"Fuck you!" Feng Yulan suddenly shouted, threw the detonator at the man's feet, and turned around to break the window.
Shards of glass scratched her cheek, causing a burning pain, but she ignored it and grabbed a stone from the ground and threw it at the pine tree - this was what Zhang Shumin taught her, hitting the tree trunk with a stone can create an echo and confuse the enemy.
Explosions sounded almost at the same time, and the roof of the wooden house collapsed.
Feng Yulan rolled on the ground and hid behind a pine tree. She heard a man's curse coming from the ruins: "Bitch! I'm going to kill you!"
Without stopping, she grabbed the medicine box and ran deep into the woods. She heard a gunshot from behind her, and the bullet flew past her ear and hit the tree trunk next to her.
She remembered the map drawn by Zhang Shumin and ran desperately towards the cliff. She didn't stop to catch her breath until she heard the footsteps behind her gradually fading away.
When they returned to the tree hole, Zhang Shumin was leaning against the hole, looking out, her face full of anxiety. Seeing Feng Yulan return safely, a flash of surprise flashed in her eyes, but then she frowned again: "Are you hurt?"
"It's just a minor injury." Feng Yulan touched the blood on her cheek and handed her the medicine box. "You treat the wound first."
Zhang Shumin said nothing, but gently wiped the wound on her face with an alcohol cotton ball. When the cotton ball touched the wound, Feng Yulan couldn't help but shrink, but she heard Zhang Shumin say: "If it hurts, scream."
This was the first time in twenty years that Zhang Shumin had shown such tenderness to her. Feng Yulan's nose suddenly felt sore, and she recalled the scene when her mother applied medicine to her when she was a child.
She did not cry out in pain, but just looked at Zhang Shumin's face quietly, watching the mother-in-law who once frightened her, now bandaging her wound with trembling hands.
"Okay." Zhang Shumin said softly, "Go get some sleep. I'll be watching over you."
Feng Yulan nodded, leaned against Zhang Shumin's arms, and closed her eyes. She could hear the wind outside, the rustling of leaves, and Zhang Shumin's steady heartbeat.
At this moment, she suddenly felt that even if the whole world was hunting them, as long as she had this embrace, she would not be afraid of anything.
Deep in the woods, a nightingale began to sing. The morning light filtered through the cracks in the tree trunks, weaving a golden web around them.
Feng Yulan thought in a half-asleep state, perhaps this was the darkness before dawn, as long as they could hold on, there would always be a day when they would see the sun.
She held Zhang Shumin's hand tightly, feeling the warmth of her palm, and finally fell into a deep sleep. In her dream, they were no longer on the run, but sitting under the eaves of their hometown, basking in the sun, listening to Zhang Shumin tell stories about her childhood.
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