I was a rookie reporter in the 00s

Zhang Wanqing and Fu Siyuan embark on a journey to find the "Hidden Spring". They know that this is not only an adventure, but also a race against time. In the night, their figures shuttle through the narrow streets until they disappear in the shadows of the antique shop.

Zhang Wanqing sat in the bumpy jeep, clutching the yellowed map tightly in her hands, her eyes darting back and forth between the markings and text on the map. The "Hidden Spring" on the map was marked in a remote mountainous area, a place rarely visited by people, and only a few explorers and historians had ever set foot there.

"The 'Hidden Spring' we are looking for is said to be a mysterious water source hidden in the mountains." Zhang Wanqing's voice echoed in the car, her eyes flashing with a desire for the unknown.

Fu Siyuan drove the jeep, his eyes determined, his hands gripping the steering wheel. "If the Mohist legacy is truly hidden there, then we must be careful," he said in a low voice, a subtle hint of nervousness.

As the car drove away from the city, the surrounding scenery gradually became desolate. The trees on both sides of the road became sparser, replaced by bare rocks and dry riverbeds. Zhang Wanqing and Fu Siyuan could both sense that they were approaching an ancient and mysterious place.

After several hours of bumpy ride, they finally reached the mountainous area marked on the map. The clouds in the sky were growing thicker, foreshadowing an impending storm. Zhang Wanqing and Fu Siyuan loaded their gear and began hiking into the mountains.

Their footsteps echoed across the rugged mountain road, each step proving exceedingly difficult. Zhang Wanqing frequently checked the map in her hand to ensure they hadn't strayed from their path. Fu Siyuan, on the other hand, observed his surroundings warily. His intuition told him that this place wasn't as simple as it appeared.

Suddenly, Fu Siyuan stopped, his eyes fixed on a patch of gravel ahead. "Wait, something's wrong," he said in a low, warning voice.

Zhang Wanqing immediately became alert, her eyes also falling on the rubble. In the dim light, the arrangement of the rubble seemed to conceal some kind of pattern. She approached cautiously, trying to discern the arrangement of the rubble.

"This is a trap set by the ancestors of the Mohist school." There was a hint of surprise in Zhang Wanqing's voice, and her eyes flashed with respect for the wisdom of her ancestors.

Fu Siyuan nodded, his eyes wandering among the surrounding rocks and trees, searching for possible clues. "We need to find a way through."

They began to carefully observe their surroundings, searching for possible mechanisms and clues. As time went on, the clouds in the sky grew thicker and thicker, and thunder roared in the distance, as if urging them to speed up.

Zhang Wanqing's gaze finally fell on a strangely shaped rock. Engraved on it were some bizarre symbols that bore a striking resemblance to those in the diary. She carefully touched the symbols, and suddenly, the rock slowly shifted, revealing a hidden passage.

"We found it." There was a hint of excitement in Zhang Wanqing's voice, but more of nervousness.

Fu Siyuan nodded, his eyes roaming around the passage to make sure there were no more traps. "Let's go."

They walked into the passage cautiously, taking every step with extreme caution. The air in the passage was damp and cold, and the walls were covered with moss, giving off an ancient and mysterious atmosphere.

As they went deeper into the tunnel, the light around them grew dimmer and dimmer, until it was completely pitch black. Zhang Wanqing turned on the flashlight, and a faint beam of light flickered in the darkness, illuminating the path ahead.

Their footsteps echoed in the passage, and each echo seemed to remind them that they were approaching an ancient secret.

After a long walk, they finally reached the end of the passage. A faint light shone from the front, accompanied by the sound of gurgling water. Zhang Wanqing and Fu Siyuan exchanged a glance and knew they had found the "Hidden Spring."

They emerged from the passageway and found themselves in a cave hidden within the mountain. In the center of the cavern was a clear pool of water, its surface shimmering with a faint blue light. The walls surrounding the pool were covered in strange symbols, identical to those found in the diary and letter.

Zhang Wanqing and Fu Siyuan approached the pool cautiously, their eyes fixed on the symbols that not only recorded the history of their Mohist ancestors but also held clues to their legacy.

They began to decipher the symbols, each one like a key, gradually revealing the secrets of the Mohist legacy. As they deciphered, the water in the pool began to ripple, triggering an ancient mechanism. The bottom of the pool slowly opened, revealing a hidden stone chamber.

Inside the stone chamber were ancient objects, including precious antiques and books, which were the legacy left by the ancestors of the Mohist school. Zhang Wanqing and Fu Siyuan's hearts beat faster, knowing that they had found a treasure.

However, just as they were about to enter the stone chamber, the cave entrance was suddenly blocked by a group of men in black. The leading man sneered at them, his eyes revealing greed and cruelty. This man was the same one who had suddenly broken into the antique shop before, and he had secretly followed them.

"You have found the legacy of the Mohist School. Now, they belong to us." The man's voice echoed in the cave with a hint of threat.

Zhang Wanqing's eyes quickly scanned the cave, her heart pounding in her chest like a war drum. She could sense the murderous aura emanating from the men in black. Their eyes were greedy and cold, clearly not going to let them go easily.

Fu Siyuan stood beside Zhang Wanqing, his body tense, ready for the coming battle. In his hand, he clutched a sharp stone pried from the cave wall, the best weapon he could find.

The leader of the men in black slowly walked into the cave. His steps were steady and powerful, each one a statement of authority. His gaze swept over Zhang Wanqing and Fu Siyuan, a sneer curling up at the corner of his mouth.

"Hand over the legacy of the Mohist School, and I can give you a quick death." His voice was low and hoarse, carrying an unquestionable command.

Zhang Wanqing took a deep breath. Her voice was calm but firm: "The legacy of the Mohist School does not belong to you, nor will it fall into your hands."

The leader's face darkened, and a hint of murderous intent flashed in his eyes: "Then don't blame me for being rude."

Before he finished speaking, the men in black swarmed towards Zhang Wanqing and Fu Siyuan. Fu Siyuan immediately rushed forward, his agility swift, the stone in his hand drawing sharp arcs in the air. Zhang Wanqing, on the other hand, used the rocks and narrow space in the cave to nimbly dodge the men in black's attacks.

The battle raged within the cave, each swing and dodge filled with the tension of a life-or-death struggle. Though her heart was tense, Zhang Wanqing's mind remained remarkably clear. She knew she had to protect the legacy of the Mohist school; it was her duty and her mission.