Getting out through the window presented a bit of a challenge, given its location on the second story. Glancing outside, Zhou spotted the stout pine that grew close to the building, but he wasn't sure if he could make it to the closest branch from the window, or if it would even take his weight.
Tightly knotting together the sheets from the bed multiple times, he manifested what he judged to be a sufficiently sturdy rope. Then, he tied an end to the bedpost and released the other from the window. Its length reached the branch he was aiming for.
After carefully climbing onto the windowsill, he held his breath and tugged on the makeshift rope, hard. It held. Slowly, he lowered himself, gripping the rope as he pushed his feet against the outer wall of the building, climbing down step by step.
After a few agonizing minutes, he was within reach of the branch. Cautiously, he extended a leg downward until it touched the bough. He put a little weight on it, then a bit more. Then the other foot.
Crack. The end of the wood snapped, and he flailed, trying to regain his balance. He hadn't let go of the rope yet, though, which was all that kept him from falling. While he shook with fearful energy, he forced himself to focus, and crept along the branch until he reached the trunk. Only then did he release the rope, switching his hold to the sturdy trunk of the tree instead.
His fingers cramped from how tightly he had been clutching at the rope, terrified of letting go. But he would have to deal with that later. First, there were the murmurings from the room next to the infirmary. He was far away, but with some difficulty, was able to make out the words: someone had heard the branch snap. Shaken, he crept around to the branch on the other side of the trunk, so that anyone looking out the window wouldn't see him, and stilled.
The room was one of the dormitories for the children, and there were strict rules after lights out: the inhabitants couldn't leave the room, or turn on any sort of devices — so their vision was severely limited.
He heard someone approach the window. "I don't see anything."
"It might've just been an animal. Come on, go back to bed. We'll have to be up early tomorrow."
Heaving a slow breath, Zhou waited a few moments more before thinking it safe enough to keep moving. He wasn't the most experienced tree climber, but the pine had generous branches that, if he kept close to the trunk, were durable enough to allow him to make his way down without any other issues. He attempted to do so as quietly as he could, wincing whenever the leaves rustled a bit heavily. But no more noises came from the dormitory, as he took his first step on the ground.
On the first floor, all the lights were off. He hoped, desperately, that it also signaled the lack of occupants there. In any case, slowly, he crept his way off of the premises of the orphanage.
He was out. And this time, he knew, he'd be careful. And he'd only trust himself.