We couldn't take that risk. Only one option remained. We had to get a lantern, and we couldn't disturb the hermit in the forest. We had to time our return trip carefully, reaching camp before anyone noticed we were missing. Counting from the evening, it should be close to eight o'clock now, the time Will and I usually spend our after-dinner leisure time. If all goes well, I'll get a good night's sleep tonight, and wake up tomorrow morning without worrying about anything. I silently recalled the immersion I'd felt while reading, immersing myself in historical events, and my grandfather's figure came to mind. My thoughts flowed naturally, like springtime melting snow. Now that we've decided on a direction, we must persevere, no matter what we do.
I was so nervous that a light sweat formed under my armpits. Having decided on a course of action, I felt much better. Ahead, there was the faint sound of rushing water. I saw the girl slow down, extending her lantern forward like a burrowing animal, as if to determine the boundary between land and water. The light illuminated the neatly arranged outlines of wooden stakes and the shimmering, flowing water. It must be a small, unassuming stream, likely flowing toward the valley beneath the ancient bridge. A simple wooden bridge also spanned this stream, perhaps built by the girl's guardian. To the left of the bridge, a broken tree trunk lay quietly across the stream. Since such a waterway likely didn't need to worry about flooding, the trunk was left lying there, giving it a surprisingly large appearance compared to the bridge. The girl, lantern in hand, stepped onto the bridge. Her petite figure, walking beside the tree trunk, felt like a bird perched beside a rhinoceros. The stream was narrow, and the girl soon stepped onto dry land again. Will and I quickly followed, using branches to test the location of the wooden bridge. We put one hand on the wooden stake before we dared to step out.
The road then widened again, a rather impressive width, with clear signs of human maintenance. I knew what this meant. The adult beasts' lairs were within easy reach, their cubs meticulously prepared for their safety. The trees were also declining, and all around, pristine forest was being transformed into human habitat.
Finally, another light appeared before my eyes. It was incredibly bright, filling the entire dark block. It streamed out from the rectangular window, echoing distantly with the light in the girl's hand. My frayed nerves relaxed instantly, and I blinked rapidly. My lungs eagerly blew air out of me. It was more like a subtle pressure emanating from my entire body, and sweat already covered my forehead. I couldn't make out Will's expression in the darkness, but he was probably even more distressed than I was. Suddenly, he started panting; it seemed he'd been struggling to hold it in all the way.
Before us lay a wide open space, with a few tree stumps scattered along the edge. In the center, besides a two-story wooden building, there was a strange shed. Many wooden sticks, shaved perfectly smooth, were neatly arranged into vertical frames, covered with a layer of translucent plastic film. Beneath the film were four rows of raised, semicircular mounds of earth, each separated by a half-meter-wide aisle. Clusters of domes sprouted from the mounds, what looked like mushrooms. The girl saw the wooden house and ran over with light, nimble steps, like a fledgling. Will and I hid at the edge of the house's light, using the thick trunk of a large tree for shelter, carefully observing the house.
Will wanted to rush in immediately, but my presence held him back. The light from the room barely illuminated his face, and I turned to see it was greasy and sweaty, his mouth opening and closing like a fish starved of oxygen. But beyond his thirst for oxygen, he had a more important need, one that, once expressed, would become clear, requiring a decision and inevitably the judgment of others. His expression betrayed this.
I measured my voice for a moment before speaking. Will's anxiety had fermented like ripe wheat during this time, radiating a rich, energetic heat from head to toe.
"See the light?" I said. "There's someone in the house. We can't go through."
Will took a deep breath and said, "Then how do we get back?"
I was a little surprised that he had even thought of this. "Wait a moment. Once I'm sure it's safe, go steal a lamp."
"I'll be discovered!" he cried softly. "You should go."
He was right. It suddenly dawned on me that he couldn't even find a couple of bugs under the porch. I'd rather have him thieves than just walk up to the cabin door, knock, and yell, "Good sir, we're the bad guys who stalked your child. We're going home now. Could you lend us a light?"
Things were finally different. This time I was on my own, carrying out my own plans, with no one to rely on. Will could only try his best to ensure he didn't hold me back, and I hoped he could at least do that.
The opportunity arrived sooner than I expected. I spotted a figure sitting in a wheelchair by the second-floor window of the cabin. His features were unclear, but I could tell he was an elderly man. He seemed to have his eyes closed, and even when the girl entered, he didn't open them, merely tilting his head slightly. This was enough to prove he wasn't asleep. If he had no desire to admire the scenery outside, why was he sitting by the window? His expression, as if gazing at the magnificent scenery, left a small mystery in my mind. But now wasn't the time to dwell on that.
From that window, I watched the girl ascend the second floor and enter the old man's room. She chatted cordially with him for a moment, then left the room and went to the other side of the second floor. There were no stairs there, indicating she was still there. This was the perfect opportunity. A light flickered on in another window, and the girl turned on the faucet, picked up a cup, and brushed her teeth. There was no time to waste; every second counted.
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