Under the old locust tree at the village entrance, several elderly people were sitting and enjoying the cool shade. Upon seeing these weary strangers, they immediately surrounded them warmly. "You've come from the mountains, haven't you?" an old man with a cane asked with a smile. "It rained for several days in a row, and the fog in the mountains was thick; it's easy to get lost."

Old Zheng laughed heartily, "That's right, I almost got eaten by mosquitoes in there." He took the enamel cup handed to him by an older woman, took a big gulp of cold tea, and the tea flowed down the corner of his mouth, leaving a clean streak on his muddy chin.

Sitting in the shade of a locust tree, Lin Xia gazed at the distant, verdant mountains and the gently flowing river, and suddenly felt that this time of getting lost was a strange metaphor. In the concrete jungle of the city, we rely on GPS and navigation, thinking we have mastered all directions, yet we often lose our inner compass in the daily repetition. But when truly in the wilderness, without the aid of all modern tools, we can find our way out of the maze by relying on the most primal senses and the simplest cooperation.

As the sun gradually set, it indeed dyed the entire mountain forest amber. Lin Xia took out her sketchbook. This time, she didn't draw the delicate veins of the leaves, but instead used bold strokes to outline the figures by the campfire, the steel cables on the suspension bridge, and the smiling faces under the old locust tree at the village entrance. She knew that some scenery could only be seen more clearly after getting lost; some people could only be truly understood after sharing hardships.

On the way back, Chen Mo's phone finally got a signal. A series of message notifications rang out, mostly inquiries from club members and family. When Zhou Ziqi called her mother back, her voice was still choked with tears, but filled with the joy of surviving a close call. Old Zheng, meanwhile, was grinning foolishly at his phone screen, probably looking at the photos his daughter had sent.

Lin Xia leaned against the car window, watching the distant green mountains, her mind clear. She knew that this experience of being lost in the dense forest would be like a seed, taking root and sprouting in her heart. In the future, when she encountered life's fog again, she might remember that warm campfire, the resolute eyes of her companions, and then take a deep breath, telling herself: Don't be afraid, calm down, and you will always find your way out of the maze. And the courage and trust she learned in getting lost would ultimately become the light illuminating her path.