Old Huang frowned, looking at me, knowing full well I was a paleontologist. I shook my head at him and said, "A cry alone isn't enough for a definite identification, but I don't believe it was a wildling.

Wildlings belong to the ape family; that sound was decidedly feline, a wildcat perhaps. If only we could collect some hair or blood traces." Old Huang nodded, then turned to Dongzi and said, "Let Dongzi tell us exactly what happened..." Dongzi's injuries weren't severe; his companion had bandaged him, and the bleeding had stopped.

The others fell silent, their eyes fixed expectantly on him. Dongzi took a shaky breath, his face still terrifyingly pale, his jaw chattering.

He spoke haltingly, "I'd just stepped into the woods to relieve myself... The moment I entered, I felt a sudden, chilling gust of wind.

I looked closely and saw a small mound not far into the trees, and near the cliff face, there was a fissure in the rock, with a cool breeze whistling out. I didn't pay it much mind, just wanted to finish up quickly." "Unexpectedly, halfway through, I heard what sounded like a chuckle coming from that stone crack.

The hair stood up on my neck. I glanced back and nearly lost my soul.

Guess what I saw? I saw a person squeezing their way out of that rock fissure.

I let out a yell and scrambled to pull up my trousers, but that person managed to grab my shoulder. The pain was searing, like fire, but I didn't care; I just ran out!" A tremor of unease ran through me.

If it had been a boar or a bear, maybe one shot wouldn't have killed it, but those bullets had struck true. If it had been a human, they would have died instantly.

I wiped a slick of cold sweat from my brow, wondering if this forest truly harbored some phantom. Subsequently, Old Huang, along with a few soldiers, followed me into the woods to investigate.

I found several footprints on the ground, deep and shallow impressions larger than those of a normal primate, but there was no trace of hair or blood. Then we went to examine the fissure Dongzi had described, near that mound.

It was a narrow crack, barely wide enough for one person to pass through. The edges were fringed with moss and weeds, clearly indicating that the supposed 'person' didn't frequent the spot, otherwise, the edges would have been smoothed over.

Old Huang shone his military flashlight inside. The fissure was exceedingly deep, pitch black with no visible end, but a cold, damp wind blew out from it.

The bottom was littered with jagged stones, offering no further clues in the way of hair. Fearing a reappearance of whatever lurked within, *had no intention of sending men inside and urged me to leave quickly.

Returning to the group, he didn't elaborate. He simply stated, "Everyone should be rested enough now.

This place feels unsettled; we need to keep moving! Stick together on the path.

Anyone needing a moment should go in groups of three or five for safety in case of trouble." With that, everyone stood up, and we continued deeper into the mountains. I remained at the rear of the column, with Old Huang walking just behind me, guarding the "vulnerable contingent." Feng Ze, thoroughly terrified, didn't dare go back alone now and trailed along with us.

Just as we departed, I thought I glimpsed a shadowy figure standing amidst the gloom of the forest, watching us. But when I turned my head to look, there was nothing there.

A chill crept down my spine, and I quickened my pace to catch up, an inexplicable sense of foreboding clinging to me. We cautiously traversed the expanse of dove tree blossoms.

The Davidia involucrata, or dove tree, is a Class I national endangered plant, typically blooming in late spring to early summer. Its massive, pure white corollas resemble the wings of a soaring pigeon, hence its name.

The sea of dove trees before us was in full bloom, vast stretches unfolding together like ten thousand doves taking flight—a truly magnificent sight. As this species is highly precious, I collected several specimens of leaves and bark for later study.

We proceeded onward, taking in the strange and captivating mountain scenery along the way. Miraculously, no further danger arose.

Before long, we reached the riverbank Feng Ze had mentioned and continued downstream along the shore. Though the path was rough at times, occasionally causing someone to sink into the muddy banks, the occasional cool breezes blowing up from the valley depths stirred the swaths of green foliage, and the distinct aromas of wormwood and lichens kept spirits surprisingly high.

As dusk approached, after walking along the river for a long time, we saw a very steep mountain ahead, upon which was a large cave. This cave was situated high on the cliff face, about twenty meters above the ground—a perilous location.

Liang Qian proved remarkably agile, producing her climbing pick and ascending swiftly. This gave me a renewed respect for her; I realized the woman certainly possessed uncommon capabilities.

Once up top, she secured the pre-prepared rope ladder and lowered it to the ground. Standing below, in the fading light of the setting sun, I could see the interior of the cave was a deep crimson color, likely due to high iron content in the local rock.

Liang Qian then rappelled down the rope ladder, smiled faintly, and announced, "The cave is quite shallow, only a few meters deep. Aside from a few bird nests, there’s nothing inside; it’s perfectly safe for us to stay the night and resume our journey tomorrow.

Let's settle dinner down here first. Everyone except Dongzi, who needs rest, set up the firewood.

Old Huang, come with me to fetch some wild game." Old Huang laughed heartily. "Well, our beautiful Miss Liang shows more leadership than I do.

Agreed, I'll come along." The two of them, taking their gear, disappeared into the woods. An hour later, they returned with a plump deer.

Seeing that we wouldn't have to subsist on canned rations, my mood brightened considerably. This team clearly had extensive wilderness survival experience.

They skillfully skinned the deer, removed the offal, divided the meat into manageable pieces, erected an iron grate, and began roasting it over the fire. After it was cooked, they sprinkled only a touch of salt.

Though simple, the exquisite flavor of the wild meat in the mountains made me devour my portion greedily. Afterward, we extinguished the fire pit and climbed the rope ladder up to the cave to prepare for sleep.

Although staying twenty meters up on a cliff was undoubtedly very secure, Old Huang still organized shifts for night watch. I was utterly exhausted from the day, and since it wasn't my turn on watch, I didn't mind the dirt floor, leaning against the cave wall and quickly drifting into a deep sleep.

Inside the cave, only the faint whisper of the wind could be heard, but the primeval forest below was a riot of sound. Every night in late spring is a concert for the insects, played with wild abandon.

I didn't feel hot sleeping in the cave, but the mosquitoes were vicious. Even the mosquito coils we lit seemed ineffective; the mountain mozzies were seasoned veterans, each bite drawing blood.

Soon, the cave was filled only with snoring, punctuated by the sounds of slapping mosquitoes. After an unknown duration, I heard a giant mosquito buzzing near my ear in my dream, the sound unnervingly resembling human murmuring, which jolted me awake.

I sat up, expecting to see a monstrous mosquito, but there was nothing save for the cyclical snores and an unidentified clicking sound mixed into the wind. I rubbed my head and looked out.

The exterior was still pitch black. Liang Qian was standing at the mouth of the cave, peering out, seemingly trying to stretch her neck clear of the opening to observe something intently.

Liang Qian seemed to sense my movement and quickly turned, making a shushing gesture toward me. She whispered, "Below...

someone!" My curiosity overriding caution, I crept closer. Aided by the faint twilight outside, I saw Liang Qian's expression was grave, laced with a degree of fear.

Seeing me staring, she mistook it for an attempt to speak and quickly clamped a hand over my mouth, murmuring softly, "Shh... Listen." At that, I held my breath, straining my ears to catch any sound from outside.

The chorus of insects was already much subdued compared to when night first fell. They chirped lazily, occasionally interspersed with the cry of night cats—sounds that sent a chill down the spine.