The night was dark, the wind high, and the mountain forest was far from still. Small creatures rustled in the roadside underbrush, darting and hiding. The occasional snake that slithered across our path did its best to fray our nerves. In the beam of my headlamp, I saw a fine spiderweb stretched between a few low shrubs, dotted with strange, contorted insects.

　　“Should be close now!” After a few more course corrections, Young Master Feng checked the altitude on his watch, estimating we were near the halfway point up the mountainside. The spotlight beam from below continued its guiding sweep, soon illuminating a cliff face.

　　I looked up. The cliff was at least four or five meters high—it hadn’t looked like much from below, but up close it was a sheer wall, impossible to simply scramble over.

　　“There’s no way around!” I searched in vain for a detour.

　　“Stop looking. We’re going over.” Young Master Feng’s eyes scanned the rock, quickly plotting a route. He switched his headlamp to flood mode and told me to use my spotlight to illuminate the ground for him.

　　“Don’t! Free soloing at night? Way too dangerous!”

　　Without another word, Young Master Feng crouched, took a few quick steps, and launched himself at the wall. His foot found a hold, his hand grabbed a protruding rock, and in one fluid motion he was over two meters up! Combined with his own height of over six feet, he was nearly at the top. The whole sequence was so fluid it left me stunned.

　　“Hinson, light up!”

　　“Oh, right!” I quickly aimed my beam higher, only to see the top of the cliff featured a small overhang—a “roof.”

　　Young Master Feng paused briefly, seemingly searching for his next handhold.

　　I watched from below, anxious but afraid to make a sound and break his focus.

　　A mountain gust swept through, rustling the treetops. Young Master Feng coiled his body, eyes locked on the overhang. As the wind died, he pushed off hard with his legs, launching himself upward. His arms reached high, fingers hooking and finding a solid purchase in a crack! He then engaged his core, using the momentum of his swing to bring his legs up, clamping his feet onto a protruding rock. His body formed a stable, inverted “L” shape beneath the roof!

　　“Be careful!” I couldn’t help but cry out.

　　He seemed not to hear. His toes sought new pressure, shifting his weight bit by bit. Finding the right angle, he didn’t hesitate—one hand reached for the next crimp, a thumb-sized edge, while his long leg stretched to a distant foothold. With a powerful contraction of his abs, he levered his torso upward, and his other hand found a solid grip on the top of the cliff!

　　The audacity of the move had my palms sweating and my heart hammering! Suddenly, a few small rocks clattered down, nearly hitting my face. I dodged, and as I did, I heard a fierce grunt from above. Young Master Feng powered through the last move, hauling the upper half of his body onto the cliff top!

　　“Holy crap, that was insane!” Witnessing such an impressive free solo feat firsthand, I couldn’t help but applaud.

　　A moment later, a rope tumbled down the cliff face. Young Master Feng instructed me on tying a secure knot, had me fasten the rope around my waist, and then taught me the basic technique: grip the rope, step up with my feet against the wall, and “walk vertically” upwards. But with zero climbing experience, I had no concept of proper technique. I just muscled my way up with brute force, which left me completely stalled under the overhang. Frustrated, Young Master Feng had no choice but to haul me up the rest of the way, exhausting both of us in the process.

　　Just then, the spotlight from below swept three slow circles—our prearranged signal that the target was very close.

　　I took a few deep breaths to steady myself, pulled a whistle from my pack, and gave two sharp blasts. Soon, a faint responding whistle sounded nearby.

　　“Hear that?” I perked up my ears. The sound was weak, as if the person blowing it had little strength left.

　　“This way!” Young Master Feng hurried toward the sound, and the spotlight beam from below began moving more urgently.

　　“Help me…” The faint plea came from right beside us. I turned, looking, but saw nothing at first.

　　“Here!” The figure managed a weak wave. I finally saw a human-shaped outline half-lying under a tree. His headlamp was completely dead, dangling uselessly from a branch.

　　“Found him!” I shouted.

　　Young Master Feng arrived, and we both checked the man’s condition.

　　“Seriously, buddy, what’s with the camo?” Young Master Feng set down his small pack, a mix of amusement and exasperation on his face. “Trying to make yourself harder to spot?”

　　“Help me…” ‘Camouflage Guy’ clearly wasn’t in the mood for commentary. He just clutched at my sleeve, begging us not to leave him.

　　“Don’t worry, we’re here to get you down!”

　　I then carefully examined him. He wasn’t in terrible shape—the main issues were a sprained ankle and complete exhaustion, plus some minor scrapes and bruises we could treat on the spot.

　　“You’re okay. Eat something.” I handed him some chocolate and beef jerky and dug out the first-aid kit to clean his wounds. Young Master Feng, meanwhile, signaled the successful find to the guesthouse owner.

　　“Water…” Camouflage Guy licked his lips, his voice trembling and hoarse.

　　“Grab your ID, phone, any critical items. Leave everything else. You can come back for it later.” Young Master Feng set the man’s large pack on the ground, letting him sort through it.

　　Camouflage Guy seemed to want to argue but thought better of it and complied. His ankle was badly swollen; he couldn’t walk. A two-person carry for one victim was already pushing it—we couldn’t possibly manage his 20+ pounds of gear on top of that.

　　With the essentials gathered, Young Master Feng and I positioned ourselves on either side to help him up. But Young Master Feng was a head taller than me, making our efforts clumsy and uncoordinated. We had to set him back down. As we were puzzling over the best method, something bumped into my calf. I looked down to see a fuzzy little wild boar piglet, toppled over beside my leg, squealing and squirming.

　　“Aww, it’s so cute!” I picked up the furry little thing, letting it wriggle and root against my chest.

　　“Put it down! Now!” Young Master Feng yelled, frantic. “It’ll call for its parents!”

　　Before the words had fully left his mouth, a sound of rapid, heavy movement came from the bushes—like a group of small tanks charging toward us.

　　“We’re dead.” My heart sank. Instantly, a sounder of wild boars burst from the undergrowth, surrounding the three of us.

　　“Let it go!” Young Master Feng shouted.

　　“Don’t you dare!” Camouflage Guy suddenly yelled, stopping me. “It’s a hostage! Don’t let it go!”

　　“Huh? A hostage?” I looked at the struggling piglet in my arms, unsure who to listen to.

　　“Lift it up! Higher! If the herd attacks, you take the hostage out!” Camouflage Guy’s energy was coming back fast—he was loud and clear now.

　　“Take it out, my ass!” Young Master Feng swore. “Shut the hell up if you don’t know what you’re talking about! You harm that piglet today, and they’ll tear all three of us to pieces!”

　　I scanned the circle. The boars glared with menace, tusks bared, grunting fiercely. Their formation looked loose, but the moment we tried to breach the line, one would charge forward with angry snorts, herding us back into the “pen” like farmers corralling livestock. What goes around comes around.

　　“Let. It. Go!” Young Master Feng screamed at me, voice ragged.

　　“Okay, okay… Sir Pigs! And, uh, Ma’am Pigs! I’m sorry! I’m giving your baby back!” With that, I gently set the piglet down. It squealed and scurried over to a large sow, its little curly tail wagging. It looked soft and adorable, utterly unlike the vicious adult boars surrounding us.

　　“You idiot!” Camouflage Guy cursed. “They won’t just let us go that easily!”

　　He was right. The boars showed no sign of backing off. Down below, the spotlight beam swept anxiously back and forth around our position. The guesthouse owner wasn’t getting a response and was growing worried.

　　The night was dark, the wind high, and the mountain forest was far from still. Small creatures rustled in the roadside underbrush, darting and hiding. The occasional snake that slithered across our path did its best to fray our nerves. In the beam of my headlamp, I saw a fine spiderweb stretched between a few low shrubs, dotted with strange, contorted insects.

　　“Should be close now!” After a few more course corrections, Young Master Feng checked the altitude on his watch, estimating we were near the halfway point up the mountainside. The spotlight beam from below continued its guiding sweep, soon illuminating a cliff face.

　　I looked up. The cliff was at least four or five meters high—it hadn’t looked like much from below, but up close it was a sheer wall, impossible to simply scramble over.

　　“There’s no way around!” I searched in vain for a detour.

　　“Stop looking. We’re going over.” Young Master Feng’s eyes scanned the rock, quickly plotting a route. He switched his headlamp to flood mode and told me to use my spotlight to illuminate the ground for him.

　　“Don’t! Free soloing at night? Way too dangerous!”

　　Without another word, Young Master Feng crouched, took a few quick steps, and launched himself at the wall. His foot found a hold, his hand grabbed a protruding rock, and in one fluid motion he was over two meters up! Combined with his own height of over six feet, he was nearly at the top. The whole sequence was so fluid it left me stunned.

　　“Hinson, light up!”

　　“Oh, right!” I quickly aimed my beam higher, only to see the top of the cliff featured a small overhang—a “roof.”

　　Young Master Feng paused briefly, seemingly searching for his next handhold.

　　I watched from below, anxious but afraid to make a sound and break his focus.

　　A mountain gust swept through, rustling the treetops. Young Master Feng coiled his body, eyes locked on the overhang. As the wind died, he pushed off hard with his legs, launching himself upward. His arms reached high, fingers hooking and finding a solid purchase in a crack! He then engaged his core, using the momentum of his swing to bring his legs up, clamping his feet onto a protruding rock. His body formed a stable, inverted “L” shape beneath the roof!

　　“Be careful!” I couldn’t help but cry out.

　　He seemed not to hear. His toes sought new pressure, shifting his weight bit by bit. Finding the right angle, he didn’t hesitate—one hand reached for the next crimp, a thumb-sized edge, while his long leg stretched to a distant foothold. With a powerful contraction of his abs, he levered his torso upward, and his other hand found a solid grip on the top of the cliff!

　　The audacity of the move had my palms sweating and my heart hammering! Suddenly, a few small rocks clattered down, nearly hitting my face. I dodged, and as I did, I heard a fierce grunt from above. Young Master Feng powered through the last move, hauling the upper half of his body onto the cliff top!

　　“Holy crap, that was insane!” Witnessing such an impressive free solo feat firsthand, I couldn’t help but applaud.

　　A moment later, a rope tumbled down the cliff face. Young Master Feng instructed me on tying a secure knot, had me fasten the rope around my waist, and then taught me the basic technique: grip the rope, step up with my feet against the wall, and “walk vertically” upwards. But with zero climbing experience, I had no concept of proper technique. I just muscled my way up with brute force, which left me completely stalled under the overhang. Frustrated, Young Master Feng had no choice but to haul me up the rest of the way, exhausting both of us in the process.

　　Just then, the spotlight from below swept three slow circles—our prearranged signal that the target was very close.

　　I took a few deep breaths to steady myself, pulled a whistle from my pack, and gave two sharp blasts. Soon, a faint responding whistle sounded nearby.

　　“Hear that?” I perked up my ears. The sound was weak, as if the person blowing it had little strength left.

　　“This way!” Young Master Feng hurried toward the sound, and the spotlight beam from below began moving more urgently.

　　“Help me…” The faint plea came from right beside us. I turned, looking, but saw nothing at first.

　　“Here!” The figure managed a weak wave. I finally saw a human-shaped outline half-lying under a tree. His headlamp was completely dead, dangling uselessly from a branch.

　　“Found him!” I shouted.

　　Young Master Feng arrived, and we both checked the man’s condition.

　　“Seriously, buddy, what’s with the camo?” Young Master Feng set down his small pack, a mix of amusement and exasperation on his face. “Trying to make yourself harder to spot?”

　　“Help me…” ‘Camouflage Guy’ clearly wasn’t in the mood for commentary. He just clutched at my sleeve, begging us not to leave him.

　　“Don’t worry, we’re here to get you down!”

　　I then carefully examined him. He wasn’t in terrible shape—the main issues were a sprained ankle and complete exhaustion, plus some minor scrapes and bruises we could treat on the spot.

　　“You’re okay. Eat something.” I handed him some chocolate and beef jerky and dug out the first-aid kit to clean his wounds. Young Master Feng, meanwhile, signaled the successful find to the guesthouse owner.

　　“Water…” Camouflage Guy licked his lips, his voice trembling and hoarse.

　　“Grab your ID, phone, any critical items. Leave everything else. You can come back for it later.” Young Master Feng set the man’s large pack on the ground, letting him sort through it.

　　Camouflage Guy seemed to want to argue but thought better of it and complied. His ankle was badly swollen; he couldn’t walk. A two-person carry for one victim was already pushing it—we couldn’t possibly manage his 20+ pounds of gear on top of that.

　　With the essentials gathered, Young Master Feng and I positioned ourselves on either side to help him up. But Young Master Feng was a head taller than me, making our efforts clumsy and uncoordinated. We had to set him back down. As we were puzzling over the best method, something bumped into my calf. I looked down to see a fuzzy little wild boar piglet, toppled over beside my leg, squealing and squirming.

　　“Aww, it’s so cute!” I picked up the furry little thing, letting it wriggle and root against my chest.

　　“Put it down! Now!” Young Master Feng yelled, frantic. “It’ll call for its parents!”

　　Before the words had fully left his mouth, a sound of rapid, heavy movement came from the bushes—like a group of small tanks charging toward us.

　　“We’re dead.” My heart sank. Instantly, a sounder of wild boars burst from the undergrowth, surrounding the three of us.

　　“Let it go!” Young Master Feng shouted.

　　“Don’t you dare!” Camouflage Guy suddenly yelled, stopping me. “It’s a hostage! Don’t let it go!”

　　“Huh? A hostage?” I looked at the struggling piglet in my arms, unsure who to listen to.

　　“Lift it up! Higher! If the herd attacks, you take the hostage out!” Camouflage Guy’s energy was coming back fast—he was loud and clear now.

　　“Take it out, my ass!” Young Master Feng swore. “Shut the hell up if you don’t know what you’re talking about! You harm that piglet today, and they’ll tear all three of us to pieces!”

　　I scanned the circle. The boars glared with menace, tusks bared, grunting fiercely. Their formation looked loose, but the moment we tried to breach the line, one would charge forward with angry snorts, herding us back into the “pen” like farmers corralling livestock. What goes around comes around.

　　“Let. It. Go!” Young Master Feng screamed at me, voice ragged.

　　“Okay, okay… Sir Pigs! And, uh, Ma’am Pigs! I’m sorry! I’m giving your baby back!” With that, I gently set the piglet down. It squealed and scurried over to a large sow, its little curly tail wagging. It looked soft and adorable, utterly unlike the vicious adult boars surrounding us.

　　“You idiot!” Camouflage Guy cursed. “They won’t just let us go that easily!”

　　He was right. The boars showed no sign of backing off. Down below, the spotlight beam swept anxiously back and forth around our position. The guesthouse owner wasn’t getting a response and was growing worried.