She paid and saw Philip Shaw had already gotten out of the car. He stood by the roadside, looking up the mountain, his face almost blank under the clear sunlight.
Angela Summer walked to his side and glanced at Philip Shaw's clean leather shoes, softly saying, "There was a heavy rain last night, the mountain path is muddy. I'll make a call and have someone pick us up."
Philip Shaw didn't speak; he just turned around, broke off a small sapling about the height of a person, fashioned it into a makeshift cane, and started up the mountain path.
This road used to be a cement road, but after the forest fire and the heavy rain, it no longer looked like one. The whole road was muddy, barely passable for walking.
If you drove from here to the top, it would take just over ten minutes. But if you relied on foot power, it might take an hour or more.
