The morning air was crisp, carrying the scent of pine and wet earth from the slopes of the Cangyun Mountains. Li Rong had risen early, as was his habit, tending the small vegetable plot beside the hut and checking the water from the nearby stream. Wen remained weak, resting on the straw mats, but his eyes were already alert, tracking Li Rong's movements with quiet calculation.
"Today, you will accompany me," Wen said finally, his voice low but firm, "though carefully." Li Rong paused, noting the subtle tremor in his hands — a reminder that his injuries were far from healed.
Even so, observation and intelligence can protect him. Li Rong nodded, gathering a small satchel of herbs, a bundle of straw for bandaging, and a few simple provisions. He adjusted his long sleeves to protect his arms from the chill, careful not to startle Wen.
The path through the mountain pass was narrow, lined with loose stones and hidden depressions. Mist curled along the edges, softening shadows but also hiding small hazards. Wen moved slowly, leaning lightly on Li Rong's arm at times. Each step was deliberate, requiring careful attention. Li Rong noticed the faint tremor in his grip, the subtle stiffness in his shoulders. Even in weakness, his body remembers battles fought. I must protect him while allowing him autonomy.
A sudden rustle of leaves made Li Rong pause. A wild goat darted across the path, startled, its hooves dislodging small rocks. Wen instinctively leaned to steady himself, wincing at the sharp pain in his leg. Li Rong was immediately at his side, adjusting his hold, lowering his center of gravity to prevent a fall. Responsibility is not just care, but anticipation.
"Step lightly," Li Rong whispered, guiding Wen past a loose patch of soil. "The edge here is unstable." Wen's eyes, sharp despite his fatigue, met Li Rong's briefly. He notices everything — careful, deliberate, protective. Trust deepened in silence.
They paused at a small clearing where wild herbs grew thick among the rocks. Li Rong knelt, inspecting nettle, wild garlic, and a few unknown shoots. If we can identify these correctly, they will aid recovery and sustenance. He began collecting carefully, murmuring the properties under his breath, his modern knowledge of herbal uses quietly integrated into the world around him. Wen watched, intrigued. Practical, resourceful, and observant. Not just intelligence, but foresight.
From the ridge, faint voices drifted — villagers noticing movement in the mountain pass. "The outcast Ger is with that stranger again… they dare move freely?" whispers carried, mingled with suspicion and fear. Li Rong ignored them, balancing caution with responsibility. Every action was measured to prevent unnecessary attention while keeping Wen safe.
As the sun climbed higher, shadows shifted and a sudden drop of loose rock sent a small avalanche toward the clearing. Li Rong's reflexes were instantaneous. He pulled Wen down, shielding him with his body as stones clattered past. Wen's breath hitched, but Li Rong's hands stayed firm, steadying him.
"You must learn to trust observation," Li Rong said softly once the danger passed, adjusting Wen's blanket and tending minor scrapes from the small debris. "Even a strong body cannot survive carelessness. Awareness, anticipation, and calm are stronger than brute force."
Wen allowed a faint smile, the first visible sign of ease since his injury. He protects without arrogance. He teaches without condescension. Even in weakness, I can learn from him.
The afternoon light painted the mountains gold as they returned to the hut, the collected herbs and provisions safe in Li Rong's satchel. Every step, every gesture, every small risk they had navigated together had reinforced mutual reliance. Social norms and whispers remained, but inside the quiet space of care and observation, trust had grown deeper, more deliberate.
By evening, Wen rested again, scarred arms gently supported by Li Rong's hands. Li Rong smoothed the straw beneath him, replenished water, and arranged herbs for recovery. The mountain shadows lengthened, and both men sat in quiet acknowledgment: survival was intertwined with intelligence, patience, and empathy. And in those shared silences, the beginnings of a bond — careful, profound, and unspoken — had taken root.