it, it’ll be even better…” Minzhu’s words reached her.

  “Mm,” Xue nodded in response.

  Still, Xue could not afford such luxuries as self-pity or hesitation. Too much lay ahead; there was still a long road to travel. She rarely sank into despair, she was used to pain, hunger, and fear; they had always lived alongside her. The girl endured every blow of fate, cared for her sister, and then waited for the next day to come, or the one after that, where there would be less pain and fear. The numbness didn’t last long. Xue stubbornly furrowed her brows again.

  “We need baskets,” she said. “We’ll gather more food. There’s plenty here, and after that, who knows.”

  “Mm,” Minzhu agreed. “Now?”

  “No. First we need to find a place to sleep and get a proper rest. Tomorrow we’ll start preparing.”

  That evening they meditated again and sat like that until midnight. After a brief snack, they fell asleep amid the dense crown of a spreading tree. They didn’t fully understand how the mysterious technique from the scroll worked, but their former inner calm returned, along with deep, solid sleep. Late in the morning, persistent mosquitoes woke them, buzzing endlessly in their ears. Despite numerous bites, the girls had slept well for the first time in two days.

  Leaving their nighttime shelter, Xue unhurriedly collected dew from fern leaves into tiny bamboo flasks that always hung at her belt, while Minzhu walked the area and brought back several edible roots, five russula mushrooms, and quite a lot of berries. Apparently, people rarely came here, the forest abounded with food.

  Along the way, the girl gathered dry branches, scraped tinder from a stump with her dagger, added a bit of moss, then piled it all together under a tree. From the pouch Minzhu always carried, she took out a flint and, after a brief effort, lit a fire. She added just enough moss for the flame to catch, but not enough to produce much smoke.

  “I’m worried about our servant Shi Quan…” she suddenly said. “How is he? That man… didn’t hurt him, did he?”

  “Don’t worry. They chased after us right away,” Xue replied confidently. “The boy will manage. He’s clever… maybe too clever.”

  “Hehe, that’s true. I’ve got a good servant. We’ll find Father and come back for him. Okay?”

  “Um… if Father doesn’t mind.”

  “Mm,” Minzhu nodded.

  Tasting a mushroom roasted over the fire, she squinted with pleasure, then pulled out the roots and several wild potato tubers buried in the coals. When they broke them open, steam rose from the pale flesh, and Minzhu happily ate her share even without salt. A smile returned to her face. She wiped her nose, leaving a streak of soot beneath it, which made her older sister smile.

  “Now we need to make a woven bag and stock up on food,” Xue reminded her.

  “Alright. You weave, I’ll gather food. Hehe, I’m better at that than you!” Minzhu grinned, her familiar cheerfulness returning or perhaps she was just pretending, but Xue felt lighter all the same.

  “You’re just a glutton! Don’t go too far!”

  Fairly quickly, Xue found everything she needed and sat down to weave a bag from the materials. From time to time she lifted her head, searching for her sister among the undergrowth as Minzhu quietly gathered grass stems or dug roots from the ground. Sometimes she wandered a little farther, disappearing from sight, but soon returned. By the time Xue finished her work, berries lay at her feet on large fern leaves, beside them a small pile of nuts and wild potato tubers. Separately lay a strange-looking plant.

  “What’s this? It looks like something we’ve gathered before,” she said, lifting the stalk and examining it from all sides.

  “Yes. It seemed familiar to me too,” Minzhu agreed. “Only… why is it purple and so big?”