Inheritance on the Fire Line: Father and Son Forest Guardians in Deep Shennongjia

Towering Shennongjia, with over 1,000 square kilometers of mountain forests and tens of thousands of biological species, is safeguarded day and night by more than 1,900 forest rangers ensuring its tranquility. They measure the green mountains and forests with their feet, protect the greenery with their lives, and accompany all living things as they grow with the passage of time. It is these ordinary yet resilient figures who have built the safety barrier for Shennongjia, a Natural World Heritage site. Among these guardians is a father and son pair who walk together through the dense woods, protecting this expanse of green.

Moving Against Fire, Climbing Under Load 

At 10:36 am on April 14, 2025, on a tea mountain in Honghuaping, Muyu Town, Shennongjia, a gentle spring breeze blew as sunlight filtered through thin mist, illuminating the tea buds with a translucent, tender green. Villager Wang Shangbao was bending down to pick tea leaves when suddenly, an ear-splitting thunderclap exploded from the forest opposite. Immediately afterwards, the smell of something burning wafted over on the wind.

“Fire!” someone shouted. Wang Shangbao looked up and saw flames rapidly spreading up a utility pole beneath the 110kV power line tower on the opposite slope, thick smoke billowing into the sky. It turned out that sparks caused by clashing high-voltage power lines had ignited combustible material, starting a forest fire. “Call for help!” The villagers scrambled for their phones, and Wang Shangbao dialed the Muyu Town government line.

At that very moment, 53-year-old Wang Bixi was at home preparing lunch. His phone suddenly rang with an urgent notice from the Muyu Agency of the Administration of Shennongjia National Park: “Fire! Assemble the rapid response team immediately!” Without a word, he dropped his spatula, grabbed his fireproof suit, and rushed out. Just outside the door, he ran into his son, Wang Kui, who had received the same notification. Wang Kui had come to inform his father about the fire and call him to duty, only to find his father already notified. Father and son exchanged a glance and raced together to the assembly point.

As they hurried along, it hit Wang Kui that his father recently injured foot. He wanted to remind him to slow down, and called out, “Dad, your foot...” but hesitated, leaving the words unspoken. Wang Bixi had torn the Achilles tendon ligament in his left foot while patrolling the mountains in 2023. The injury had lingered for about a year, and even now, it ached dully on overcast or rainy days.

“It’s fine, the fire is urgent!” Wang Bixi waved his hand, his pace still swift. They soon arrived at the firefighting equipment depot, each shouldering 30-kilogram backpack spray extinguishers and other gear. They began climbing towards the fire site, which had an elevation difference of 500 meters, becoming core members of the first response team.

During the trek, Wang Kui occasionally tightened his father’s backpack straps and asked softly, “Can you manage?” “Your old man isn’t too old to climb mountains yet!” Wang Bixi patted his son’s shoulder and grinned. The fire was on a ridge at 1,500 meters above sea level. The mountain path was steep and overgrown with thorns. Wang Bixi gritted his teeth, climbing step by step, never once complaining about fatigue.

　　Have a rest

Thanks to the rapid response team’s timely efforts, the fire was soon extinguished. The sudden release after prolonged tension left the exhausted team members slumped on the ground. Only then did Wang Kui notice his father’s left foot was swollen and shiny red. “Your foot... it needs treatment now!” Wang Kui said with concern. “It’s nothing serious,” Wang Bixi waved it off. His gaze swept over the charred trees, and he sighed, “What a pity for these trees. How many years will it take for them to grow back...” 

When asked why he endured the pain to join the fire fighting, Wang Bixi said, “Every plant and tree here is like our own child. How could we just watch them burnt?” Behind these simple words lies the deepest love for this mountain forest.

　　Wang Bixi returned from the forest

From “Village Vet” to Forest Guardian

Wang Bixi’s bond with the forest began in childhood.

Born in 1972 on Yangjiapo slope in Shennongjia at 1,200 meters above sea level, he grew up where towering mountains and treacherous roads shaped life. Villagers lived off the mountains, relying on logging, herb-gathering, and hunting for survival. Young Wang followed his father into the woods, learning to identify medicinal plants and track wild animals—while witnessing firsthand the ecological degradation caused by over-logging.

“Back then, wildlife dwindled. Even common wild boars became rare sights,” Wang recalled.

In 2009, he moved to the more accessible Shennongtan Village, working as a guide and veterinarian. Whenever pigs fell ill or cattle were injured, villagers sought his help. Gradually, he became the only “village vet” for dozens of miles around.

One winter in 2016, heavy snow sealed the mountains. Villagers found a wounded golden eagle by the roadside, barely alive. Drawing on his experience with poultry, Wang meticulously cleaned its wounds and set its bones. Two months later, the eagle recovered and soared into the blue sky. “When it flew away, it glanced back at me,” Wang said, “that look felt like gratitude.”

This awakened him to how his skills could protect wildlife. In 2019, when Shennongjia National Park recruited part-time rangers, he signed up without hesitation. The role not only supplemented his income but reshaped his values. Wang Min, a staffer at Muyu Agency, noted: “He’s utterly dependable—even when injured, he never neglects his duties as liaison. His dedication inspires his son Wang Kui.”

　　Checking and recording

　　Father-Son Patrol Team

Wang Kui grew up immersed in his father’s stories.

He remembered the golden snub-nosed monkeys his father rescued, the rare plant specimens collected during scientific surveys, and the night his father faced threats while stopping poachers.

“Even then, I knew I’d protect these mountains like my dad,” Wang Kui said.

In 2024, he joined Muyu Agency as a patroller. Unlike his father, he employs technology—using drones for aerial surveys, infrared cameras for monitoring, and GPS for tracking... “The older generation relies on experience; and we rely on data,” he smiled. Shen Changkui, head of the Agency, praised him: “Like his father—diligent, eager to learn. A promising talent.”

But Wang Kui knows technology can’t replace his father’s "living map" instincts. One dusk during a river patrol, his drone crashed in Luoquanyan’s dense forest after losing signal. As he stood helpless, Wang Bixi pinpointed the search area using decades of experience and retrieved the device. “Tech is good,” Wang Bixi told his son, “but you still need to walk the land yourself.”

　　Wang kui fixed infared camera

　　Inheritance in Every Inch of Land

Deep in Shennongjia’s forests, the father’s hard-earned wisdom merges with the son’s new-generation technology. Drone patrols complement ground surveys; infrared monitoring is combined with visual records—forming a multi-dimensional conservation network. This inheritance isn’t repetition; it’s innovation anchored in tradition.

Three days after the fire, I met the Wangs at Muyu Management & Conservation Center. They were maintaining firefighting gear. Wang Kui expertly inspected each component of an extinguisher while Wang Bixi reminded him: “Dad always says equipment is like a comrade—if neglected, it fails you in crisis,” Wang Kui chuckled.

　　Plant supervising

“This extinguisher needs replacing. I’ll report to the director,” Wang Kui said. “It still works after repairs,” Wang Bixi replied without looking up—a refrain Wang Kui had heard since childhood.

Some lessons aren’t taught in classrooms, but on cliff edges; some education lives not in words, but in silent example. Though once a village committee cadre, Wang Kui chose to become a ranger out of love for the mountains. When asked why, he gazed at the emerald peaks: “Seeing Dad return exhausted but fulfilled from patrols—that convinced me this work matters.”

After servicing the gear, Wang Kui opened his patrol log: April 17: Assisted fire site recheck in Zhenzhu River area—no reignition. Detected three wildlife trails... “Firefighting needs equipment,” he observed, “but protecting forests ultimately needs heart.”

While urban youth chase “lying flat” or “Buddha-like” detachment, young people like Wang Kui guard natural heritage in Shennongjia’s depths. They may lack eloquence, but they know: every sapling holds the future; every fire is a command. This plain yet noble conviction forms the bedrock of ecological civilization.

The father-son team on the fire line safeguards not just mountains and forests, but an enduring heritage of spirit.(Written by Wang Pin Translated by Qin Mengran)