I held the wooden stick, carefully lifting the canvas flap, striking a practiced pose as if aiming a rifle into the opening, simultaneously piercing the darkness within with the beam from the flashlight held in my mouth.

He inspected the interior for a moment, lowered the weapon, and said, "It's clear. Let's go in."

The two of us then entered the tent. Inside, there were two simple, long tables cluttered with disorganized documents, and a microscope. Beside the microscope sat a wooden rack holding a few scattered test tubes. The botanical specimens in the tent had long since dried out.

In the far corner of the tent rested a wooden cot, covered with a bearskin blanket that, remarkably, showed no signs of decay.

Crucially, there was a first-aid kit on a small cabinet next to the cot.

I walked over, flipped the blanket up to check it, confirming it wasn't rotten or infested, and then had him carry Xiao Wang over and place him **.

He retrieved a waterproof sheet from his backpack for Xiao Wang to use as a cover, and then we began examining the first-aid kit.

Because the temperature underground was quite low, the bandages and alcohol in the kit hadn't spoiled. We used the alcohol to disinfect Xiao Wang's wound and redressed it.

I asked * if we should give him a shot of penicillin, but * shook his head, telling me penicillin's shelf life was at most three years.

After circling the small space, I noticed a smokeless stove in the center of the tent. The charcoal briquettes nearby were quite dry, so I took out my lighter and started a fire for Xiao Wang.

* sat on the edge of the cot, resting the back of his hand against Xiao Wang's forehead to check his temperature. He murmured, "He's much better than before. This kid might just make it."

Having keenly felt the fragility of life, I was genuinely relieved for Xiao Wang, as death was an exceedingly common occurrence in this subterranean cavern.

Having settled Xiao Wang, we had dealt with one major issue. The eerie, dense forest surrounding us remained unknown, and if we were to explore, we first needed to recover our strength.

I pulled two cans of preserved bean products from my backpack, set them on the smokeless stove to warm, gave one can to *, and found a comfortable corner for myself to eat while chewing on compressed biscuits.

* ate faster than I did, quickly swallowing the contents of the can, washing it down with a few gulps of water, and then pulled out his military knife to whittle the wooden stick.

We had lost our climbing axes long ago—we couldn't even remember when—so * was sharpening the stick so it would be easier to carry and could serve as a makeshift weapon if danger arose.

I ate my food, watching * .

He didn't speak, merely focusing on his whittling.

The warm air flowing from the nearby stove brought a soothing relaxation to my body.

I had intended to ask * how long we planned to stay here, but by the time the thought formed, I realized I didn't even have the energy to open my mouth.

Then, in my vision, *’s whittling slowed, my own eyelids grew heavy, and my consciousness began to drift.

We were utterly exhausted. We slept fitfully, losing track of time, and when I finally awoke from my dream, I found I was still tightly gripping my spoon, with soybeans spilled all over my trousers from the can.

Moreover, I had fallen asleep on the ground, my head leaning against the wooden cot, with one of Xiao Wang's shoes jammed against my back. When I tried to move, every muscle ached terribly.

Still, I struggled to rise and stretched my limbs.

There was no concept of day or night in this underground world. It was still pitch black outside, with only that dim, yellowish electric bulb—on perhaps for years—casting a faint light.

* was in worse shape than me; he was sprawled entirely on the ground, the wooden stick discarded beside him, snoring loudly.

I felt a flicker of pride, perhaps the first time I’d woken up before someone else, and decided I would freshen up first, then call * awake with maximum composure.

Without toothpaste or a brush, I scrubbed my teeth with my finger, rinsed with a mouthful of mineral water, and chewed a stick of gum.

I used the remaining mineral water to wash my face. The water I rubbed off was thick with black mud, and I didn't dare look at how filthy my face truly was.

After cleaning up, I turned to call * , only to see he was already sitting up, staring intently at the spot where the light shone in.

When he saw me looking, he tensed noticeably and made a sharp shushing gesture toward me.

His movement instantly pulled my relaxed nerves taut again. I cursed internally: He’s deliberately preventing me from relaxing. What is it now?

I turned my head to look where * was staring. The dim yellow light streamed in from a distance, casting the shadow of a tree onto the canvas wall of the tent. There was no wind outside, so the shadow was perfectly still. Everything seemed unnervingly quiet, as if this were a forgotten, frozen space.

I expected to see a figure, but the sight before me held nothing unusual, so I looked back at * .

* beckoned me over.

I cautiously approached him, squatted down, and whispered, "What is it? There's nothing outside!"

* leaned close to my ear and said in a trembling voice, "Do you remember that tree outside, and where the electric light was hanging?"

I thought back, and an immediate cold sweat broke out on my forehead.

Right—when we entered, I distinctly remembered the electric light on that tree was hanging on the side closest to the tent. That meant, according to the laws of physics, the tree’s shadow should project outward, never being mapped onto our tent.

And besides that one tree, there were no other plants between the light source and the tent.

This phenomenon left only two possibilities: either a tree had sprouted in the yard while we slept, or someone had moved the electric light.

Whichever possibility it was, it was enough to make me feel suffocated.

However, after watching for a moment longer, I said to * , "It is strange, but it’s just a tree shadow. Let's go out and check!"

* pressed down on my shoulder and whispered urgently, "Don't move. Whatever you do, don't move. That tree... it's alive."

I was startled again. A living tree? What did that mean?

* continued, "The noise you made while washing woke me up. The moment I sat up, I saw that shadow. It was moving then—one of its branches was swaying side to side, just like a human arm."

I suppressed the terror rising in my chest and hissed, "Has the tree underground grown a spirit?"

Perhaps sensing we had noticed it, even though we kept staring at the shadow, it stopped moving entirely.

After waiting a while, I grew impatient: "No matter how strong it is, it’s just a tree, not the Old Hag from A Chinese Ghost Story. We should go out and see what kind of demon this is."

Tree spirits have existed since ancient times, the most common legends involving the Shanke (Mountain Guest). It was said people still saw them before the liberation. Shanke usually hid in dense forests and were easily encountered by lone travelers at night. They were adept at mimicking human laughter, often with a strange sound, but usually never showed themselves. If you left a basket of eggs near the tree where a Shanke resided, it would take the eggs the next day and leave you a large bundle of firewood in exchange—an ancient way of trading fuel. Those who claimed to have seen them sometimes described them as walking trees, others as human-like—generally regarded as benevolent monsters.

Though I didn't believe in actual monsters, the scene before me offered no other explanation.

* engaged in grave robbing; naturally, he didn't know the meaning of fear. He nodded, pulled the bolt back on his rifle, and slowly moved toward the tent flap with me.

We crept quietly to the entrance. I glanced back to confirm the shadow remained motionless, and then we threw open the door and rushed out.

* immediately raised his rifle upon exiting, pointing it toward the strange tree and shouting, "Stop moving!"

My gaze followed his, and I was immediately stunned by the sight before me.

The 'tree spirit' we had feared turned out to be a person!

The figure wore a filthy greatcoat adorned with numerous twigs, standing with arms spread wide, gazing up at the sky as if waiting for something. He was completely motionless, truly resembling a tree.

* saw he wasn't moving and called out again, "You... who are you?"

The person didn't turn around but merely shifted his shoulders and spoke in a low voice, "Hurry... back to the tent... it’s almost dawn..."

This confused us even further. What dawn? Weren't we underground? Did the depths have a daybreak? Who was this person whose words and actions made no sense?

But just then, we saw a faint red glow slowly ignite at the edge of the vast, dark forest—like the rising sun about to break the horizon.

As that sliver of red light ascended, the space, previously as black as ink, suddenly opened up. We saw countless leaves reflecting the crimson light of the dawn. Simultaneously, the red glow illuminated the gigantic, boundless cavern ceiling above us; rugged rocks, like the spine of a celestial dragon, stretched from above our heads far into the distance.

An underground sunrise! We could not comprehend what was unfolding; it defied all scientific knowledge.

As the red light grew brighter, a faint breeze stirred in the deathly quiet underground forest. All the trees swayed as if newly alive, and we heard the familiar rustling sound—the breath of life. At the same time, a palpable sense of unrest began to stir within the forest.

The distant red light intensified, drawing most of our attention. But when we turned back, the strange man had vanished without our noticing.

I searched around but found no trace of him.

Just as I considered looking for him, * tugged my arm and said, "Don't go! We can't worry about him now. I tell you, this scene is too unusual. Something major might be happening!"

I nodded, thinking it better to hide for a while, as it wouldn't delay us much.

Upon returning to the tent, the red glow became even more intense. If not for what we saw and heard next, I truly would have believed it was the sun.

The brightness of the red light had long surpassed the dim yellow bulb hanging on the tree, casting the shadows of distant trees toward us.

Next, we saw on the canvas wall a mass of red, luminous substance slowly rising from the distance, gaining altitude faster than any normal sun.

Then, an astonishing scene occurred: as the object we thought was the sun ascended toward the cavern ceiling, its light abruptly dimmed. It then split, fracturing in the center into three parts. Each fragment was significantly dimmer than the original light, nearing a sickly white hue.

The cavern's interior slowly darkened again, while the three pale, glowing shadows were clearly reflected on the tent canvas.

* and I stared at each other, expressions filled with confusion.

Just then, I seemed to notice the three light masses growing larger, appearing to descend toward the ground. Simultaneously, the wind whistling through the dense sea of trees grew louder, countless leaves rustling violently. Our tent curtain was whipped back and forth like ocean waves.

I then noticed that in our initial panic upon entering, we hadn't properly secured the flap. Now, the curtain was being lifted by the wind. I rushed forward to press it down.

But the moment I saw what was happening outside the flap, I froze.

In the distance, against the sky, three colossal, circular orbs of light were slowly falling toward the ground. Beneath these orbs, in the forest canopy not far below, every large tree was covered in a dense swarm of humanoid figures, all clawing and reaching toward the light spheres, seemingly engaged in a bizarre dance.

On a large tree not far from us, a dozen figures perched atop the highest branches, gesticulating wildly toward the distant orbs, emitting strange, muffled cries. Upon closer inspection, they were the vicious, spiky Green-Thorns! I never imagined there were so many of these creatures in this forest.

* clearly saw the scene as well, quickly pulling me back. He whispered urgently, "Don't go out! Be careful not to be seen!"

We retreated to the corner of the tent and stood firm. By then, the two pale white lights outside the tent had become very dim. After a few minutes, the underground world returned to absolute darkness.

A few minutes later, * patted my shoulder and said, "Let's go out and look."

I followed him as he lifted the canvas flap, and we stepped outside.

* turned on his flashlight, first shining it on the trees. Finding nothing unusual, he searched deeper into the woods for a while, discovered nothing, and then turned to look at me.