vicious person

Chapter 1

Na Duo's Notebook - The Murderer

More than 300 skeletons piled up in Shennongjia

Recently, people discovered layers of skeletal remains left more than a hundred years ago in a cave in Maoerguan Village, Xinhua Township, Shennongjia.

The cave, known locally as "Human Cave," is located on a cliff in Baojia Mountain. An expedition team organized by Xinhua Township, led by local villager Yuan Zuoqing, found the cave after a difficult trek. Upon entering, they were shocked to find the ground littered with bones.

According to research, these skeletons have existed for over a hundred years. Based on the existing skeletons, there are approximately 300 sets of male and female remains, as well as young and old. Many children's skeletons were found near the pool inside the cave.

A careful examination of the cave revealed traces of past human habitation. Fragments of cups, plates, bowls, and burnt wood and bamboo seemed to tell the story of a bustling scene in the past.

Why did hundreds of people live together in one cave? What caused their deaths? The answers await further investigation.

According to People's Daily

Nightmare Recurrence (1)

Human Cave!

Yes, it's the Human Cave.

I never imagined I would hear those two words again in my life. And it was less than a year after that incident.

I am certain that neither the expedition team nor the journalist who wrote this report had any idea how terrifying and frightening the words "human cave" were, far more bizarre and ferocious than the skeletons found inside.

One day in May 2002, in the reporter's work area of the Morning Star, I, Nado, saw the "human cave" again!

I saw this news while browsing the internet. The first thing I usually do when I get to the newspaper office is check the news from the day or the previous days online. Especially for a reporter like me without a specific focus, I have to pay attention to all sorts of news. This concern doesn't stem from any interest in the news itself; quite the opposite, sometimes I don't even bother to read my own newspaper, the Morning Star.

Whether a journalist can read news online and how they read it is a crucial indicator of their quality. I can shamelessly say here that I am very proficient at reading news online.

Many new journalists might not understand the relationship between reading news online and conducting their own interviews. Well, I think it wouldn't hurt to reveal a little bit of the secret, although I'll hold back. But if a new journalist has excellent potential, they'll gradually understand this principle without me saying much, or even if I don't explain it. But if they're dull-witted, no matter how clearly I explain it, it's useless to them. Many things are like this.

Some self-proclaimed clever people might think that online news is useful to journalists because the internet is borderless, so they can just copy it directly. It's not that no one does this, but it's mostly editors, especially when they're compiling tomorrow's newspaper and suddenly find they don't have enough news articles, so they have no choice but to copy from the internet. But they'll never credit the individual; it's usually titled "Comprehensive Report from This Newspaper." In reality, it's just copying; sometimes, using "comprehensive" as a title is a common tactic. However, if a newspaper were to publish such reports every day, not only would its reputation within the industry plummet, but its sales would likely also drop rapidly. Therefore, it should only be done occasionally as a last resort.

What I'm referring to is certainly not this extremely harmful method of using online news, and directly attributing online news to the reporter is a major taboo in the industry. The truly correct method is to use the information revealed in online news to conduct secondary interviews.

Forgive my bluntness, but the majority of people in this world are foolish, and this is certainly true in journalism, a profession that demands relatively high levels of judgment and cultural refinement. You often see news articles exceeding a thousand words that are practically empty, or filled with trivial and well-known facts, while glossing over truly newsworthy events. Conversely, news stories with potentially significant underlying themes are frequently reduced to mere two or three hundred words. If you see such news online, you're in luck. Based on the clues, a simple phone call can yield an excellent news report. I've even received bonuses from the newspaper twice for such articles—truly "effortless."

That day, I walked into the office around 10 a.m., made myself a cup of Tieguanyin tea, sat down in front of the computer, and browsed through yesterday's and today's news on various news websites. Finding nothing that would allow me to conduct a second interview, I started wandering around aimlessly. It was while browsing the "Oddities" section of S's travel channel that I came across this news article.

I rarely lose my composure like this—I had just taken a sip of tea when I saw the news; the tea was still very hot. Normally, I would have gasped for breath, but at that moment I was completely stunned. I felt a chill run down my spine, my scalp tingled, and I even stopped breathing. Lin Haiyin, the beautiful reporter from the Ministry of Economic Affairs, walked past me and greeted me, but I acted as if I hadn't heard her, showing no reaction whatsoever, my eyes fixed on the screen.

That memory I desperately wanted to forget, that was so terrifying that I didn't even want to write it down in my journal, suddenly came back to me.

It took me more than three minutes to take a deep breath; I'd never held my breath that long, not even while swimming. As the fresh air filled my lungs, my senses slowly returned. I swallowed the now lukewarm Tieguanyin tea with difficulty, my tongue stinging from the heat.

Following that news article, there were comments from netizens, many of whom firmly believed it was fake news. They thought it was absurd. They found the mere sight of over a hundred skeletons absurd; if they saw this note, I wonder what they would think. Fantasy novel? Let them think what they want. After all, there are only a dozen or so people in this world who know the truth. To be precise, fourteen people, plus you, the fifteenth.

It's all in the past now. I told myself.

That expedition team went there again, and a journalist wrote about it, which is enough to prove they are safe and sound. That nightmare will not repeat itself.

Really?

Will it really... really never happen again? Suddenly, I became uncertain. Because "it" might not have been truly eradicated; in a sense, "it" is still alive, living right here in the city where I live—Shanghai.

I'm determined to write this story down, and I believe that once I finish it, I can truly break free from the shadow of what happened a year ago.

So, let's go back to a year ago.

Summer of 2001.

China's education system has long suffered from various problems, with students often bearing several times the academic burden of their peers in other countries, yet their actual abilities lag far behind. In light of this, educational reforms have intensified in recent years, with calls for reducing students' academic burden and promoting "quality education" growing louder each year. These reforms cover a wide range, from preschool to university.

Nightmare Repeats Itself (2)

In the summer of 2001, during a peak of the promotion of holistic education, the media had an undeniable responsibility to pay attention to and promote it. However, newspapers like the *Morning Star*, whose main readership was office workers, couldn't dedicate a large portion of their coverage to holistic education for primary and secondary school students. Therefore, besides reporting on the overall educational reform, they could only focus on holistic education for university students. As a freelance reporter, Na Duo was also instructed to keep an eye out for news leads in this area and to develop and publish any valuable stories thoroughly.

As luck would have it, the biology department at F University, promoting "holistic education" and "hardship training," organized a field trip to the Shennongjia region during the summer vacation. The aim was to cultivate students' willpower and survival skills through long-distance treks through the primeval forest. The reason it's considered a coincidence is that the teacher leading the team was named Liang Yingwu, a good friend and old classmate of mine. So, quite naturally, I applied for a twenty-day business trip from my workplace to join this student expedition team to Shennongjia. Of course, I wouldn't be paying; the newspaper would cover the travel expenses. All I had to do was submit a 4,000-word feature article upon my return. That's the advantage of being a journalist—often getting to travel for free.

Liang Yingwu was a lecturer at F University. Apart from being a bit better looking and having more engaging lectures, he was no different from any other young university teacher. But I knew that was just an illusion. If I hadn't stumbled upon him in another capacity during a chance encounter, I would never have known that such a large and mysterious organization as the X Organization existed in China, let alone that Liang Yingwu was a researcher at the X Organization.

In fact, Liang Yingwu held a PhD in Bioengineering from Harvard University, an academic qualification that, given his young age, fully demonstrated his exceptional academic abilities. However, because he was so outstanding, someone with such a background would typically be offered a professorship at even the most prestigious universities in China, if not a dean or vice-dean position. But Liang Yingwu's other identity prevented him from being too ostentatious in his daily life, so he slightly altered his academic credentials. To F University, this young lecturer merely possessed a bachelor's degree from Harvard.

Organization X exists outside the perception of ordinary people; even among journalists, few are aware of its existence. Although it's a semi-military department with a high rank, its nature differs significantly from the National Security Bureau. From what I understand, while this organization is incredibly powerful and has a vast and pervasive reach, it's essentially a research institution. In this world, events often occur that are unacceptable to most people, even completely deviating from existing scientific norms. Some of these events have no lasting consequences, while others have far-reaching impacts. In China, Organization X is fully responsible for handling such extraordinary events; I believe every other major power has similar organizations.

I don't know if it's luck or bad luck, but I always seem to experience strange, even bizarre, events one after another. Perhaps this is due to my excessive curiosity. After a chance encounter with something extraordinary during an interview, I became extremely attentive to all sorts of unusual news and situations. Even things that seem perfectly normal to ordinary people often leave me wondering, "Is that really the truth?" or "Is that all there is to it?" So, most of my strange experiences are, in a sense, self-inflicted. With so many of these experiences, dealing with Organization X became inevitable. However, this story has little to do with Organization X, so we'll stop here.

The Shennongjia region is shrouded in mystery due to the legends of the Wild Man and various other myths. As someone with an insatiable curiosity, I was naturally quite excited to go to such a place. After purchasing a powerful flashlight, insect repellent, compressed biscuits, and other necessities, and packing 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 my departure.

The plan was to take a train from Shanghai to Wuhan, and then transfer to a bus via Badong to Shennongjia. Seeing the university students who were even more excited than me, I was momentarily stunned. I thought I had enough luggage, but it turned out there were plenty of people here with more stuff than me. One girl even brought two large travel bags, two small travel bags, and a handbag, which her parents helped carry onto the train. It seemed the guys in the group were in for a tough time.

We'd be spending nearly 20 days together, and I also had to conduct interviews and write articles. In the Shennongjia primeval forest, we'd inevitably need to support each other. So, regardless of my initial impressions of these university students, I needed to get to know them as quickly as possible. My years as a journalist hadn't been for nothing, and these students were also quite curious about the profession. So, by the morning of the second day, when we boarded the bus to Wuhan, I had basically gotten to know these 12 university students and we were already chatting and laughing.

There were 12 students, five girls and seven boys. Among them, one boy and one girl were the most eye-catching.

The man's name was He Yunkai. His arms were incredibly muscular, as thick as my calves, and his pectoral muscles were astonishing. I glanced at the group of five girls, and none of them seemed to have a chest as large as his. I heard he was a bodybuilder, and his skin was tanned dark. However, in my opinion, bodybuilding to this extent is already a bit frightening, but judging from He Yunkai's expression, he seemed quite proud of his muscles.

The woman's name was Liu Wenying, and the reason she attracted attention was simple: she was beautiful. She had a round face, big eyes, a straight nose, and her daring crop top made her even more vibrant. She was a very outgoing girl, always the center of attention wherever she went. However, it seemed to me that she always seemed to be intentionally or unintentionally getting closer to Liang Yingwu, and her smile was always the brightest in his presence.

Liang Yingwu could be considered a rising star. His overseas experience, coupled with the mysterious aura naturally cultivated by his different background, and his handsome face already admired during his university days, made it strange if no girls had a crush on him. Frankly, I wouldn't find it strange if he had a bunch of teacher-student relationships. It's just that this guy is actually completely devoid of fun and incredibly rigid-minded; being his girlfriend wouldn't necessarily be a good thing.

Nightmare Repeats Itself (3)

Another couple also attracted attention. It wasn't that these two students were anything special, but they were inseparable wherever they went. The girl, Fei Qing, would cling to Ka Xiao'ou—the boy—whenever she had the chance; on the bus, she practically nestled into his arms. What their relationship was, of course, is self-evident. However, judging from their behavior, it didn't seem like they were on a wilderness adventure; it looked more like they were having a picnic in a Shanghai park.

Yuan Qiuhong, a girl with a slightly auspicious appearance, clearly came from a wealthy family. By wealthy, I don't mean those in the VIP rooms of the Chinese stock exchange, but rather those with a good family background and excellent manners. Usually, such families, or even extended families, don't become rich overnight. Perhaps Yuan Qiuhong didn't want others to notice this, but the plastic sheet she laid on her berth on the train, her posture, the way she held her teacup, and the slight furrow in her brow when she boarded the bus were enough for me to deduce her basic family background. Perhaps this young girl realized her own pampered nature and deliberately wanted to toughen herself up through this camping trip.

I feel it's necessary to clarify something here, lest some people misunderstand my description and think I'm a pervert who stares at young girls all the time. While I do take a good look at beautiful women—from their face to their chest, waist, hips, and legs, and perhaps even their head, neck, and hands—I am a normal man who considers himself to have a certain taste in beautiful women. Yuan Qiuhong isn't beautiful, but out of professional habit, I observe the details of those around me very carefully. And since experiencing some incredible events, this habit has become even more ingrained, because sometimes it saves my life.

In contrast to Yuan Qiuhong, another boy, Zhu Zili, with his slicked-back hair, made all sorts of pronouncements along the way, as if he were a know-it-all with a vast knowledge base. But to me, he seemed rather shallow, and many of his so-called observations were far removed from the facts I knew. Looking at the jade pendant around his neck—the jade was of good quality but the design was tacky—along with his Montblanc short-sleeved T-shirt and denim shorts of some unknown brand, and his unrestrained use of profanity, I could almost conclude that he came from a very wealthy family and had risen to prominence in this era. I wondered how well he had studied; based on all this, he seemed like just a rich young master with little substance.

The other three boys, Zhao Gang, Wang Fangyuan, and Lin Zhipu, and the girl, Jiang Wei, did not stand out at first glance and were not particularly noticeable.

To my slight surprise, a girl named Lu Yun and a boy named Guo Yonghua in the group seemed quite introverted. I had assumed that people participating in such activities, despite their various motives, would be more outgoing and lively. These two barely spoke the entire way and never joined anyone's conversation. When Guo Yonghua occasionally spoke, he stammered, not only appearing dull but also seemingly having a slight stutter. However, the others seemed used to this and didn't insist they join the conversation; it seemed this was their usual behavior.

The journey from Wuhan to Badong is about 300-400 kilometers, and it was already around 3 or 4 pm when we arrived. The cityscapes of Shanghai and Wuhan were vastly different, and from Wuhan to Badong, a small county town, the population gradually thinned out, the houses became more dilapidated, and the buildings grew increasingly simple and austere. Some students who had come to Shanghai from other provinces weren't particularly bothered, but several young people who had grown up in Shanghai couldn't help but sigh. Zhu Zili launched into another long-winded speech, saying that although the people in these places were extremely poor, they were inherently lazy and lacked ambition, perpetuating a cycle of poverty. He wondered when it would ever be possible for them to develop like Shanghai. While he sighed a few times about the plight of the locals, he showed no sympathy. Yuan Qiuhong, however, remained silent, but her focused eyes held a hint of pity.

I could tell Zhu Zili was trying to attract Liu Wenying's attention, or perhaps he wanted to attract the attention of all girls, but his remarks were rather bland. The differences between places, from history to the present, are complex factors, a subject of study even for scholars, and involving the similarities and differences in human nature, making them extremely difficult to summarize in a few words. However, Zhu Zili's eloquence and ability to develop such shallow arguments to such an extent might have fooled some naive young women.

Upon arriving in Badong, the original bus driver, unfamiliar with the mountain roads leading to Shennongjia, switched us to a long-distance bus for safety reasons. This bus was in much worse condition; the engine roared like thunder, making our legs go numb. However, it was said that the driver had been driving for thirty years without an accident, making him very reliable. As the bus lurched and lurched towards Shennongjia, the mountain roads steep, and sometimes with half a wheel suspended in mid-air at turns, I realized that the driver's thirty-year accident-free record was meaningless. Here, an accident could result in lifelong disability, so the drivers I saw must have never been in an accident. Most of the students had never experienced such a thrilling ride. When the bus turned, they would often stick their heads out, seeing half a wheel suspended over a sheer cliff, and gasp in unison. Some of the more timid girls didn't even dare to look, trying to shrink back to the side closest to the mountainside, fearing that if many people crowded to the other side, the bus would lose balance and plunge off the cliff.

Of the group, only Lu Yun was from Hubei. This quiet and introverted girl, with her clean-cut appearance, became more talkative, perhaps because she was back in her hometown, a far cry from her wooden demeanor on the train. She slowly recounted many strange and wonderful Hubei customs and traditions, which were quite interesting to listen to.

Abao (1) went to play in the Human Cave.

About an hour later, we arrived at Sanlitun Village. This is the starting point of our wilderness expedition. We will rest here for one night, and tomorrow morning, we will set off from here to traverse 300 kilometers of primeval forest over fifteen days to reach another village. Along the way, we will pass through five small settlements where we can replenish our food and water.

Adding weight to this expedition, and what thrilled He Yunkai, this tough guy, was that such a long wilderness expedition was almost unprecedented in the history of university student expeditions—without a local guide. In other words, whether the group of fourteen could emerge from the primeval forest depended entirely on themselves. Although everyone brought cell phones and other electronic devices, and Liang Yingwu even had a double-barreled shotgun borrowed locally, in this place where wild animals, rarely seen in modern society, reigned supreme, there was no guarantee of safety.

However, Liang Yingwu and I weren't worried. We had a detailed, officially printed map, and a university student expedition had also traversed the same route last year, drawing up a detailed map along the way. Liang Yingwu had a copy of that map, so there was no risk of getting lost. As for wild animals, generally speaking, carnivores won't attack humans unless they're extremely hungry, let alone such a large group. Even if something did happen, Liang Yingwu's hunting rifle was no joke.

Furthermore, although Liang Yingwu didn't say it, and I didn't ask, I don't believe that Liang Yingwu, coming from the X organization, wouldn't have one or two high-tech gadgets for protection. Even if he didn't, he would carry a communication tool that is safer and more reliable than a mobile phone. Therefore, not hiring a tour guide is just a means to increase the students' adventurous spirit.

The school had contacted Sanlitun Village beforehand regarding accommodation and food arrangements. As soon as the car arrived, the village chief and several elderly people were already waiting at the village entrance, along with a group of children and a few villagers. These elderly people were probably highly respected and held a high position in the village; their hair was white, and their faces were deeply lined. Compared to them, Liang Yingwu and I were just young lads, let alone the students. They must have been waiting for quite a while; I really felt bad about it.

It was getting late, and everyone was hungry after the long journey. The village chief knew this, and after a few pleasantries, he led us to the place where we would have dinner.

There was no restaurant in the village, but a bonfire had already been lit in a large open space in the center of the village. All kinds of wild game were skewered on iron forks, and the aroma of meat wafted over, making our eyes pop out and our mouths water.

There were no chairs; everyone sat on the ground. Besides the roasted meat, a variety of dishes were continuously brought in from all directions of the village. It seemed the village chief had already assigned tasks, and many villagers' homes were to cook together. I knew the school would definitely give the village some money; I estimated it wouldn't be a lot, but I believed it would be a considerable income for the village.

Unlike restaurants in Shanghai, the dishes here, though not as refined as those in big city hotels, and lacking in various seasonings, are all made from natural ingredients. They are all genuine wild game, the meat is a bit tougher and coarser, but it is fresh and fragrant. There is also a large pot of wild mushrooms freshly picked from the mountains, stir-fried with pheasant meat. The taste... Ah, even now, when I recall it, although I am about to encounter extremely strange and dangerous things, that dinner still makes my mouth water.

Thirty or forty villagers attended this "feast," a rare treat for them. Although wild game is often hunted near Shennongjia, it is usually sold at the market outside, and few are willing to eat it themselves.

During the meal, the villagers spoke a lot to us, but most of the time we couldn't understand them. Their heavily accented Mandarin sounded just like the local dialect in such a noisy environment, and we were too embarrassed to ask them to repeat themselves, so we just nodded and smiled to get by. However, looking at the students' side, Lu Yun seemed to understand some of what they said and started acting as a translator between the two sides. He Yunkai and Zhu Zili started drinking with the villagers. The liquor was homemade in the village, and the alcohol smell was very strong. After a few rounds, He Yunkai was already swaying, while Zhu Zili was still fine, which was quite surprising.

Someone asked where the best places to visit and what the scenery was like along this route. It seems that besides the adventure and challenges, everyone visiting Shennongjia also wants to experience the beauty of nature. So, several hunters who frequently travel in the mountains began to describe the terrain, pointing out streams, waterfalls, open areas, and secluded spots. They also shared several touching legends related to the scenery, mostly about love stories between men and women.

Suddenly, a clear, childlike voice said from the side, "There's a cave too!" The child's Mandarin was much more standard than the adults'.

I looked up at the sound and saw a boy of about six or seven years old, his mouth agape and his expression quite strange. Usually, when children mention a place, it's where they often play, but his expression now seemed a little panicked, as if he had just done something wrong.

"What is the Human Cave? Is it a cave? Is it fun?" Yuan Qiuhong asked him with a smile.

"Abao, what are you saying!" a burly man shouted. He stood up abruptly, strode over to Abao, grabbed him, and slapped him on the bottom with his other calloused hand. The other children nearby turned pale and didn't dare utter a word.

My brow furrowed. It wasn't because Abao had been beaten; that was their family matter, and I didn't want to interfere. Besides, Abao had only been hit a few times—how serious could a single mistake be? What struck me as odd was that Abao's father seemed somewhat tense as he hit him, the slaps landing one after another, more than ten times without stopping. Abao seemed dazed, neither crying nor uttering a single word.

Human Cave, what exactly is this place? It seems to be a taboo that cannot be mentioned.

"Stop hitting him! Stop hitting him! You'll hurt the child. Forget it, he didn't do anything wrong." Several girls couldn't stand it anymore and tried to stop him.

Abao (2) went to play in the Human Cave

"Tianjin, that's enough," the village chief said. Tianjin, Abao's father, heard this and slapped Abao three more times before finally putting him down. Abao's feet touched the ground, and he stared blankly for a moment before bursting into tears.

"Cry, what are you crying for? If you say something like that again, I'll break your legs," Abao's father shouted. A woman came out from the side, who looked like Abao's mother, and pulled Abao away.

I glanced at Liang Yingwu. This "human cave" seemed to be more than it appeared. Since the villagers were so superstitious about it, it was best not to ask.

But the college students didn't think that much about it; they all felt that the matter was strange and were full of curiosity.

"Excuse me, what kind of place is this 'human cave'?" He Yunkai asked.

"This..." The village chief looked troubled. After thinking for a moment, he said, "The child is talking nonsense. Actually, there's nothing fun about this place."

"If Abao says that, it means he goes out to play often. How come there's nothing fun to do?" The young man asked without any restraint; it was Liu Wenying who said this. But come to think of it, I'm also considered young, but the psychological gap between us and these college students is really huge. This might be related to some strange experiences I've had before; surviving a few brushes with death makes even the young mature quickly.