Mysterious Mountain Forest Adventure
[Prologue: An Invitation in the Morning Mist]
As the morning light just began to spill over the tiled roofs of the small town, Ayu was awakened by the chirping of baby birds in the swallow's nest under the eaves. A thin layer of oil still floated on the glutinous rice porridge on the wooden table. The porridge in her enamel bowl barely rippled before she placed her chopsticks on the rim: "Yesterday, Grandpa Wang was squatting under the old locust tree sharpening his wood-chopping knife. He said that the 'bewitching forest' behind the mountain has been off-limits to anyone since his grandfather's generation. The ferns there can grow as tall as a person, and at night, phosphorescent blue lights float up."
Xiaoyan's fingers, which were holding a cornbread, suddenly froze, crumbs falling onto her blue apron. "No wonder the other evening, I saw an old woman in an indigo cotton jacket emerge from the depths of the forest. A string of red berries hung from the edge of her bamboo basket, looking like it was stained with blood—and she had a green, shimmering rope wrapped around her ankle, moving like a live snake." Amin paused, stuffing compressed biscuits into his canvas bag, the metal compass clinking softly inside. "Two years ago, when I was at the border post, an old hunter told me about a similar forest, saying there was a kind of 'guiding fungus' that glowed green when people got lost."
I. Stepping into the Secret Realm: Copper Bells and Fluorescent Light
The stone path leading to the forest was softened by the morning mist. Amin deliberately tucked his military water bottle behind his back; the canvas bag straps diggered painfully into his shoulder blades. Just as they crushed the first frosty fern leaf underfoot, a damp scent mixed with decaying wood and pine resin wafted over, enveloped in a fine mist. Xiaoyan suddenly grabbed Ayu's rough cloth sleeve: "Listen—the sound of bells!"
Amidst the rustling of the wind through the beech leaves, there was indeed a faint tinkling sound. Amin bent down and parted a clump of brambles taller than a man; the decaying leaves rustled dully beneath his boots. A few wild goats with brass bells around their necks were grazing on wild berries twining around ancient vines. The cloud-like patterns on the bells were worn down to faint traces, casting fragmented Bagua (Eight Trigrams) patterns on the mossy ground when the sunlight slanted. "These bells look like they're from the Ming Dynasty," Amin said, picking up a bell with the tip of his dagger. "Judging by the patina, they're several hundred years old."
"Amin, look!" Ayu suddenly squatted down in front of a clump of serrated plants, her fingertips brushing against the back of the leaves—the veins were glowing a fluorescent green, like someone had embroidered a star map in the leaf tissue with fluorescent powder. Xiaoyan hurriedly pulled out her phone; the screen had barely lit up when it hissed and emitted blue smoke. Amin's compass needle was frantically circling the dial, the red needle nearly piercing the glass. "Stand closer!" Amin shoved the compass into his pocket, his hand on the dagger at his waist. "The geomagnetic field here is weird."
Suddenly, the pile of fallen leaves beneath her feet collapsed, revealing a dark hole. Ayu peered inside and saw half a beast's tooth embedded in the hole wall, its tip still coated with amber-colored resin. Several butterflies with metallic blue wings suddenly fluttered up from beneath the decaying leaves, their wings beeping as they flapped, the scales along their edges falling softly into Ayu's hair like scattered sapphires.
II. Gifts from Nature's Treasury: Stone Tablets and Mythical Beasts
The deeper they went, the more extraordinary the trees became. Embedded in the trunk of a crooked maple tree was half a rounded stone tablet, the inscription eroded by moss, leaving only the words "Twenty-seventh Year of Wanli" clearly legible. Just as Ayu's fingertips touched the indentation of the character "历" (Li), the bushes beside her suddenly rustled, and a small beast the size of a palm darted out: its pointed ears were perked up, its bushy tail was encircled by nine golden stripes, its eyes were like black grapes soaked in water, and it held a red berry the size of a pigeon's egg in its mouth.
"It's 'Mountain Wind'!" Amin whispered, the crisp sound of his military boots crunching over withered leaves startling the little beast's ears. "The Classic of Mountains and Seas says it 'looks like a weasel, with a nine-segmented tail, and its appearance foretells wind and rain.'" The little beast tilted its head, staring at the calluses on Ayu's palm, then suddenly placed the berry in her hand, its front paws digging three shallow marks on the ground before turning and disappearing into the shadows of the ferns. The berry felt cool to the touch, its skin revealing fine, golden veins, as if someone had embroidered a miniature map on its surface.
Xiaoyan squatted down in front of a cluster of white pompom flowers, unable to move—the dewdrops on the flower spikes, illuminated by the sunlight, refracted a rainbow of colors. She had just picked a flower and tucked it into her hair when something lightly touched her wrist. Looking down, she saw a small, emerald-green snake, its forked tongue licking the white flower in her hair, its scales shimmering like scattered diamonds in the sunlight. As Amin pulled Xiaoyan back, the snake's tail swept across the pile of fallen leaves, leaving a fluorescent green trail that snaked in a circle on the ground before gradually fading away.
Rounding a ridge, everyone gasped in astonishment—the entire valley was covered in glowing moss, which shimmered with a warm, jade-like light when the midday sun filtered through the leaves. Ayu crushed a stone covered in fluorescent moss, and a bead the size of a pigeon's egg rolled out from a crevice. Its surface shimmered with iridescent light, as if a rainbow had been frozen within it. "This is a 'Moon Dewdrop,'" Amin said, picking up the bead with the tip of his dagger. "The elders say that only moss that has absorbed a hundred years of moonlight can form one."
III. A Fork in the Road in the Mist: Bellflowers and Murals
The midday sun, fragmented by the tree canopy, cast its rays onto the moss-covered rocks. As Ayu unscrewed the kettle, she noticed the first-aid kit in the side pocket of her canvas bag had been opened, iodine-soaked cotton balls scattered along the way, leaving dark brown stains on the decaying leaves. "Damn it," Aming muttered, staring at the overlapping footprints on the ground. "We went in circles while chasing the mountain wind—we saw that camphor tree with the three burls half an hour ago."
Xiaoyan suddenly grabbed Ayu's arm, her fingertips icy cold: "The compass is still spinning erratically..." Before she could finish speaking, a thick, impenetrable white mist suddenly surged up from the valley floor, instantly engulfing the trees ten steps away. Ayu instinctively grabbed the "tree trunk" beside her, but touched a sticky texture—it was the vine of an epiphytic plant, with clusters of purple bell-shaped flowers hanging from it, nectar dripping from the petals onto the back of her hand, sticky like melted maltose.
"Don't touch it!" Amin's voice drifted from the mist, accompanied by the crackling of flint. "Follow the torches!" The moment the torches ignited, everyone saw fluorescent murals covering the rock face: ancestral people in animal skins led long-horned deer across the flames, strings of moon dewdrops hanging from their antlers; in a corner, an old woman in indigo cloth was feeding red berries to a snake with a bird's head. Below the murals, half a bone flute was stuck in a crevice in the rock, the edge of the hole still bearing the bite marks of human teeth.
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