On top of Guifeng Mountain, in a thatched hut, Hu Yang, wearing a sleeveless shirt and sandals, was lazily sitting on a wooden table with his legs crossed. He held a bowl in his left hand and chopsticks in his right, closing his eyes and counting something.,A few seconds later, a Mercedes-Benz G-Class roared up, kicking up dust as it sped towards them.,"I can't get in touch with him. I've been calling him for three years, but all calls go unanswered."。