Chapter Two Archaeological Expedition in Shennongjia (Part Two)

They say ghosts are the most terrifying things, but that’s a mistake—scaring yourself is the most frightening of all.

That night, the moon was unusually round, yet curiously dim, illuminating only the small clearing where we camped. Gazing toward the forest, the trees stood motionless in the darkness like corpses, lending a chilling edge to the moon’s eerie glow. From time to time, some unknown bird let out a shrill, grating cry, startling me so much I shivered.

The night was black and the wind high. As the wind swept through the forest, its sound was like the wailing of ghosts, a mournful, endless moan. After a long day’s trek, the boys had already fallen asleep, their snores booming like thunder.

I unzipped my tent and glanced across at the girls’ shelter; only theirs glowed with lamplight, bodies tossing and turning within. It was impossible not to notice—they clearly couldn't sleep either. The girls in our department on this trip were all stunning, the kind whose beauty could topple empires; just thinking about their faces was a pleasure.

The wind picked up, making the tents flap noisily. I caught sight of a young woman in her nightdress walking towards my tent; she must have been scared. Though I was just an ordinary guy—not particularly handsome, and sometimes even annoying—at least my height was respectable. While the campus beauty was out of my reach, the rest shouldn’t be too difficult.

As the figure drew closer, I felt a secret thrill—if I got to share my tent with a beautiful girl, I’d happily kick Old Ma out to sleep in the forest.

“Dong! Dong!” the girl called my nickname from outside, knocking on my tent. My tent was my private chamber; the zipper was inside, so no one could open it from outside.

Hearing her call, I feigned drowsiness, yawning, and asked, “What is it?” She seemed anxious, intent on getting in. Feigning reluctance, I unzipped the tent; she almost burst in on her own. A faint fragrance enveloped me, nearly making me dizzy—if I’d really fainted, wouldn’t that have been a loss?

She shone her flashlight over me, taking in my appearance; she also noticed Old Ma snoring away beside me. I admired her nerve—a young woman barging into another’s tent in the dead of night, especially when its owners were two grown men.

She didn’t waste words, hanging her lamp from the tent's ceiling, filling half the space with light. Thankfully, my tent was well sealed; no light escaped. She introduced herself as Shuang, a third-year student, asking me to call her “senior,” and apologized for what had happened that afternoon.

How could I refuse? She was sincerely apologizing—anyone who wouldn’t accept it must be heartless. I forced a smile; honestly, I’d been angry about the afternoon, but since she was a beauty visiting my humble tent, courtesy was necessary.

Senior Shuang seemed to enjoy ghost stories; she insisted she’d just seen someone behind my tent, scaring me out of my wits, but remained adamant and wanted me to believe her. Though I was a skeptic, I couldn’t help but be unnerved by how real she sounded. I poked my head out to check behind my tent, breathed a sigh of relief, and said, “There’s nothing there, see?” The look I shot her was half incredulous, as though she were mad, and I zipped up the tent, ready to sleep. She lay down beside me.

I barely slept all night—not because of Old Ma’s snoring, but because of this restless goddess beside me. Finally, at five in the morning, she returned to her own tent, and I managed two hours of peace.

When Old Ma and I finally opened our eyes, all we saw was a bright blue sky. We exchanged a few words.

“Old Ma, isn’t the sky just so blue?” I said.

“Yes, and look how round the sun is,” Old Ma replied. “But don’t you feel like something’s missing?” he asked suspiciously.

“Yeah, where’s our tent?” I exclaimed, leaping up from the ground.

Everyone else was packing up; only the two of us were still dozing. Shuang had packed our tent for us. Watching Old Ma scratching his head on the ground, I wanted to kick him—never mind that he’s twenty years older than me, our friendship’s ageless.

I could only offer Shuang a grateful smile for packing up our things. We moved on, though this godforsaken place had no signal—my phone showed two big X’s, killing any hope of making a call.

We ate rough, slept exposed to the elements, and finally reached the place where the wild man had reportedly been spotted. The ground was littered with a few skulls and bones, as well as some nearly rotted caution tape, but not a single person in sight.

I wanted to curse—we’d come all this way for a few broken bones. This wasn’t our first fieldwork; I still didn’t know what the academy hoped to achieve. Old Ma, ever the expert, whipped out his magnifying glass to examine the bones and hair. The rest of us gathered around, curious to see the difference between a wild man and an ordinary human.

“These aren’t wild man bones,” Old Ma announced. “They belong to regular people!” We stared, mouths agape—who would commit murder in such a desolate place? Even for money, no robber would be foolish enough to kill here.

Then, as Old Ma examined a skull, he made a remark that sent a chill through all of us: “Look at the neck bones!”

Following his gesture, we saw that each neck bone had two holes, as though bitten by something.

Being rather blunt, I blurted out, “Are these zombie bites?” Old Ma shot me a withering look, while the girls whispered nervously.

I fell silent, head down, though Shuang came to my side to offer comfort.

“Xiaodong, go bury these skeletons,” Old Ma ordered, earning him the girls’ praise: “Mr. Ma, you’re so wise!”

I had no choice but to obey. I muttered to the remains, “Don’t blame me—if you have grievances, take it up with those girls over there!” Then I dug a shallow hole and buried the bones, making a scary face with a skull at the girls for good measure.

They say that when misfortune strikes, it’s often because something unclean has attached itself to you. Luckily, I wore a blessed Guanyin pendant, and had a box of consecrated Zhong Kui charms in my backpack, so I wasn’t scared of such things.

As I buried the bones, I placed a Zhong Kui figure in the pit—Zhong Kui is a powerful figure in the underworld, and no matter how resentful or skillful a ghost, he’ll treat them all as nonsense.

By the time I finished, the afternoon sun was blazing overhead. We trekked through the woods, looking less like archaeologists and more like vacationers.

Eventually, we reached the base of a small hill—more a mound than a mountain. Old Ma’s expression changed as he looked at it, and he told us to camp on a hill opposite.

“But isn’t this an ideal spot? Why go so far?” I asked, puzzled.

Old Ma didn’t explain, just insisted we move. With no other choice, we set up camp on the opposite clearing, about a mile away—not too far, but from there we couldn’t see the mound at all, the hills blocking our view.

I knew Old Ma’s habits—once again, I’d be setting up camp while he sipped tea, living like an immortal, born for comfort.

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