Chapter 34

Chapter 34: Danger in the Woods

Song Wei Chen walked through the forest as night dew soaked into everything. The fever flared again, hot as a brand beneath her skin. Her wrist was swollen, pulsing with each heartbeat.

What a mess.

She let out a quiet, self-mocking laugh.

“W-who’s there?” a timid voice called from the darkness.

It startled Song Wei Chen so hard her breath hitched. “Who is it?”

She tensed, turning toward the sound.

A thin little girl stepped into view from the far end of the path, just as frightened as Song Wei Chen. She stared up at Song Wei Chen’s loose hair and white under-robe and stammered, “A-are you… human, or…”

Song Wei Chen exhaled slowly. Then she looked down at herself and almost laughed. With her hair falling wild and her clothes pale in the moonlight, she really did look like a ghost.

She gathered her hair back with one hand and stepped forward gently. “Don’t be afraid. I’m human. Little sister—why aren’t you home this late at night?”

“I… I want to find my mother.”

Up close, Song Wei Chen realized the child was only five or six. Her clothes were thin and worn, torn in places, and her big eyes looked like she’d been crying.

Song Wei Chen lifted a hand and brushed the girl’s cheek. Maybe it was because Song Wei Chen’s palm burned with fever, but the child’s face felt cool and soft.

“Where is your mother?” Song Wei Chen asked softly. “Why would she let you come out alone this late?”

The little girl pointed up toward the higher slope. “My mother is buried up there. Whenever I miss her, I sneak out at night to talk to her.”

Something in Song Wei Chen’s chest tightened so hard it hurt.

She took the girl’s hand. “I miss my mother too,” she said, voice roughening. “I miss her so much.”

Her throat closed for a beat before she forced the words out. “But I don’t even know where to find her. Little sister… I envy you.”

She squeezed gently. “It’s not safe in the dark. How about this—I’ll go with you to see your mother, okay?”

The girl’s eyes lit up. “Okay!”

Song Wei Chen led her up the hill. “What’s your name?”

“My mom calls me Bao Er,” the girl said. Then, smaller: “My stepmother calls me little mutt.”

Song Wei Chen’s nose stung. She tightened her grip on Bao Er’s hand. “Bao Er… your mother must have loved you very much.”

Near the mountaintop, the moonlight grew brighter. Bao Er pointed toward a bare mound of earth marked with a wooden sign. “That’s where she is. That’s where Mom lives.”

Song Wei Chen looked around. The view was open, nothing close by, nothing hiding.

She let go of Bao Er’s hand. “Go talk to your mother for a while,” she said. “I’ll wait right here. When you’re done, I’ll walk you home, okay?”

Bao Er nodded and skipped over.

Song Wei Chen watched her for a moment, but her vision slowly blurred. It felt like fire was burning in her chest, and the wind cut through her thin clothes, making her shiver.

She leaned against a nearby tree, using the trunk to hold herself upright.

[Song Wei Chen, even if you’re going to die, you hold on until you get the child home. Got it?]

The fog rolled in—thick, sudden, wrong.

Bao Er vanished into it.

“Bao Er!” Song Wei Chen called.

No answer.

Cold unease crawled up her spine. She stumbled forward, trying to find the child through the dense white—

But her strength finally gave out. Darkness swallowed her vision. Her foot slipped, and she pitched forward, tumbling down the slope.

The sky remained black.

The forest was dead silent.