Weijie had already risen by then, sitting up with his hair retied and his face composed, the soft morning version of him tucked away somewhere she suspected only she ever got to see.
He had taken the loose water stopper and was working a replacement fix with a strip of hide, his hands quiet and efficient.
The entrance darkened.
"Ningning—" Xiaoli stopped in the opening, took in the organized provisions, the tied bundles, the loaded clay vessels, and turned to look at her with an expression caught somewhere between relief and outrage. "You already sorted everything."
"Most of it," Ningning said.
"We were supposed to help with that."
"You are helping. Xiaoli, you said you were bringing vine cord."
Xiaoli held up the coil in her arms like it was evidence of something and then looked at it and seemed to deflate slightly. "...Yes."
