I observed him intently as he stood before the group, his body tense and his voice slicing through the air with a sharp edge, saturated with frustration. His eyes darted around the room, reflecting a storm of emotions as he tried to convey the weight of his feelings.
"Let's get one thing straight," he began, his gaze sweeping over each of us before settling on Tianyi.
"Leaving the main group wasn't my idea. If it were up to me, we wouldn't even be here."
I raised an eyebrow, my curiosity piqued. "What do you mean?" I asked cautiously, my voice barely cutting through the charged atmosphere.
Yike let out a bitter laugh, running a hand through his disheveled hair.
"I mean, this whole mess was Tianyi's idea," he snapped, gesturing toward her with an accusatory finger.
"She's the one who insisted we leave. Said it'd only take a couple of hours to find this place. But guess what? It's been almost half a day, and we're lucky we didn't get ambushed along the way."
Tianyi stood silent, her expression unreadable as she met Yike's glare without flinching. She didn't respond, but the slight tightening of her jaw betrayed her irritation.
Before I could process Yike's outburst, he turned his attention to Zichen, his tone growing even sharper.
"And let's not forget why we're here in the first place," he continued, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
"All because your little sister decided to trust a stranger. Brilliant move, by the way."
Zichen's eyes flashed with anger, and he took a step forward, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. "Don't you dare blame Tianyi for this," he said evenly, his voice low and controlled but laced with fury.
"She was genuinely trying to assist, motivated by a desire to make a positive impact. Unlike you, she didn't dwell on the potential dangers of her actions; she acted out of goodwill and trust in others. Her approach stems from an optimistic view of humanity, whereas you often seem to focus on the negative, assuming the worst about people's intentions." I shared my thoughts during our emotionally charged conversation, hoping to help us better understand each other. My words seem to slip away like fleeting shadows, fading into the background.
Yike's eyes narrowed, his voice rising. "Optimism? Is that what we're calling recklessness now?" He stepped forward, his shoes grinding against the gravel. "You think good intentions are enough out here? That trust magically keeps us safe?"
Tianyi finally spoke, her voice cold and precise. "I made a judgment call. We were not wasting time with the main group, and going in circles is not always a bad call. I saw an opportunity and I took it."
"You saw an opportunity," Yike repeated mockingly. "And dragged us into a dead zone with no backup, no supplies, and no plan B. That's not leadership—that's ego."
"Enough," Zichen calmly stepped between them, aiming to create a space for understanding as he sought to defuse the tension brewing between them.
A palpable tension that seemed to vibrate with each heartbeat.
"You're twisting everything. Tianyi didn't act alone. We all agreed to split off."
"No," Yike shot back, "we didn't all agree. You followed her because you always do. Because you can't think for yourself when she's involved."
Zichen's fists trembled at his sides. "Say that again."
"Guys, stop!" I interjected, but the rising storm drowned out my voice.
Biahe, who had been silent until now, suddenly spoke up from the edge of the group.
"Yike's not wrong," she said quietly, but her words cut deep. "We should've stayed with the others. This place isn't what we thought it'd be. And now we're stuck."
The silence that followed Biahe's words was deafening.
Tianyi turned slowly, her eyes locking onto Biahe's. "You agreed," she said, voice low and trembling with restrained fury. "You said you believed in the plan."
"I did," Biahe replied, her voice cracking. "But belief doesn't change the fact that we're here, exhausted, and running out of time. I thought you knew what you were doing."
"I do," Tianyi snapped. "I didn't lie; my trust in them was based on careful consideration and a deep understanding of their intentions. However, you will never be able to fully grasp the depth of my perspective, as it encompasses experiences and insights that are beyond your current understanding."
Yike scoffed. "You didn't lie, you just led us blindfolded into a minefield."
Zichen stepped forward again, his voice tight. "Yike, that's enough. You are not contributing positively right now."
"I'm not trying to contribute anything," Yike said, his voice rising. "I'm trying to survive. And if that means calling out the people who got us into this mess, then so be it."
"We came to a mutual understanding. If it's slipped your mind, I can gently jog your memory and help you recall our agreement."
Yike's jaw clenched as he stepped forward, his voice now a low snarl.
"Don't patronize me, Zichen. You think I forgot? I remember every word of that so-called agreement."
Zichen's face darkened, his fists trembling at his sides. "You're crossing a line."
"No," Yike spat, "I'm drawing one."
Tianyi opened her mouth, seemingly ready to express her thoughts, but I straightened my posture, the air thick with unspoken tension.
My voice emerged, sharp and clear, cutting through the silence like a blade, demanding attention and leaving no room for ambiguity.
"You want to walk away? Then walk. But don't pretend you're doing it for the group. This is about your pride, Yike. You never wanted to follow anyone but yourself."
The scarred man moved with quiet authority, his boots crunching against the gravel as he placed himself between Tianyi and Yike. His presence was like a sudden shift in pressure—an invisible force that demanded attention, even if no one was willing to give it.
His face, weathered and lined with stories no one had asked to hear, bore the kind of scars that spoke of survival, not vanity. One ran from his temple to the edge of his jaw, faded but unmistakable.
"Enough," he said, his voice low but firm. "Stop it. All of you. This isn't helping."
No one responded.
Baihe looked away, her arms wrapped around herself, her face pale and unreadable.
Something that had once held together through shared purpose now splintered by doubt, pride, and exhaustion.
Yike turned away first, his shoulders rigid, his steps deliberate.