Lin Yue shifted for what felt like the tenth time.
The ground was hard. Uneven. A sharp stone pressed into his side no matter how he turned. His injured leg throbbed faintly, reminding him that no amount of willpower could make bare earth feel like a bed.
"…I can't sleep," he muttered.
Feng Lihan, who had been sitting nearby with his eyes half-closed, opened them immediately. "Does your leg hurt?"
"That too," Lin Yue admitted, then sighed. "But mostly… there's no bed."
Feng Lihan frowned. "This cave is dry. It's better than most places."
"I know," Lin Yue said quickly. "And I'm grateful. But sleeping like this every night will make recovery slower."
He pushed himself up, brushing dirt from his clothes. "I want some tools."
"Tools?" Feng Lihan echoed.
"Yes. If we go into the forest, we can get wood. I can make a simple bed. And maybe a stool—sitting on rocks isn't great either."
Feng Lihan stared at him he don't understand anything what lin yue said but .
"…You can make those?"
"They won't be pretty," Lin Yue said honestly. "But they'll work."
Feng Lihan was silent for a moment, then stood. "Then we'll go together." i will help you...
Lin Yue blinked. "Now?"
"The forest is safer with two people," Feng Lihan said. "And if you're building something, I'll help."
Something warm stirred in Lin Yue's chest. "…Alright."
They headed into the forest as the moonlight filtered through the trees. Feng Lihan moved confidently, pushing aside branches, occasionally snapping dead limbs with his bare hands. Lin Yue, meanwhile, scanned the ground, selecting fallen wood, checking its weight and grain.
"This one," Lin Yue said, tapping a thick branch. "It's strong but not too heavy."
Feng Lihan picked it up effortlessly. "Like this?"
"…Yes," Lin Yue said, smiling despite himself.
They gathered several pieces and returned to the cave. Lin Yue sat on a flat rock, focusing, mind slipping into a familiar rhythm. Using sharp stone edges and careful pressure, he began shaping the wood.
Feng Lihan crouched nearby, watching intently.
Clack. Scrape. Crack.
Wood shavings fell to the ground.
"What are you making first?" Feng Lihan asked.
"A stool," Lin Yue replied. "If I mess up, it won't matter as much."
Feng Lihan nodded seriously, as if this was a major strategic decision.
Slowly, something recognizable took shape—four uneven legs, a flat surface on top. It wasn't smooth, and it leaned slightly to one side, but when Lin Yue carefully set it down, it held.
He tested it cautiously.
It didn't collapse.
Lin Yue let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. "There. A stool."
Feng Lihan's eyes widened.
"You made that," he said, disbelief clear in his voice.
Lin Yue laughed softly, a little embarrassed. "It's crude."
Feng Lihan reached out and sat on it.
It creaked—but held.
"…This is amazing," he said slowly. "You didn't hunt. You didn't fight. But you turned wood into something useful."
Lin Yue looked at his hands, rough now with splinters. "Back where I'm from, this kind of thing is normal."
Feng Lihan shook his head. "Not here."
He stood, looking at Lin Yue with something close to reverence. Feng lihan your hand injured , your soft hand ... Sigh 😔 "Tomorrow, you just tell me i make a for you what you want .
Lin Yue smiled, tired but satisfied. "Tomorrow." sure.
For the first time since arriving in this world, he wasn't just surviving—
he was shaping the space around him.