The moon hung high above the road, casting pale silver light across the dirt path. Liang Yue and Mo Chen walked side by side, their steps quiet. The night air was cool, carrying faint traces of smoke from distant farmhouses.
Qinghe Village was already far behind them.
"Are you cold?" Mo Chen asked after a while.
"No," Liang Yue said. "I'm thinking."
"About what?"
"The clans," she said. "If the guards reach the village tomorrow, they'll question everyone. Someone will mention what happened with the well."
He nodded. "The light."
"Yes," she said. "And then they will know for sure that I'm alive."
Mo Chen tightened his grip on the walking stick. "Let them come. We won't be there."
She gave him a small smile. "Confidence suits you."
"I'm not confident," he said. "I'm angry."
She stopped for a moment and looked at him. He rarely showed emotion. Now she could see it — quiet, controlled anger burning under his calm expression.
"Why?" she asked.
"They chased us out," he said. "They hurt you. They hurt me. They want us dead for no reason except that we make them uncomfortable."
She nodded. "Yes."
"I don't understand many things anymore," he continued, "but I understand this: if someone wants to kill us, we should move faster than them."
She couldn't help it — she laughed softly.
"What?" he asked, confused.
"You speak simply," she said. "But you're right."
He thought about it. "Simple is easier to follow."
"Simple is honest," she said.
They continued walking.
They stopped only once, hiding beneath large trees while a passing caravan rolled by. Four men guarded the wagons, speaking loudly about spices and grain. One guard wore a crest she recognized — from another small clan.
"That's not Liang Clan armor," she whispered.
"No," Mo Chen said. "But clans talk to each other."
When the caravan passed, they moved again.
The hours stretched slowly. The dirt road turned into a narrow path as the hills rose. Liang Yue's legs ached. Mo Chen noticed.
"Rest a little," he said.
"We need to move until dawn," she said.
"Rest," he repeated. "A few breaths won't kill us."
She exhaled and leaned against a large stone. He didn't speak again, just watched the road to make sure no one approached.
After a few moments, she said, "Your mind is steadier than before."
"How can you tell?" he asked.
"You observe more," she said. "You speak more clearly. You react faster. The madness… it's fading."
He looked down at his hands. "Maybe the light is cleaning me too."
She touched her pendant. "It cleans what is broken. In the body, in the heart, even in the mind."
He stared at her for a long time. "Then you're helping me more than I help you."
"That is not true," she said firmly. "You fight. You protect. You carry the heavier things. You stay awake when I am too tired. We keep each other alive."
He didn't argue. But he didn't look away either.
When they started walking again, the sky had turned from black to dark blue.
"Dawn will come soon," Liang Yue said. "We should find shelter before anyone else takes this road."
Mo Chen scanned the area. "There," he said, pointing to a cluster of rocks near a small dip in the land. "A hollow. No light will show from the road."
They made their way to the hollow. Liang Yue sat carefully, massaging her knees. Mo Chen looked around once, twice, then gathered loose branches and stones to hide the entrance.
While he worked, she prepared water and a few berries. She tore one of the buns from Boss Liu in half and handed him a piece.
"Eat."
He took it without protest.
After a while, he said, "Liang Yue."
"Yes?"
"When the child woke up yesterday… you looked happy."
"I was," she said. "He wasn't guilty of anything. He just drank from the wrong well."
Mo Chen looked thoughtful. "You help people who don't help you."
"Yes," she said. "That is who I choose to be. Not who I was told to be."
He nodded slowly. "Then I'll choose too."
"Choose what?"
"To protect the person I believe in," he said. "That is also a choice."
She froze for a moment, staring at him. His words were simple. But the meaning behind them was not.
"Mo Chen…"
He didn't wait for her to answer. "Eat before you get weak," he said quietly. "Then sleep. I'll watch."
She didn't argue.
But as she closed her eyes, the warmth in her chest was not from the pendant.
When the sun finally rose, they were hidden deep in the hollow. The air was warm. Birds chirped above them. Liang Yue woke to the sound of something rustling nearby.
She sat up quickly. "Mo Chen?"
He stood near the entrance, holding his knife low. His eyes were sharp, focused.
"Something's out there," he said.
She crawled beside him and peered through the gap in the stones.
A man was walking slowly down the road, wearing dark green armor. Not Liang Clan robes — but close enough. His steps were light, controlled. His eyes scanned the ground.
A tracker.
He crouched near a patch of dirt and brushed it with his fingers. He looked at the faint footprint.
"Someone passed here last night," he muttered.
He stood and began to follow their trail.
Liang Yue's heart tightened. "We have to move. Now."
Mo Chen nodded once. "I'll distract him."
"No," she said at once. "You can't let him see you."
"I won't," he said calmly. "He's following prints. I'll hide ours."
He knelt and brushed their footprints with dry leaves until they were almost invisible. Then he took a stick and drew random lines across the dirt.
"Come," he whispered.
They climbed deeper into the hollow. Mo Chen motioned for her to stay behind a large stone. He positioned himself near the entrance, ready to move silently if needed.
The tracker approached their location.
He paused.
He looked at the rocks.
Mo Chen held his breath.
Liang Yue pressed her fingers to her pendant.
The man stepped closer.
Then—
A rustle came from behind him. A fox jumped from the bushes and ran across the road.
The tracker turned his head. "Tch. Useless."
He walked on, following the fox's disturbance instead of the faint prints.
Only when his figure disappeared completely did Liang Yue release the breath she'd been holding.
"That was close," she whispered.
Mo Chen stepped back to her. "Too close."
"We need to leave," she said. "Tonight. Even farther north."
"Yes," he said. "But rest first. You're shaking."
She looked down at her hands. She was shaking — not from fear, but from the pressure of holding the light ready to protect them.
She let her hands fall. "I'm fine."
"No," he said. "You're tired. Lie down."
She wanted to argue, but her head throbbed. She lowered herself onto the blanket. He sat near her, back against the stone, knife ready.
"Wake me if anything moves," she said softly.
"I will."
She closed her eyes.
Minutes passed. The fear faded. Then she felt his hand — rough, warm — lightly adjust the cloth covering her burned cheek.
She didn't open her eyes, but she heard him whisper:
"You're not something to throw away."
Then he returned to his guard's posture.
The hollow was quiet again.
For now.
End of Chapter 7 — Shadows on the Road