Yuanjia Village, a small mountain village located at the junction of Hunan and Guizhou, is currently bathing in the twilight of May 2026.
The afterglow of the setting sun dyed the rolling hills behind the village golden red. In the terraced fields at the foot of the mountains, several farmers were walking slowly home with hoes on their shoulders. Under the five-hundred-year-old locust tree at the entrance of the village, a few old people shook their cattail fans and chatted about old sesame seeds and rotten millet. In the distance, newly built two-story buildings are dotted among the old traditional wooden houses, and solar street lights are neatly arranged along the newly built cement road - this is the most intuitive change brought by the rural revitalization policy to this remote mountain village.
Everything seemed calm and peaceful, even a little ordinary.
But I know that beneath this calmness lies a secret that is unimaginable to the outside world.
My name is Yuan Qingzhou, I am twenty-four years old and a native of Yuanjia Village. I studied archeology in college in the provincial capital. After graduation, I rejected my tutor's suggestion to stay in school for postgraduate studies, and also rejected the job opportunity at the provincial museum and returned to the village.
