Oracle's Perch – Nightfall
The mountain breathed. Wind moved through the pines in long, slow sighs, carrying the scent of resin and distant snow. Their base camp clung to a wide shelf of rock halfway up the peak, ringed by jagged stone teeth that caught the last of the sunset and bled it crimson across the sky. Below, the world fell away into clouds and darkness; above, the stars burned so close they seemed sharp enough to cut.
Mei Zhu spun in a slow circle, arms wide and cheeks flushed from the climb. "I take back every complaint. This place is insane. The air tastes like ice water and freedom."
Yu Xiao hammered the last tent peg into the earth, muscles aching pleasantly. "You like it?"
"Love it. Feels like we stole the roof of the world."
"We'll be stealing it for weeks," Yu Xiao said, straightening. "Zhiyu's shoot schedule is brutal."
Mei Zhu dropped cross-legged beside the half-raised tent. "Need a hand, boss?"
"If you help, we finish before the stars come out."
Mei Zhu crawled over, knees staining with red dirt. "Zhiyu bunking with us?"
Yu Xiao nodded at the second, smaller tent the crew had set up twenty meters away. "That one's for equipment. This is ours. Three sleeping bags, plenty of room. He'll behave."
Mei Zhu gave her the full puppy-eye treatment. "Promise he won't snore?"
Yu Xiao flicked her forehead. "I'll gag him if he does. Happy?"
Mei Zhu beamed. "I'll cook tonight. Real food. None of that instant-noodle tragedy."
Yu Xiao's rare smile escaped (small, crooked, genuine). "Deal. Now hand me that pole before you freeze."
They worked in companionable silence until the tent rose proud against the deepening sky, canvas glowing amber from the lantern inside.
8:00 p.m. – The Bonfire
Flames cracked and popped, throwing sparks into a velvet sky thick with stars, as if dusted with diamonds. The fire's heat pushed back the mountain chill, painting their faces in gold and shadow.
Yu Xiao sat on a weathered log, boots stretched toward the flames, a bowl of steaming mapo tofu balanced on her knee. The silence was perfect—wind in the pines, the occasional snap of burning cedar, nothing else. Until Zhiyu's voice broke it.
"Senior Yu!" He jogged up, cheeks red from the cold, carrying two bowls like offerings. "Dinner. I helped."
She accepted the bowl with a quiet "Thank you," the steam curling between them like incense.
Mei Zhu arrived triumphant, balancing a battered tray loaded with kung pao chicken, garlic greens, and sticky rice fragrant from the portable stove. "Feast, peasants!"
They ate like wolves. The food was simple but hot, spiced just right, and for a few minutes the only sounds were chopsticks and satisfied sighs.
Cheng Zhiyu, still flushed from the climb, wiped chili oil from his lip and cleared his throat.
"We're going to run out of firewood by tomorrow night," he said with practical worry. "There's a whole forest twenty meters that way. Dry branches everywhere. We just walk in, grab an armful, walk out. Ten minutes, tops."
Mei Zhu, cross-legged on a folded blanket, snorted so hard she nearly choked on rice.
"Ten minutes? In that forest?" She jerked her chin at the wall of black pines beyond the firelight. "Have you seen those trees? They don't even sway like normal trees. And the ground is carpeted with needles so thick you can't hear your own footsteps. It's creepy."
Cheng Zhiyu rolled his eyes. "It's firewood, Senior Mei, not a haunted house."
"Tell that to the hikers who vanished in 2019. Or the drone that flew in last year and never came out." She dropped her voice theatrically. "They found the memory card three months later. Only static—and someone breathing."
Zhiyu laughed, but it was thin. "That's just an urban legend."
"Is it?" Zhu leaned forward, firelight dancing in her eyes. "The villagers won't even say the mountain's name after sunset. They call it the place that chooses."
Yu Xiao kept eating, expression unreadable, but her chopsticks had slowed.
Cheng Zhiyu turned to her for backup. "Senior Yu, tell her we're not going to get eaten by trees."
Yu Xiao took a deliberate bite, chewed, swallowed. "We need firewood."
Mei Zhu threw up her hands. "See? Even she agrees it's dangerous!"
"I didn't say dangerous," Yu Xiao replied calmly. "I said we need it. The supplier truck can't make the last four kilometers. We burn what we brought tonight, we freeze tomorrow."
Cheng Zhiyu nodded. "Exactly. Morning shoot ends at eleven. We go in at noon, follow the ridgeline trail, stay in sunlight, back before two. Easy."
Mei Zhu hugged her knees. "Easy until the mist rolls in and the trail vanishes. I read the hiking forums—people's GPS goes haywire at the tree line. Compasses spin like roulette wheels."
Cheng Zhiyu waved a hand. "Old tech. We have phones."
"Phones with zero signal," Zhu shot back. "I checked both times we arrived. Not even emergency bars."
Yu Xiao set her empty bowl down with a quiet clack. The sound cut through the argument like a blade. Both heads swiveled to her.
She looked at Zhiyu, then at Zhu, firelight flickering over her face. "If you two don't stop, you're both sleeping outside tonight. I'm not joking."
Instant silence, broken only by the crackle of burning pine.
Mei Zhu's voice, small now: "I'm not trying to be difficult. I just… don't want anyone to disappear."
Cheng Zhiyu rubbed the back of his neck, contrite. "I didn't mean to push. I just hate wasting money when the solution is right there."
Yu Xiao exhaled through her nose, the sound almost lost in the fire. "After the first shoot tomorrow, Zhiyu and I will go in together. We stay on the sunlight path. Thirty minutes max, arms full, straight back. Zhu, you stay here with the walkie. If we're not out in forty-five, you radio the crew and send the whole team."
Mei Zhu opened her mouth to protest, but one look at Yu Xiao's face and she closed it again.
Cheng Zhiyu tried a hopeful smile. "Deal?"
Mei Zhu muttered something that sounded a lot like "idiots," but nodded.
Yu Xiao picked up her bowl again; the matter settled. "Eat. You'll need the energy to yell at me tomorrow when I drag back half a tree."
Mei Zhu let out a reluctant laugh. Zhiyu hid his grin behind another bite of chicken.
The fire settled lower, content.
For a few heartbeats, only the wind moved through the pines—slow, patient, listening.
Yu Xiao paused mid-bite and looked at Zhu.
"You aren't supposed to make things difficult. No one goes into the woods tomorrow. That's an order." Then she stood and walked away.
Cheng Zhiyu flicked Zhu's forehead. "Nice going."
Mei Zhu kicked at the dirt, cheeks burning hotter than the flames. "I'm scared, okay? This place feels… wrong."
Cheng Zhiyu glanced at the forest—black trunks, no end. "Senior Xiao wouldn't bring us somewhere truly dangerous."
Mei Zhu hugged her knees. "That's the problem. She doesn't think anything is dangerous anymore." She closed her eyes, took a shaky breath. "I just feel uncomfortable right now."
Cheng Zhiyu said nothing, quietly gathering up the remaining dishes.
Mei Zhu noticed, then gasped. "She didn't eat much." She looked toward the tent.
Cheng Zhiyu stood up, arms full. "We'll save the rest for later—maybe Senior Yu will eat again."
Mei Zhu nodded. "Fine. I'm going to check on her." She pushed to her feet and slipped away.
Inside the tent – later
Yellow lantern light painted the canvas walls the color of old parchment. Yu Xiao lay on her sleeping bag, a worn paperback propped on her chest, pages fluttering with each gust of wind.
Mei Zhu slipped in quietly and knelt beside her. "Hey."
Yu Xiao didn't look up.
"Are you mad at me?" Zhu whispered, puppy eyes in full force.
"No."
Mei Zhu tugged the hem of Yu Xiao's shirt. "Liar. Talk to me."
Yu Xiao closed her book with a soft snap and sat up. "You were scared. You lashed out. It's fine."
"It's not fine. I cooked all that food, and you barely ate." Zhu's voice wobbled. "I hurt you."
Yu Xiao's fingers found Zhu's wrist, thumb brushing the frantic pulse. "I'm not hurt. I'm… careful. There's a difference."
Mei Zhu crawled closer, resting her forehead on Yu Xiao's shoulder. "I'm sorry. I just—this mountain makes my skin crawl."
Yu Xiao exhaled, long and slow. The tension in her shoulders eased. "I know. I feel it too. But running won't make it quieter."
Mei Zhu peeked up. "You feel it?"
"Like something watching from the trees. Old. Patient." Yu Xiao's voice dropped. "But I'm not afraid of old things anymore."
Mei Zhu swallowed. "That's what scares me."
Silence stretched—warm, heavy, honest.
Eventually Zhu flopped down, claiming her sleeping bag. "Move over. I'm not sleeping beside the rookie. He kicks."
Yu Xiao's laugh was soft, surprised out of her. "Thought you'd never ask."
Cheng Zhiyu poked his head in minutes later, hair tousled, cheeks pink from the cold. "Everyone decent?"
Mei Zhu threw a sock at him. "We're clothed, idiot. Get in before the mountain eats you."
He scrambled in, zipping the flap shut. Three sleeping bags in a row, lantern low, the wind prowling around the tent like a curious beast.
Yu Xiao stared at the canvas ceiling, listening as Zhu's breathing evened out, as Zhiyu's quiet shuffling faded.
Tonight, for the first time in years, she was not alone when darkness came.