Zhou Ziqi's voice trembled with tears: "Then...what do we do? It's getting dark..." Just as she finished speaking, a mountain gust of wind suddenly swept through the forest, swirling up fallen leaves with a mournful sound. Lin Xia shivered, suddenly feeling that the surrounding trees had become unfamiliar. The pine trees, which she had once drawn as adorable figures, now cast distorted shadows in the dimming light, like countless silent, watching eyes.

"What are you crying about!" Old Zheng suddenly raised his voice, but his tone was a little weak. "Back when I was exploring the Qinling Mountains, there were far more dangerous places than this. So what if I got lost? I could find a water source and get out." As he spoke, he rummaged through his backpack and pulled out an aluminum water bottle, tilted his head back and took a big gulp. The sound of his Adam's apple bobbing was particularly clear in the silence.

Chen Mo didn't speak, but squatted down to carefully examine the soil. "There are fresh footprints here," he pointed to a few blurry indentations, "and the size doesn't look like anyone from our group." Zhou Ziqi immediately leaned over: "Are they other hikers? Let's follow the footprints!"

“Not necessarily.” Chen Mo shook his head, brushing aside the fallen leaves beside the footprints with his trekking pole. “These footprints are of varying depths and their directions are chaotic, like they’re going around in circles.” His words were like a bucket of cold water, instantly cooling the hope that had just been ignited. Lin Xia looked at the crooked footprints and suddenly remembered a fairy tale she had read as a child, about forest spirits deliberately leaving wrong marks to lure lost people deeper and deeper into the woods.

The sky darkened visibly. A damp mist began to rise from the woods, reducing visibility to less than five meters. Zhou Ziqi gripped Lin Xia's arm tightly, her fingertips icy cold. Old Zheng took out his headlamp and put it on; the pale beam pierced the mist, but could only illuminate a few wet tree trunks ahead, adding to the eeriness of the scene.

"Let's find a place to camp first." Chen Mo's voice sounded somewhat faint in the fog. "Conserve your energy, we'll find our way again at daybreak." His tone carried an undeniable calmness, as if the person who had just been frowning at the compass wasn't him at all. Lin Xia watched him skillfully unload his backpack and take out the tent accessories, and suddenly felt that this man, who usually loved to joke, possessed a reassuring strength in his back at this moment.

III. Calmness: When Fear Meets the Campfire

Setting up the tent was more difficult than expected. The damp soil made it hard to secure the tent pegs, and just as Zhou Ziqi put up the tent frame, a gust of wind blew the entire frame to one side. Old Zheng cursed and simply knelt on the ground, using his body to hold down the corner of the tent, sweat dripping from his forehead onto the moldy fallen leaves. Lin Xia wanted to help, but Chen Mo pressed down on her shoulder: "Go and gather some dry firewood; we need a fire."

Finding firewood became a race against the twilight. Lin Xia turned on her phone's flashlight, the beam weak and flickering in the dense forest. She specifically chose branches high off the ground, the crisp sound of them snapping with her Swiss Army knife a sign of dryness. The fog thickened, the water droplets clinging to her eyelashes blurring her vision. Several times she tripped over tree roots, her knees hitting the rocks, tears welling in her eyes from the pain.

"Don't go too far!" Chen Mo's voice came from the fog, carrying a hint of barely perceptible anxiety. Lin Xia responded, but suddenly froze as she turned around—the crooked pine tree in front of her had a heart-shaped scar on its trunk; she was certain she had passed by here just half an hour ago. Fear instantly gripped her heart like cold vines, and she couldn't help but cry out, "Chen Mo! I... I think I've circled back again!"

Before she finished speaking, a beam of headlamp pierced through the fog and shone down. Chen Mo quickly walked to her side and took the branch from her arms: "It's okay, all the trees in this forest look pretty much the same." His palms were warm; you could feel the warmth even through his down jacket. "Follow me, don't overthink things."

The moment the campfire blazed, it felt as if something melted in the air. Dry pine branches crackled, sparks flew and fell, casting flickering light and shadow on everyone's faces. Zhou Ziqi warmed her hands by the fire, the water droplets on her eyelashes drying and leaving faint salt stains. Old Zheng pulled half a bag of beef jerky from his backpack, broke off a few pieces, and handed them to Lin Xia: "Get some energy, so you'll have the strength to walk tomorrow."

“I’m sorry,” Zhou Ziqi suddenly whispered, “I shouldn’t have cried just now.” She stared at the leaping flames, her eyes somewhat unfocused. “I just suddenly thought of my mom. If she knew I was lost in these mountains, she would be so worried.”

Old Zheng sighed and added a thick piece of firewood to the fire: "When my daughter was about your age, she also loved to run into the mountains. Once she got lost in Zhangjiajie. I waited for her at the foot of the mountain all night, and the next day she came back by herself with a herb gatherer, with a wild kiwi in her pocket." When he laughed, the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes were covered with sparks.

Chen Mo didn't speak, but focused intently on adjusting the shape of the campfire. The firelight reflected on his face, illuminating the new stubble on his chin. Lin Xia suddenly remembered what he had said before they set off: "Modern people rely too much on GPS, and have forgotten how to communicate with nature." At the time, she thought it was pretentious, but now, looking at the leaping flames, she suddenly understood that sometimes, losing one's coordinates can help one rediscover a more primal sense of awareness.

"Do you know how to navigate in the forest?" Old Zheng suddenly spoke up, as if he had read Lin Xia's mind. "Look at the bark. The bark on the south side is smoother, and the bark on the north side is rougher. Also, moss always grows on the shaded side." He pointed to a fir tree not far away, and sure enough, the north side of the trunk was covered with a thick layer of green moss, like a velvet coat.

Chen Mo continued, "There's also a stream. Generally, streams flow downhill and eventually join a larger river. Tomorrow we'll follow the valley downstream; we'll eventually find a populated area." He took out a waterproof map from his backpack and, by the light of the fire, drew a dotted line in red on a blank area. "We're roughly here now. Based on the sun's position, the downstream section of the valley should be in this direction."

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