Chapter One: Water Floods the Mountains, Doubt Clouds the Path

“Alright, from today summer vacation officially begins. You’re free to arrange your own holiday life, I hope everyone will…”

As their homeroom teacher, Mr. Zhu, swayed his hefty behind out of the classroom, the once-quiet atmosphere of Class 3, Grade 11, at Huangjiang Experimental High School erupted into chaos. Scrap paper and books flew through the air, girls clustered in groups, chattering and making plans for outings, while the boys were up to all sorts of mischief—cleaning their noses, roughhousing, ripping up books, seizing the last day to flirt, or simply sitting around in a daze.

“Hey, pretty boy, what are you daydreaming about?” Yu Xiaowei nudged his desk mate, Liu Yunfei, with his elbow.

Liu Yunfei had a fair, handsome face, slightly arched sword-like brows, a straight nose, and lips neither too thin nor too full—a refined kind of handsome that earned him the nickname “Pretty Boy.”

“Careful there, Little Fish Tail, don’t jab so hard. If you ruin my kidneys, you can’t afford to pay for it,” Liu Yunfei snapped back.

“What are you worried about, Pretty Boy? You make a living off your looks, not your kidneys. Besides, the kidney tonic is good for both of us, right? Vacation’s here—where do you want to go?” Yu Xiaowei teased.

“So you make a living with your kidneys, huh? Fine, since your fish tail grows in front,” Liu Yunfei replied with a lewd smirk.

“And yours grows at the back?” Yu Xiaowei, ever the rascal, instantly caught his drift.

“What’s all this talk about tails in front and back?” Unbeknownst to them, vice class monitor Zhang Juan was already standing at their desk.

Liu Yunfei’s face flushed, but he quickly composed himself, adopting a look of righteous indignation. “That’s a deep topic. Maybe you and your man, Yu Xiaowei, can study it thoroughly one lonely night or in the quiet hours of midnight.” There was no point in pretending—everyone knew Yu Xiaowei and Zhang Juan were dating.

Zhang Juan, no fool, knew exactly where the conversation had gone. She swung her heavy bag at Liu Yunfei. “Liu the Lecher!”

“Haha, I’m outta here!” Liu Yunfei, having expected this, grabbed his bag and darted away before Zhang Juan could land a blow.

Yu Xiaowei, not finished with the conversation, stood up and shouted, “Hey, Zhang Juan and I are going to Xiaoyang Mountain—want to come? I’ll call you!”

“Okay,” Liu Yunfei replied without turning his head, though he was secretly annoyed: That fatso’s dragging me along to be a third wheel again. Back in junior high, I was way more popular than him, and he used to be my dedicated wingman.

Liu Yunfei and Yu Xiaowei were the closest of classmates. Not only did they live near each other, but they’d attended the same schools, and always ended up in the same class. Even in high school, they were somehow still desk mates. Liu Yunfei had matured early—by junior high, he was tall and good-looking, the heartthrob of half the girls in class, with the other half harboring at least a passing fondness for him. Girls from other classes often stole glances at him too.

But as fate would have it, Liu Yunfei stopped growing at 170 centimeters—a shortcoming likely due to an early growth spurt, he’d joke. Meanwhile, after one summer, the once-chubby Yu Xiaowei shot up and filled out, and with a father who was a bureau chief and a generous allowance, Yu Xiaowei, once overlooked, suddenly became the new heartthrob. The “has-been” Liu Yunfei faded into the background.

“If only I’d seized the moment back then,” Liu Yunfei muttered as he pedaled home.

Back in the day, he’d been surrounded by girls’ affections but only had eyes for Wu Jiangya, a girl in their class. Her name was awkward, she wasn’t the school belle, and her heart was notoriously fickle, but Liu Yunfei gave up the whole forest for that one tree. She never made the school beauty rankings, but she topped the school’s “Most Fickle Girl” list for three years. Their relationship didn’t even last a semester before she dumped him.

Some said it wasn’t Wu Jiangya’s fault—Liu Yunfei was too timid, never daring to make a move, not the sort of guy modern girls liked. But Liu Yunfei always thought, “It’s not that I didn’t want to make a move, I just never had the chance. We were in junior high—didn’t anyone teach you about the Juvenile Protection Law?” Not that he’d studied it himself, of course.

For Liu Yunfei, it was still his first love—the one that’s hardest to forget. He graduated junior high with good grades and went on to a regular high school, while Wu Jiangya, with her poor grades, attended a vocational school her family paid for. Even after two years at different schools and no contact, Liu Yunfei couldn’t get over her, which was why he never dated anyone else.

Summer vacation was uneventful. Liu Yunfei finished his homework in just two days. His grades were above average, though he never studied seriously—his wit always kept him in the top ten. The rest of his time he spent online gaming. People are strange—while at school, you long for vacation, but once it starts, you soon wish for school again. Perhaps life is just one big besieged city.

One afternoon, with his family out, Liu Yunfei was about to secretly explore what Japanese youth do to kill boredom, when his phone rang.

“What is it?” He saw it was Yu Xiaowei and answered irritably. Why couldn’t he call a little later? He’d just been getting into the mood.

“Hey, Pretty Boy? Zhang Juan and I are going to Xiaoyang Mountain tomorrow—come with us!” Yu Xiaowei invited enthusiastically.

“Sure, why not.” Liu Yunfei was bored anyway.

“Want me to invite Wu Jiangya for you?” Yu Xiaowei’s voice, tinged with mischief, came through the phone.

Liu Yunfei put down his phone with a sigh. “Who knows which guy she’s having fun with now…”

The next day, Liu Yunfei got up early and arrived at the foot of Xiaoyang Mountain as planned.

Huangjiang, where Liu Yunfei lived, sat close to the Yangtze River and was just over three hours’ drive from Shanghai. The region’s landscape was mostly rolling hills, so though Xiaoyang Mountain in the suburbs wasn’t very high or steep, it covered a large area. The scenery was beautiful, with portions of untouched forest—a vast oxygen bar. From the summit, you could overlook all of Huangjiang, your heart instantly opening wide. It was the perfect retreat for city dwellers, and a favorite among road-trippers from Shanghai, Nanjing, and nearby cities.

Xiaoyang Mountain was an extinct volcano, its last eruption 140 million years ago, and home to East China’s unique volcanic hot springs. The planned Yangshan Taoyuan Hot Spring Resort was set in the eco-tourism zone on the eastern side of Yangshan Town, covering 500 acres. To the south lay a developing provincial geological park; to the north, picturesque Yangshan Lake and Chaoyang Zen Temple faced the resort across Taoyuan Road. The third-century geothermal springs held 8 billion cubic meters of water, with a daily outflow of 500 tons at about 45 degrees Celsius, clear and rich in lithium, strontium, zinc, metasilicic acid, and other minerals and trace elements—rare domestic health-promoting hot springs.

Xiaoyang Mountain boasted 77 geological sites: 18 rock and mineral landscapes, 8 caves, 11 bodies of water, and 6 striking stone formations, each unique and renowned among poets and scholars.

The slopes were gentle, so the three of them rode their bikes to the top, chatting and laughing after days of being cooped up at home. Tired from the ride, they rested on a large rock. Watching Yu Xiaowei and Zhang Juan snuggle, Liu Yunfei felt he’d fulfilled his role as third wheel and suggested, “Hey, since we’re out here, why not explore the forest a bit instead of just sticking to the path? After all, a path is only made when people walk it. I’ll go blaze a new trail.” Truth be told, he needed to pee and wanted to find a secluded spot.

Yu Xiaowei and Zhang Juan were only too happy to let him go.

“No loyalty when love’s involved,” Liu Yunfei joked, locked his bike, and disappeared into the woods, soon out of sight and, not that it mattered, out of mind for the lovebirds.

Finding a towering tree, Liu Yunfei relieved himself. “Consider this fertilizer for the tree,” he chuckled, then wandered alone through the forest, savoring the freedom of solitary travel.

But as he walked, the forest grew denser, the light dimmer, and before he realized it, he was lost. Surrounded by ancient trees with no sense of direction, he didn’t panic at first, buoyed by his good mood.

When he finally realized he was lost, anxiety crept in. Had he wandered into the primeval forest? With no other option, he tried retracing his steps. After a while, he heard the sound of rushing water ahead. The closer he got, the louder it became. Emerging from the trees, he saw a waterfall pouring from above.

It truly seemed to fall from the heavens—not because the mountain was tall, but because the waterfall appeared out of nowhere, crashing onto a massive blue-stone slab. A cool breeze carried fine droplets, refreshing in the summer heat.

Liu Yunfei relished the moment, regretting not bringing his phone to capture the rare scenery.

After a while, the cold made him shiver; goosebumps rose on his skin. He followed the stream formed by the waterfall, remembering a tip from a book that said if lost, one should follow water.

And so, Liu Yunfei continued his journey, uncertain what awaited him next in this unexpected adventure.