Jianyu blinked slowly, the remnants of sleep lingering at the edge of his thoughts before gradually fading away. The room where they usually slept felt empty—too quiet for a space often filled with the sounds of snores or the steady rhythm of breathing.
He propped himself up, his gaze sweeping the surroundings as his brows knit together. "Zhenfeng?" he murmured, his voice raspy from just waking. But no answer came.
Curiosity, tinged with a growing sense of unease, pushed him to step out of the room.
The air in the corridor felt warmer than usual, and the flickering glow of a bonfire reflecting off the stone walls caught his attention. When Jianyu reached the large hall where the survivors usually gathered and rest, the atmosphere instantly felt more alive.