In order to ensure that we wouldn’t get lost in the deep mountains and forests, over the course of three years, I equipped each of them with a GPS system. To help identify the local flora, fauna, and minerals, I gave each of the three a laptop, preloaded with comprehensive animal, plant, and mineral encyclopedias. Of course, there was also a GPS global positioning map. Considering the limited battery life of the laptops, we even brought along two solar chargers, one of which could be converted into a solar stove at any time—this was also to avoid making fires in the forest. At the same time, to guard against GPS failure, we learned how to use a sextant and a watch to determine latitude and longitude. And in case the quartz watches malfunctioned, I also provided each of them with a brand-name fully automatic mechanical watch.

Perhaps someone might ask why I went to such great lengths for them. The reason is simple: one person alone can’t handle an expedition into the deep mountains. It’s rare to have a few people willing to go with me—if I didn’t make good use of them, wouldn’t I be a fool?

Years later, after drinking too much, I let slip the answer to this long-standing mystery in their minds. In return, they waved their arms adorned with fully automatic gold watches and beat me, their big brother, black and blue, all the while shouting, “We’ve boarded a pirate ship.”

They never stopped to think how eager they were for this trip back then.

Ah, it’s hard to be a good person!

As the three-year agreement drew to a close, I found it harder and harder to contain my excitement. In my heart, there was always a voice quietly whispering, “The time has come. Are you ready?”

Whenever this happened, my usually calm self would get so excited that my hands would tremble, and I couldn’t help but pace rapidly around the office, waving my fists in the air.

At such times, Little Grace outside the office suite would always watch me with a melancholy gaze and say, “The Boss, are you in love? Is it with me? I’ve been with you for three years now.”

Yes, I am in love. Unfortunately, it’s not with you. I love that land and water, those mysterious mountains, those mysterious forests. I am about to meet my beloved, and how could my heart not surge with excitement? How could I not be overwhelmed? For this moment, I have prepared for three years; I have waited a lifetime. My beloved, I am coming.

Three years have passed, and I must say our fitness plan was perfect. Those three people who suffered under my training can now handle two or three grown men barehanded without a problem. If they use equipment, I think two of them could even take on a bear. This ensures that as long as they don’t get separated, they won’t end up as captives. As for carrying heavy loads, walking 30 kilometers with 50 kilograms on their backs is no problem. Although this doesn’t quite match the record of American soldiers in the Afghan war—an average load of 72.3 kilograms over 40 kilometers—it’s close to the Korean War record of 60.1 kilograms over 30 kilometers, and at least better than most overweight police officers.

In July 2003, I returned to Shennongjia to order medicinal herbs. With a plan in mind, I placed an order for $1.2 million and paid 70% upfront. My excuse was: we’ve done business for years, and besides, you all have families—I hardly think you’ll run off to the ends of the earth. Overjoyed, the mountain folk insisted on treating me to a feast of local wild game, and I, secretly delighted, agreed after a token refusal.

Before the meal began, I solemnly declared to them: I was born into a scholarly family, raised with traditional values, and I absolutely do not eat rare animals. This statement was not only to announce my personal principles, but also so that when I made requests of them later, they would remember my words and have no misgivings. The banquet began amid the clinking of glasses.

Halfway through the drinking, they started talking about some of the medicinal herbs I was purchasing this time, including one called “fish lice” from the Officially Sealed Fish Cave. The Officially Sealed Fish Cave is hidden among the green trees and shrubs of Shennongjia, not easily discovered. The water flow inside the cave is great and never runs dry. Where does the water come from? How long is its course? To this day, it remains a mystery. According to local legend, the water in this cave comes from Mount Emei, traveling thousands of miles, arriving with an immortal’s aura and leaving with a celestial air. No one knows from what era or century it began, but after the first spring thunder, the Officially Sealed Fish Cave starts to produce fish. When people notice the water at the cave entrance turning from clear to yellow and then turbid, the fish soon appear. At this time, the mountain folk, already prepared with dippers, baskets, and bags, rush from all directions, standing, crowding, shouting, and jostling in the water and on the banks, all eyes fixed on the cave entrance. If it’s nighttime, hundreds of torches blaze, illuminating the river at the cave mouth as bright as day. When the water at the entrance becomes completely muddy, schools of fish, each about the length of a chopstick (weighing about a pound), scaleless, shell-less, and pure white like silver, begin to appear, wagging their heads and tails. People shout and scoop with dippers, fish with baskets, grab with their hands, and block with bags... At the peak, a single dipper can scoop up three to five pounds! In no time, everyone’s buckets, basins, and baskets are filled to the brim.