The gunshots tore through the frozen silence like lightning.
Zahra hit the floor, dragging Elijah with her behind an overturned table. Madame Lian was already locking the back door. "Go through the rear path!" she barked, grabbing a wooden cane and thrusting it into Bao Yu's hands.
More shots. Shouting in Mandarin. Heavy boots on gravel.
Elijah peered through the cracked shutters. "Two men. Black coats. Not police."
Zahra shoved the documents, the recorder, and the metal box into her bag. Bao Yu was trembling, but he clutched her wrist. "Protect the truth," he rasped.
Madame Lian opened the back panel of the house, revealing a narrow trail hidden by bramble. "Follow the river downhill. There's a tunnel beneath the rice terraces. It leads to the old monastery. You'll be safe there."
"We can't leave you" Zahra began, but Lian cut her off.
"I've lived enough. You haven't. Now go!" They ran.
The forest swallowed them almost instantly. Snow muffled their footsteps, branches clawed at their coats. Zahra's lungs burned, but adrenaline kept her going. Elijah led the way, weaving through the trees with uncanny precision. Behind them: shouts. The crack of breaking twigs. Pursuit.
They reached the river, a narrow, icy stream, and ducked beneath a rocky outcrop. There, hidden behind vines and loose stones, was a narrow opening. The tunnel was dark, damp, and smelled of earth and rust. They squeezed through, stumbling through blackness. Finally, the stone corridor opened into the base of an abandoned Tang-era monastery, built into the cliffside.
Breathless, they collapsed on the floor. Silence again. Safe, for now.
Zahra pulled the recorder from her bag and played the final file.
"Hǔshān was a refuge once. But if you're hearing this, it means they've found you. Don't go back to the city. Not yet. Find the next fragment, hidden beneath the old bell tower. The truth is deeper still." She looked at Elijah. "We're not done."
He gave a tired smile. "Didn't think we were."
Outside, wind howled through the cliffs like a warning. But deep within her, something had awakened memories, instincts, courage not entirely her own. She was beginning to understand: this wasn't just about her father. It was about a secret buried in blood, in memory, in time itself. And she wasn't going to run anymore.