The moment I heard the old man's voice, my heart gave a sharp jolt. Up until now, the quest for the Suoluo Divine Tree was known only to a select few. If we were to mention this undertaking to ordinary people, the sheer volume of mocking spittle thrown our way would likely drown us before our time, given how utterly preposterous our experiences have been. Yet, when I anxiously questioned the old man, beyond a flicker of surprise, there was no hint of derision whatsoever. This immediately sparked my curiosity: could the old man possibly know the whereabouts of this Suoluo Divine Tree?

Just as Man Niaoniao was about to open his mouth, I clapped a hand over it, simultaneously stomping hard on his foot. Attacked from above and below, Man Niaoniao’s eyes bulged like ox testicles, his muffled sounds trapped in his throat. After finally wrenching himself free, he spat twice, his "ox testicle" eyes flashing coldly as he stared at me, utterly bewildered.

"It's like this," I quickly interjected before Man Niaoniao could speak. "Our friend here," I gestured toward Qin Ping'er, "is an archaeology expert. She read in a book that a colossal Suoluo tree once grew in this area. She found it peculiar because she knows Suoluo trees are not supposed to grow very tall or large, so she wanted to come and see it for herself." God knows why I fabricated such a flimsy excuse at that moment. Thinking back, perhaps it was self-interest at play; after all, a fully rational modern person encountering inexplicable phenomena and letting their beliefs waver to investigate personally would surely be mocked by others as superstitious fools.

Ji Ye, Qin Ping’er, and Man Niaoniao stared at me in astonishment, but none of them voiced my unspoken thoughts.

The old man didn't pay much attention. Seeing that my explanation sounded smoother than a song, he took it as true and replied earnestly, "Well... I did hear the old storytellers mention it when I was young. There really was such a Suoluo tree in some remote corner of our Xidu area, and I heard it’s even connected to the origins of our Tujia people..."

My eyes widened even further. Could it be that the contents recorded in the silk manuscript actually have real-world verification? Were we really this lucky to potentially find the Suoluo Tree so soon?

Before the thrill of excitement could fully form in my chest, the old man continued, "I don't know the exact details, but I can take you to our village to ask around. There are still many older people there who might know about the Suoluo Tree you’re looking for." The old man spoke with genuine warmth.

"Where is your village located in the 'Diànbàr'?" Ji Ye asked.

"Heh heh, do you know Yumu Village?"

"Yumu Village? You live in Yumu Village, which is reputed to be the place where Tujia culture is best preserved?" I asked, surprised.

"Heh heh, there is a saying to that effect," the old man's smile held a touch of humility mixed with pride.

"Then... is Yumu Village far from here? Perhaps we should grab some dry rations first," Man Niaoniao suggested.

"Not far. You can see it once we climb this mountain," the old man politely took the rations from Man Niaoniao's hand. "Let’s go. We can chat as we walk, and maybe we'll even catch the 'Shāngwǔ' (Noon meal) starting in the village!"

We packed up briefly and followed the old man up the winding path along the hillside. The trail was dense with vines and undergrowth, forming low "tunnels" woven together by green trees and creepers in many spots. We stooped and ducked through these low 'tunnels,' listening to the old man recount local legends and amusing anecdotes as we walked.

Legend has it that Yumu Village was once named Chengjia Village, during a time when the Ma and Tan Tusi clans engaged in ceaseless warfare. The Tan Tusi was trapped in his mountain stronghold, and the Ma Tusi could not conquer it for a long time. One day, the Tan Tusi cast countless live fish down from the fortress. The Ma Tusi sighed, lamenting: "To conquer this fortress, it is like seeking fish from a tree!" Thus, "Yumu Village" (Fish Wood Village) got its name. In the early Ming Dynasty, this village belonged to the Longyang Dong Tusi, later submitting to the Shizhu Tusi. The gate tower constructed from massive stones at the village entrance was built in the fourth year of the Jiaqing reign of the Qing Dynasty. Access to the gate is possible only via a single stone slab ancient path, about two meters wide, flanked by cliffs thousands of feet high on either side—extremely precarious. Tujia people have been the long-term inhabitants within the stockade, and to this day, they retain intact customs of ancient Tujia life, diet, marriage, funerals, and architecture. The men and women are skilled at singing and dancing and are warm and hospitable; the young women enjoy embroidering 'flower sock bottoms,' weaving 'Xilankapu' patterns, and making 'cloth sandals'; the men are adept at drinking corn wine. Some call it a "Peach Blossom Spring," and that is no exaggeration.

We also learned from the old man that the Qing River, within the borders of Lichuan, has always been known for exquisite scenery described by phrases like "Three Brights and Three Darks," "Five Shoals and Seven Riffles," and "Four Gorges and Six Caves." The "Three Brights and Three Darks" refers to: a clear flow for 120.4 kilometers from the source to Tanxiang Cave, this is the "First Bright"; an underground flow for 6 kilometers to Longdonggou before emerging, this is the "First Dark"; a clear flow for 58 kilometers from the entrance of Longdongkou to Luoshuidong northeast of Lichuan city, this is the "Second Bright"; an underground flow of 8.5 kilometers from Luoshuidong entrance until it surfaces at Guancaixia, this is the "Second Dark"; a clear flow of 1 kilometer through Guancaixia, this is the "Third Bright"; and an underground flow of 2 kilometers to the exit of Heidong, this is the "Third Dark." The "Five Shoals and Seven Riffles" are: Xijiatuo, Pentuo, Dàpéntuó, Taijituo, Jiangjiatuo, and Bailongtan, Diaoyutan, Yujintan, Shiban’tan, Xiaobutan, Lianghuitan, and Pípátan. The "Four Gorges and Six Caves" are Sanduxia, Guancaixia, Maojiaxia, Fangdongxia, and Tanxiangdong, Longdong, Luoshuidong, Lianyudong, Xiangshuidong, and Heidong. A poem describing it goes: "Bright when clear, dim when hidden, the winding shoals flow backward against the current. Fierce riffles cascade for three thousand li, enjoying a boat ride through Luoshuidong!"

Listening to the old man narrate local lore along the mountain path shaded by trees and tangled thorns, we didn't feel particularly tired. Any fine sweat that broke out was quickly chased away by the mountain breeze, thick with the scent of flowers and various green, unripe aromas. Unconsciously, we drew closer to the summit.

The closer we got to the peak, the brighter the daylight became. The sun was high at noon, its rays spilling onto the slope, changing the scenery from a deep, inky green to a vibrant emerald. Standing on the open ledge and looking down, we saw that the entire Longdonggou was a vast pool of dark green water. Misty vapor drifted and wandered through the mountains, dyeing the whole valley mysterious and profound.

We didn't linger to admire the scenery beneath our feet. After a few quick steps upward, our vision suddenly brightened, and a grand landscape painting slowly unfolded before us. I use the word "slowly" because our eyes could barely keep up; every vista stirred our hearts and accelerated our pulses.

Of course, we quickly turned our gaze toward an ancient, rustic town. Nestled among the countless peaks and valleys, the mountains stood like a forest, every summit overwhelmingly covered in lush green, punctuated here and there by clusters of vivid rhododendrons brightening the emerald landscape. One peak was particularly unique; from a distance, it resembled a slippery carp swimming through a sea of clouds, entirely surrounded by sheer, thousand-foot cliffs. The small town was perched right on the mountaintop. We could see clusters of quaint stilt houses nestled among ancient pines and cypresses, with paths of uniform gray flagstones winding their way from where we stood all the way to the most perilous gate of the stockade.

The gate was built of bluestone, resembling a beacon tower. The flagstone path before the gate was neat and intact, losing nothing in comparison to the stone paths within the Tangya Tusi Imperial City. This stone path spanned the ridge, with cliffs on both sides, though the dense growth of trees and thorns on the cliffs offered a small measure of security and calm.

"Is... is that Yumu Village just ahead?" I turned to ask the old man. But when I spun around, the old man was gone. The other three looked around, equally confused; how could a living person suddenly vanish? I glanced at the others, and all three shook their heads blankly, just as shocked and bewildered by the old man's disappearance.

A very strange feeling washed over me then. Man Niaoniao quickly broke the silence that harbored the strangeness. "Damn it... this old man with the white beard looks so familiar... Where have I seen him before? Ah, I remember!" Man Niaoniao slapped his thigh and exclaimed thunderously, "The old man I saw in Anle Cave when I was little was this very one!"

This statement thoroughly unnerved me. Despite the heat of June, a chill crawled up my spine. This was truly an instance of seeing a ghost in broad daylight. If this old man was indeed the same one Man Niaoniao saw in Anle Cave as a child, then he certainly wasn't human. How could he appear here in broad daylight, leading us to the doorstep of this ancient, rustic Tujia mountain village? What were his intentions? Or what was his purpose?

"Are you sure you're not mistaken?" I asked Man Niaoniao, my voice catching with cold air.

"Absolutely. This whole way up, I kept thinking where I’d seen him before. But he was speaking so coherently, I never found a chance to ask. It wasn't until we realized he was gone that my mind finally put the pieces together," judging by Man Niaoniao’s solemn expression, I felt he wasn't joking or trying to be deliberately cryptic.

Moreover, a huge question arose in my mind: from the moment we met the old man, none of us had asked his name. We had only addressed him as "Sir," which made no sense under any circumstance. Naturally, the old man, in his politeness, had also neglected to ask for our names. How should we interpret this?

Though we puzzled over the old man's origin endlessly, having weathered some strange encounters, we weren't overcome by sheer terror. Finally, I gritted my teeth, deciding it was useless to speculate on his background. I declared, "Since we are here, we must accept it. We've walked all this way to the door, so we might as well go inside and have a look. If the old man led us here, there must be some secret hidden in this village he intends to tell us. Besides, he showed no malice. What is there to fear in broad daylight?"

The other three nodded in agreement. I spotted Hua'er lifting his leg to relieve himself under an old locust tree, which settled my nerves further. This fellow had also seen the old man but hadn't made a sound, clearly indicating the old man wasn't one of those so-called 'Half-Puppets.' I thought to myself, if 'Half-Puppets' dare show themselves in daylight, then the world we live in must truly have found harmony.

As we stepped onto the two-meter-wide flagstone path leading to the gate, we discovered that the path was flanked by long bluestone walls, similar to a section of the Great Wall, though they were hard to spot because they were so densely covered by vines and thorns. The bluestone was dark, covered in yellowish-green moss, giving the entire wall one overriding impression: ancient. If an adjective were required, it would be very ancient.

Although some weeds sprouted through cracks in the flagstones, the path’s cleanliness suggested frequent traffic. In one corner, I even spotted a pile of very fresh cow dung. I joked to Man Niaoniao, "Buddy, when did you sneak over here to take a dump?"