Chen Siyao walked across the beach and glanced back—the yacht was still sitting out on the sea, and the captain stood on deck, peering their way through binoculars, his mouth open wide enough to fit an egg.
She looked away and followed Chen Hao. At the end of the beach, a stone stairway led into the island's wooded hills.
Moss covered the steps. Tall, dense trees lined both sides, their branches and leaves blotting out the sky. Only a few shafts of sunlight slipped through the gaps, casting dappled shadows on the ground.
A faint fragrance hung in the air: flowers, grass, and something impossible to describe that made them feel deeply at ease.
Chen Siyao took a deep breath and walked ahead with her phone raised. Xiao Yue ran at the very front, her little paws pattering against the stone steps, her tail held high like a tiny flag.
Chen Hao walked at the rear, his gaze passing through the canopy to the peak at the island's highest point. The aura there felt somewhat familiar. Jingwei, it's been a long time.
As the Jingwei expedition grew increasingly popular, researchers of the Classic of Mountains and Seas and historians flooded into the livestream. Comments flew across the screen:
[No Food Deliveries]: They're on the island! Finally!
[Yaoyao's Little Red Riding Hood]: Is this where Jingwei lives? It looks so mysterious.
[Fan Lin]: Look at those trees. Are their leaves purple? What species are they?
Chen Siyao had noticed too. The plants on the island were completely unlike anything she had seen outside.
The bark was neither brown nor gray, but blue-gray, with a faint silvery sheen, as though it had been steeped in moonlight.
Purple, blue, and dark red leaves overlapped, weaving a colorful dome overhead. Unfamiliar ferns grew on