Hot flashes

They didn't dare linger in the cave.

This place isn't far from that village. If the old couple reports it to the authorities, the soldiers will definitely search the surrounding area. Now, the portraits on the wanted posters probably include more than just Xiao Jue.

Zhou Heng tidied up his things—actually, there wasn't much to tidy up. He put the bamboo tube in his pocket, finished the remaining dry rations, lost his bundle, and was out of money.

The two walked north along the ridge. They dared not take the main road and instead chose the mountain paths.

When thirsty, they drink from the stream; when hungry, they find wild fruits to fill their stomachs. There aren't many wild fruits in the mountains this season; occasionally, they might find a few sour wild pears or a bunch of half-ripe wild grapes, so sour they make their teeth ache.

Zhou Heng's stomach began to cramp. That empty, squeezing feeling spread from his stomach throughout his body.

He walked slower and slower, his legs felt like lead, and he had to grit his teeth to take each step.

They walked for a long time. After passing several villages, they saw smoke rising from chimneys in the distance and smelled the aroma of food. Zhou Heng's stomach clenched even more violently.

As soon as they encountered a village, they turned around and headed into the mountains.

The people in those villages might not harm them, and might even give them food, but they dared not gamble. They couldn't afford to gamble.

Zhou Heng had lost count of how many days he had been walking. He only remembered the endless cycle of day and night, from dawn to dusk, as if he were walking without ever reaching the end.

His legs grew heavier and heavier, each step requiring all his strength. Things in front of him began to blur, everything appeared double, and sometimes, as he walked, the path in front of him would split into two, leaving him unsure which one to step on.

"Xiao Jue," he said, his voice so soft it seemed to be blown away by the wind.

Xiao Jue turned around.

Zhou Heng stood there, his legs trembling, his whole body shaking. He wanted to say something, his lips moved, but suddenly everything went black.

Xiao Jue rushed over and helped him up.

Zhou Heng leaned on his shoulder, panting heavily. Xiao Jue's shoulders were very thin, and they hurt his face. His face was pressed against those thin shoulder blades, and he could feel the bones under the skin, one by one, pressing painfully against him.

"I'm fine," he said. "Just a little tired."

Xiao Jue didn't speak. He squatted down, put Zhou Heng's hand on his shoulder, and then stood up.

Zhou Heng lay on his back, his arms hanging limply in front of his chest, unable to muster any strength.

"Put me down," he said.

Xiao Jue didn't say anything, but lifted him up and continued walking forward.

Zhou Heng's face was pressed against his neck. He listened to Xiao Jue's breathing, heavy and labored, as if each step was squeezing the air out of his lungs.

"Put me down," he said again.

Xiao Jue tightened his grip, holding him even tighter.

Zhou Heng didn't say anything more. He leaned against Xiao Jue's back, watching the trees on both sides slowly recede into the distance.

Xiao Jue walked very slowly. Each step felt like stepping into a swamp, pulling himself out, stepping back in, and then pulling himself out again.

His breathing grew heavier and heavier, his chest heaving violently, and sweat streamed down his neck, soaking Zhou Heng's sleeves.

Xiao Jue walked for a long time, until it got dark and the moon rose. Zhou Heng drifted off to sleep on his back and then woke up again.

Xiao Jue's steps became slower and heavier, and his breathing became heavier and heavier.

The sound was no longer like panting; it was more like it was being forced out of the chest, one breath at a time, with a heartbreaking rhythm.

Zhou Heng pressed his face against his neck, feeling the skin there burning hot, damp with sweat, and trembling slightly. He moved his lips.

"Xiao Jue." The voice was very soft, as if afraid of disturbing something.

Xiao Jue didn't answer, but simply lifted him up a little. The movement was very forceful, and Zhou Heng could feel every muscle in his arm trembling.

"Put me down," Zhou Heng said.

Xiao Jue did not stop.

Zhou Heng's voice rose a little. "Xiao Jue, put me down."

Xiao Jue continued walking, with Zhou Heng clinging to his back.

"Listen to me." His voice was very soft, as if it might break at any moment. "You can get out of here by yourself. If you take me with you, we'll both die here."

Xiao Jue paused for a moment. Then he continued walking.

"What will happen to those things if you die?" Zhou Heng's voice grew softer and softer, as if he were talking in his sleep. "The revenge for your parents, the revenge for your master... the revenge for those people, who will avenge them?"

Xiao Jue's hand tightened suddenly, squeezing Zhou Heng's ribs painfully.

"Shut up." The voice was squeezed out from between his teeth, carrying a ruthlessness that Zhou Heng had never heard before.

Zhou Heng was stunned for a moment.

Xiao Jue didn't say anything more. He carried Zhou Heng on his back and walked forward step by step.