Coincidentally, the biology department of F University launched an initiative under the banner of “quality education” and “endurance education,” organizing a field expedition to the Shennongjia region during the summer vacation. The aim was to enhance students’ willpower and survival skills through long-distance trekking in the primeval forest. The reason it’s considered coincidental is that the team leader, Liang Yingwu, was a good friend and an old classmate of mine. Naturally, I applied for a 20-day business trip to join this university student expedition to Shennongjia. Of course, my expenses would be covered by the newspaper; all I needed to do was submit a 4,000-word feature article upon my return. Being a reporter does have its perks; you often get to travel for free.
Liang Yingwu is a lecturer at F University. Aside from being somewhat more attractive and having more engaging classes, he’s not much different from any other young university teacher. However, I knew this was just a facade. If I hadn’t stumbled upon him in an unexpected encounter operating under a different identity, I would never have known that China actually has such a vast and mysterious X organization, nor would I have known that Liang Yingwu was a researcher for X. In fact, Liang Yingwu holds a Ph.D. in Bioengineering from Harvard University, and his youthfulness highlights his remarkable academic prowess. Due to his exceptional background, people with such credentials returning to universities in China would typically be given positions like dean or vice dean, or at least a professorship, even in the most prestigious institutions. However, his other identity does not allow him to be too conspicuous in daily life, so his academic credentials were slightly tampered with. For F University, this young lecturer only holds a bachelor’s degree from Harvard.
The X organization exists beyond the perception of ordinary people. Even among journalists like us, few know of its existence. Although it’s a semi-military department with a high level of clearance, it’s quite different from the State Security Bureau in nature. From what I understand, despite its extensive and sensitive reach, it’s fundamentally a research institution. In this world, events that are beyond ordinary human comprehension or that completely defy current scientific norms occur frequently. Some of these events have no lasting effects, while others have profound implications. In China, such extraordinary events are entirely handled by the X organization, and I believe every major country has similar agencies.
As for me, whether it’s luck or misfortune, I often find myself entangled in bizarre, even eerie events. Perhaps it’s due to my overly curious nature. After encountering a paranormal event during an interview, I started paying close attention to any unusual news or situations. Sometimes, even in seemingly mundane places, I would question, “Is the truth really what’s written here?” or “Is there really nothing more to it?” Thus, most of my strange experiences can be attributed to my own seeking. Naturally, dealing with the X organization became inevitable. However, this story isn’t closely related to the X organization, so let’s leave it at that.
The Shennongjia region, shrouded in mystery due to legends of wildmen and various other tales, always exudes an air of intrigue. For someone like me, with an insatiable curiosity, the prospect of visiting such a place was naturally exciting. After equipping myself with powerful flashlights, insect repellents, compressed biscuits, and other essentials, along with a sleeping bag, I met up with Liang Yingwu and the 12 members of the expedition team at the train station on the night of departure. The plan was to take a train from Shanghai to Wuhan, then transfer to a bus in Wuhan to reach Shennongjia via Badong. Seeing the students even more excited than I was, I was momentarily stunned. I thought my luggage was already quite substantial, but here were students with even more. One girl even brought two large suitcases, two small ones, and a shoulder bag, all carried onto the train by her parents. It seemed the male students in our group were in for some hard work.
We were to spend nearly 20 days together, and I had to interview and write articles. Once in Shennongjia, in the primeval forest, we would inevitably need to support each other, so regardless of my initial impressions of these university students, I needed to get to know them quickly. Over the years, my experience as a journalist wasn’t for nothing, and these students were also curious about the unique profession of journalism. By the morning of the next day, when we boarded the bus in Wuhan, I had already become quite familiar with these 12 students, engaging in laughter and conversation.
The 12 students included five girls and seven boys. Among them, two stood out the most. One was a boy named He Yunkai, whose arm muscles were impressively large, with biceps as thick as my calves, and his chest muscles were even more striking. I glanced over, and it seemed none of the five girls could match his chest height. I heard he was into bodybuilding, his skin tanned to a deep black. In my aesthetic judgment, such bodybuilding was a bit intimidating, but judging by He Yunkai’s demeanor, he was quite proud of his muscular physique. The other was a girl named Liu Wenying, who attracted attention for a simple reason—she was a beauty. With a round face, big eyes, a straight nose, and a daring crop top that added to her vibrant energy.
