Suddenly, a piercing chill shot up Wei's spine, as if ice water were being poured straight into the cracks of his bones.
He stiffened at once, his whole body locking up as though frozen by a sudden gust.
But it wasn't the wind.
And it wasn't an illusion.
The next instant, a cold, massive hand clamped down on his shoulder. The grip was so heavy—like iron jaws—that his breath cut off completely.
His first thought, absurdly, was: Father?
No. Impossible. His father couldn't be here.
Chun?
That was wrong too. The hand was too large, too hard—too much like… something inhuman.
The moment that realization struck, his chest collapsed inward, as if he had fallen into a deep well.
His heartbeat spiraled out of control, each thud pounding in his ears like a death knell.
Wei stood frozen, barely breathing.
He tried to twist his shoulder, to see who—or what—was behind him, but he couldn't break free at all.
A tide of despair surged over him, dragging him down into darkness. His mind filled with flashing nightmares—monsters, death, capture with no escape. It felt as if even his soul had been seized, pinned in place, unable to move, unable to breathe.
Just as terror was about to crush him completely, a familiar slap landed on the back of his head.
"Thick skull. When are you ever going to be half as sharp as Chun?"
Wei froze as if struck by lightning.
That voice.
That slap—loud enough to sting, light enough to never truly hurt.
He knew it too well.
His throat tightened, and for a moment he almost couldn't force the sound out.
"…Dad?"
The single word carried shock, the collapse of fear, and a dependence he was embarrassed to admit.
His knees nearly gave way. At the same time, the strength on his shoulder shifted, steadying him instead of restraining him.
Fear drained away in an instant, replaced by a rush of warmth that flooded his chest—the overwhelming sense of safety he hadn't realized he was craving.
From the shadows, a tall, steady figure stepped forward.
Even in the dark, the presence was unmistakable. It was a kind of solid authority, honed by years of hardship and experience, heavy enough to command attention without effort. Wei blinked, his chest loosening all at once.
He recognized him now.
It was his father. Lin.
"Dad… where did you come from?" Wei whispered.
Lin didn't bother explaining. His voice dropped to a sharp murmur."Over here."
He turned and went back toward his own bed. With a quick motion, he lifted a section of the floorboards.
The planks, which had looked seamless moments ago, shifted soundlessly, revealing a concealed hatch—just wide enough for one person to slip through.
Wei's heart jolted.
Since when had his father prepared something like this? An escape route, hidden beneath the floor?
He instinctively glanced back at Chun.
Her eyes were shining—too bright. The look on her face was a mix of surprise and something else, something closer to expectation. As if she hadn't known for sure, but had always suspected.
The sight only deepened Wei's confusion.
"Go out through here," Lin said rapidly. "The exit leads into the woods. Once you're out, head for the log bridge. After you cross—"
He cut himself off.
Then, slowly and with absolute certainty, he finished:
"Cut the suspension ropes of the bridge."
Wei's chest tightened."What about you? Aren't you coming with us?"
Lin straightened, his gaze sweeping the darkness like a hawk's.
"You're grown now," he said calmly."Take Chun and go. As far as you can. I'll meet up with you soon."
"Dad!" Wei grabbed his father's hand, panic bleeding into his voice. The danger wasn't gone—not even close. Turning back now meant stepping straight into the unknown.
He didn't want to let go. Somewhere deep down, he even resented his father's calm, his decisiveness.
But Lin only squeezed his hand once, firm and brief.
"Go," he said quietly."I'll hold them off."
Wei stopped just as Chun turned to climb into the tunnel.
"Wait!"
He spun around, heart leaping, convinced his father had finally changed his mind.
But Lin merely reached into Wei's clothing and pulled out the small clay jar Wei had been secretly hiding.
"Next time," Lin said evenly,"don't put something this dangerous under your bed."
Before Wei could react, another slap landed on his head.
Wei instinctively ducked his neck—but instead of irritation, a strange sense of relief spread through him. His heart settled.
"Dad," he blurted out,"there are a lot more under the bed!"
Lin raised his hand again on reflex—then froze, suddenly remembering that Chun was still there. He lowered it with a scowl.
"Chun," he said sharply,"get this idiot out of here."
He shoved both Wei and Chun toward the opening and slammed the hidden door shut behind them.
When Lin turned back around, he drew his hunting knife.
He faced the dark, yawning doorway head-on.
In that moment, the air around him changed.
This was no longer the quiet, aging hunter he had pretended to be for years. This was a man who had walked through countless moments of life and death—and survived.
Outside the door, the monster clad in golden arm guards stopped.
For the first time, it hesitated.