Chapter 467: Eternity 28.

Morning Departure

Bai woke before the alarm she had set. For several seconds, she lay

still and listened to the apartment. The backup power unit hummed in its

usual steady way. A faint sound came from the kitchen, probably the

pipes settling after the night’s temperature change. Somewhere beyond

the closed door, a neighbor moved across the corridor. There were no

dragging feet, no groans, and no sudden impacts against the outer doors.

Building 9 was quiet again, but this time the quiet had a different

feeling. They were about to leave it behind.

Bai dressed, checked the small bag she would keep with her, and walked

through the apartment once more. She verified the locks, checked the

water system’s indicators, and made sure the emergency power unit was

stable. The maintenance notes were placed where Mother Yan could reach

them if the group returned separately or if a problem arose before they

got back. Bai had written clear instructions about what to do if the

water filter failed, where the spare seals were stored, and which parts

of the apartment should be shut off if an electrical issue developed. It

was not likely that anyone would need the information immediately, but

she had learned not to trust luck when a simple note could help.

Yan woke shortly afterward and found Bai checking the front door latch.

She leaned against the kitchen entrance and watched her for a few

seconds.

"You know the door will still be here when we return, right?"

Bai kept her attention on the latch. "I’m checking it."

"You checked it last night."

"That was last night."

"And the night before."

Bai finally turned around. "Are you going to help, or are you going to

keep listing the times I’ve checked a door?"

Yan walked over and examined the lock with exaggerated care. "It looks

fine to me."

"You didn’t test the second latch."

Yan tested it. "Now it looks fine."

Bai waited. Yan tried the handle, checked the bolt, and gave a solemn

nod. "It will hold."

"Good."

Yan stepped closer and straightened the cuff of Bai’s sleeve. "And you

will try to remember that we cannot fix every possible problem before we

leave."

Bai looked at her hand, then up to her face. "I’ll try."

Yan seemed surprised by the easy answer. Bai usually defended her

preparations until she had reached the end of every argument. The fact

that she accepted Yan’s reminder without making a joke meant she was

aware of the same thing. There was a point where preparation became

delay, and no amount of checking the apartment would make the road safe.

They woke Mother Yan next. Lili was already awake, dressed, and waiting

beside her bag. She had apparently been afraid that if she went back to

sleep, everyone might leave without her. Her toy toolbox was held in

both hands, and her small storybook had been tucked into an outside

pocket where she could reach it easily.

"I packed everything," she announced.

Bai crouched in front of her and checked the bag. "You did. You even

remembered your water bottle."

"Yan-jiejie reminded me."

"Then you both did a good job."

Lili looked at Bai with a serious expression. "I will listen. I won’t

open the door if you don’t say the signal, and I won’t go anywhere by

myself."

Bai felt a quiet tenderness that made her throat tighten for a moment.

She put a hand on Lili’s shoulder. "Good. You don’t need to be brave by

yourself. If you get frightened, tell us. If you don’t know what to do,

stop and listen. We’ll make sure you understand before anything

happens."

Lili nodded, then unexpectedly wrapped her arms around Bai’s neck. Bai

held her gently and allowed the child to stay there for a few seconds.

She did not make a promise that nothing bad would happen, because she

could not guarantee it. Instead, she kissed the top of Lili’s head and

told her they would stay together as much as possible.

Yan watched them with a small smile. When Lili finally stepped back, Yan

took the child’s hand and carried her bag toward the door. Bai stood,

picked up the remaining packs, and glanced around the apartment one last

time. The plants sat beside the window, their leaves turned toward the

pale light. The kitchen was clean, the table had been cleared, and the

shelves held the supplies they had worked so hard to organize. It was

strange how much effort it took to make a place feel ordinary, and how

quickly a single decision could turn that ordinary place into something

one had to leave behind.

Mother Yan paused at the doorway. Her gaze traveled around the living

room and stopped briefly on the chair where she had sat during Aunt

Lan’s call. She did not say anything, but Yan moved beside her and took

her hand.

"We’ll find her," Yan said quietly.

Mother Yan squeezed her fingers. "I hope so."

Bai waited without rushing them. She knew that leaving a home was not

only a matter of packing bags and locking doors. Sometimes people needed

a moment to look at the room they were leaving, to remember what it had

meant to them, and to prepare themselves for the fact that they might

not see it again for a while. Bai had no patience for meaningless delay,

but this was not meaningless.

When Mother Yan was ready, Bai locked the apartment. She checked the

handle one final time, then handed the spare key to Yan, who tucked it

into a secure pocket. The key could be useless if the building became

unsafe, but they were taking it anyway. It was a small connection to the

place they intended to return to.

They started down the stairwell rather than using the elevator. Bai

wanted to hear how the building sounded as they passed through it, and

she wanted to be certain that the reinforced doors had not shifted

overnight. The residents they met on the way offered quiet goodbyes.

TO BE CONTINUED.