The dirt road to Pine Hollow wound through a forest of pine trees, their needles rustling in the wind and filling the air with a sharp, fresh scent. By midday, the sound of rushing water grew louder— a river, Xiao Ya explained, that powered the village's mill.
"There it is," she said, pointing ahead. Through the trees, they spotted Pine Hollow: a cluster of wooden houses huddled beside a wide river, with a tall, weathered mill standing at its edge. The mill's sails were still, and smoke curled weakly from its chimney.
As they approached, a young man ran toward them— his overalls stained with sawdust, his hair messy. "Are you the travelers Granny Mei told us about?" he asked, breathless. "The ones who fix things?"
Mo Ying stepped forward, grinning and tapping her wrench. "That's us. Name's Mo Ying. This is Lin Che, Su Qing, and Xiao Ya. The mill's broken?"
The man nodded, relief flooding his face. "I'm Tom— the miller's son. The main gear snapped three days ago. We can't grind wheat without it— the village will run out of bread in a week. We've tried fixing it, but…." He trailed off, shaking his head.
"Show us," Mo Ying said.
Tom led them to the mill. Inside, it was dark and dusty, with wooden gears as tall as a person lining the walls. The broken gear lay on the floor— a massive piece of oak, its teeth splintered and cracked.
Mo Ying knelt beside it, running her hand over the wood. "Rotten," she said, frowning. "The wood's been wet for too long— turned soft. We can't fix this one— we need to make a new gear."
Tom's face fell. "We don't have any oak left. The only trees we have are pines— they're too soft. The nearest lumber camp is three days away."
Xiao Ya stepped forward, her hands glowing faintly green. She walked to the mill's open window, pressing her palm to a pine tree outside. She closed her eyes, whispering, then turned back, smiling. "The pine trees say they can help. Their wood is stronger than you think— if we treat it with the right herbs. The ferns by the river have sap that makes wood hard, like oak."
Mo Ying raised an eyebrow. "Herb sap? Never tried that. But if the plants say it works…."
Lin Che nodded. "Let's do it. Tom, can you gather the villagers to cut a pine tree? Su Qing and I will help Xiao Ya collect the ferns. Mo Ying, you can get your tools ready— we'll need to carve the gear by hand."
They split up. Tom rounded up the villagers, who grabbed axes and headed into the forest. Xiao Ya led Lin Che and Su Qing to the riverbank, where thick ferns grew in clusters. She knelt down, plucking the ferns' fronds and squeezing a sticky, golden sap into a bowl.
"The sap needs to sit in the sun for an hour," she said, setting the bowl on a rock. "Then we can brush it onto the pine wood. It'll harden overnight."
Su Qing smiled, brushing a strand of hair from Xiao Ya's face. "You're amazing, you know that? The plants talk to you, and you know just how to help."
Xiao Ya blushed, looking down at her hands. "I just… listen. They want to help, too. They don't like seeing the village sad."
By evening, the villagers had cut a large pine tree and hauled it to the mill. Mo Ying and Lin Che set to work, using axes and chisels to carve the gear— their hands rough from the wood, but their movements steady. Su Qing helped Tom stack sacks of wheat, chatting with the villagers about their lives, while Xiao Ya brushed the golden sap onto the pine wood, singing softly to herself.
The village square came alive as night fell. The villagers lit torches, and a woman named Mrs. Hale brought out pots of stew and loaves of bread— the last of their wheat, she said, but they wanted to thank their guests.
They ate together, sitting on benches around the fire. Tom told stories about the mill— how his father had run it for 20 years, how it had fed the village through storms and cold winters. Mo Ying talked about her starship, and how she planned to fix it up and travel the coast. Su Qing read a passage from her Arcane Manual— a story about the Guardians, and how they'd protected the forest long ago.
Xiao Ya fell asleep in Lin Che's lap, her head resting against his chest. He looked down at her, his heart full— she'd gone from a scared, lonely girl in the forest to a brave, kind child who could talk to plants and help save villages. He thought of Su Qing, sitting beside him, her hand in his— how she'd stood by him through every fight, every danger. Of Mo Ying, who'd become like a sister, with her quick smile and steady hands.
This was his family. Not blood, but something stronger— bonds forged through shared battles, shared laughter, shared hope.
The next morning, the pine gear was hard as oak. Mo Ying and the villagers lifted it into place, fitting it between the mill's other gears. Tom pulled a lever, and the mill's sails began to turn— slowly at first, then faster, as the river's current pulled them. The gears creaked to life, and the sound of wheat being ground filled the air.
The villagers cheered, throwing their hats in the air. Mrs. Hale hugged Su Qing, tears in her eyes. "We won't go hungry now," she said. "Thank you. All of you."
They stayed for one more day, helping the villagers grind wheat and repair the mill's roof. Xiao Ya planted ferns around the mill, saying they'd keep the wood from rotting again. Mo Ying taught Tom how to maintain the gears, giving him a small tool kit as a gift.
When they finally left, the villagers walked with them to the edge of the forest. Tom handed Lin Che a sack of wheat flour. "For the road," he said. "And if you ever come back— you're always welcome here."
They waved goodbye, then turned onto the road, the cart rolling behind them. The sun was high, and the pine trees whispered in the wind. Xiao Ya rode in the cart, holding a small pinecone she'd found, while Mo Ying hummed a song.
Lin Che looked at Su Qing, who was smiling at him. "Where to next?" she asked.
He shrugged, grinning. "Wherever the road takes us. Whatever village needs help. Whatever darkness needs to be stopped."
Su Qing squeezed his hand. "Together."
"Together," he agreed.
The Star Marrow on his wrist glowed faintly, a warm reminder of their journey— not just the battles they'd fought, but the lives they'd touched, the friends they'd made, the family they'd found.
The road ahead was long. There would be more villages, more problems, more dangers. But they didn't care. Because they had each other.
And that was enough.
They walked forward, into the forest, the cart's wheels crunching on pine needles. The future was unknown. But for the first time, Lin Che didn't just hope for the best— he knew it.
Because they were together. And together, they could face anything.