Morning sun lit the edge of the cave. Dew shimmered on the leaves outside. Liang Yue was already awake, kneeling near the stream. She washed her hands and let the cold water run over her wrists. The light touch of the current made her feel alive.
Behind her, Mo Chen practiced slow movements with a short branch. He stepped forward, turned, and swung. Each strike cut the air more cleanly than the last.
"Good," Liang Yue said without looking back.
He stopped. "You're watching again."
"I said I would help you correct your posture."
He smiled faintly. "Then tell me what's wrong."
"Your balance. You lean too far forward."
He adjusted his footing and tried again. This time the motion looked smooth.
When he stopped to breathe, sweat ran down his neck. "It feels familiar," he said. "Like my body remembers even if my mind doesn't."
"That's memory hidden in the muscles," she said. "Keep training slowly until it becomes natural."
He nodded. "And you? The light?"
"I can feel it more now." She touched her pendant. "It gathers in my chest when I focus. If I hold it too long, I feel weak. If I let it flow out gently, it heals or protects."
He listened quietly. "Then practice control. Don't empty yourself every time."
She looked at him. "You sound like you've trained others before."
He frowned as if trying to remember, then shook his head. "Maybe I just know what makes sense."
They spent the rest of the morning setting up a simple routine. Mo Chen practiced his stances while Liang Yue meditated beside the stream. Each time she prayed, small circles of light shimmered on the water's surface, fading after a few breaths. When she opened her eyes, she felt her pulse steady and the faint burn of poison lessen again.
By noon, the two of them rested under a tree near the cave. Liang Yue handed him a cup of warm water. "You should eat," she said.
He broke one of the dried buns and shared half with her. "We should both eat."
They chewed in silence for a while. Birds called somewhere deeper in the woods. The quiet felt almost peaceful.
Mo Chen broke it first. "Last night, you said the light cleans the poison. Can it help other people too?"
"Yes," she said. "If the wound is not deep. I think the light reacts to intent. When I wish someone well, it listens faster."
He nodded slowly. "Then keep wishing."
She gave him a small smile. "You believe easily."
"I've seen enough to know believing helps," he said simply.
That afternoon, Liang Yue worked on gathering herbs. She crushed a few leaves in a flat stone bowl to test their scent. Mo Chen returned with firewood stacked on his shoulder.
"You found the strong-smelling plant?" he asked.
"Yes. Burn a little when we light the fire. It keeps insects away."
He set the wood down and sat beside her. "You know a lot."
"In my last life, I studied medicine," she said again. "Knowing what heals and what kills is useful anywhere."
He watched her grind the herbs. "You should write them down."
"No paper."
He pointed at a flat rock. "Scratch with charcoal. I'll copy it later."
She laughed softly. "You think ahead now."
"Because you told me to plan."
By sunset, a faint wind carried voices from somewhere down the valley. Liang Yue froze. "Did you hear that?"
Mo Chen stood immediately. They both listened. The sound came again — faint, distant, but clear enough to make out. Men's voices. More than one.
"Hunters?" she whispered.
"Maybe," he said. "Or guards."
They moved quickly, covering the fire with dirt. Mo Chen peered through the trees. Two men were walking along the stream below, both wearing armor with the Liang clan crest. One of them kicked a rock into the water and cursed.
"Nothing but forest. You sure they came this way?"
"The master said so. Even if they died, we bring proof."
"What proof?"
"Bones."
Liang Yue's jaw tightened. She crouched lower. Mo Chen's hand went to his knife.
"They're looking for us," she whispered.
He nodded. "Do we hide or fight?"
"Hide first. If they find the cave, we run."
The men followed the stream for several minutes before turning back toward the road. Only when their voices faded did Liang Yue exhale.
"They'll report no bodies," Mo Chen said.
"Then Father will send more next time," she said.
He looked at her. "We can't stay here long."
She nodded. "Tomorrow, we scout north. Find another place to move."
That night, they sat close to the fire again. The tension from earlier still lingered. Mo Chen stared at the flames. "If more come, I can fight."
"You'll get hurt," she said.
"I'll fight smarter," he replied. "You use the light for defense. I'll handle the rest."
She studied him. His voice was steady now, his eyes clearer than when she first met him. "Your mind really is healing."
"Because you talk to me," he said. "When people talk to me, the noise inside goes quiet."
She didn't answer right away. The simplicity of his words felt heavier than any promise. Finally, she said, "Then keep listening."
"I will," he said.
They fell into silence again, but it was no longer the silence of strangers. It was steady, familiar — the kind that came from trust.
Liang Yue closed her eyes and touched the pendant once more. The warmth answered her, gentle and constant. For the first time, she felt the faint outline of something forming inside her chest — a small sphere of light, pulsing softly with each heartbeat. It wasn't just a glow anymore. It was alive.
When she opened her eyes, the cave seemed brighter.
Mo Chen noticed immediately. "You're glowing."
She looked down at her hands. "It's forming… something like a core."
He smiled. "Then you've started your own cultivation."
"Not qi," she said quietly. "Faith."
He tilted his head. "Then call it what you want. It's yours."
She laughed softly. "I suppose it is."
Outside, a faint rustle echoed again in the trees. Mo Chen's smile vanished. "Something's moving."
Liang Yue stood, holding her pendant ready. The sound grew louder—footsteps, slow but deliberate.
A shadow crossed the cave entrance. Not human this time. A single dark beast, smaller than last night's, sniffed at the ground and growled.
Mo Chen lifted his knife. "Stay back."
"I'll hold the light," she said.
When the creature lunged, he met it halfway. His movements were quick, automatic. One step, a twist, a slash—the knife sank into its shoulder. The beast shrieked and turned to run. Liang Yue raised her pendant, and a flash of light blinded it long enough for Mo Chen to strike again. The body hit the ground with a dull thud.
He wiped the blade on the dirt. "It remembered fear."
She watched him carefully. "That strike… you've done it before."
He nodded slowly. "It felt right. Like breathing."
They buried the creature outside and washed in the stream. The night was quiet again, but the meaning of the fight hung between them.
"You're remembering faster," she said.
"I think the noise in my head is fading," he answered. "The light helped."
She smiled faintly. "Then maybe we're both healing."
Before sleeping, they sat by the dying fire one more time. Liang Yue looked out through the cave door. "Tomorrow we move north. The valley isn't safe."
Mo Chen agreed. "Wherever you go, I'll follow."
She met his gaze. "We move together, we live together."
He repeated quietly, "Together."
The fire cracked. The stars shone above the hills. Two exiles sat in the dark, no longer broken, only waiting for dawn.