Chapter 158: Gunshot

Lam, dressed in a dark green Tibetan robe, sat at the edge of the village's grain-drying ground, engrossed in watching the people on her phone screen.

This was the spot in the village with the best mobile signal; coming here to watch livestreams prevented lag. At home, the video stalled every three seconds and froze every five, driving her mad.

"Lam, what are you watching?"

A snot-nosed child, about seven or eight years old, walked over from nearby.

Lam looked up at him and smiled: "Losang, what delicious treats are you hiding in your arms? Let your sister have a bite."

Losang instantly grew wary and clutched his chest: "I won't tell you I have three pieces of butter candy."

"Hahaha…" Lam burst into laughter—it never failed, "Come here and let me have one piece, and I'll let you watch the phone with me."

"Really?" Losang was skeptical. "Last time you said you'd let me watch, but as soon as your mom called you, you vanished."

"I couldn't help it—my mom called me." Lam shrugged. "This time, my mom won't call me, don't worry."

Losang hesitated, then finally chose to believe her.

He carefully pulled a piece of butter candy from his chest and handed it to Lam. Lam took it and immediately shoved it into her mouth, savoring it happily.

Losang sat down beside Lam, his small eyes darting eagerly to the phone screen.

On the screen was a Han Chinese big brother, dressed stylishly, speaking.

"My destination today is Songxi Village, a Tibetan village. I'll resupply there and see if the locals will give me some tsampa to eat."

After taking a checkpoint photo at Jieshan Daban, Qin Yun quickly headed toward Longmu Co.

Jieshan Daban is the second-highest point on the Xinjiang-Tibet Highway; from here down to Longmu Co. is an entire downhill stretch.

He glanced at the snowboard on his back, his expression slightly exasperated.

"Anyone who's watched my livestream knows Qin's skill on a snowboard is no less impressive than skiing. If I'd known, I should've brought a longboard too—then I could've just slid all the way down without walking a single step."

"Praising yourself? How shameless."

"Even though this flex isn't smooth, Qin's longboard downhill is still a video I watch every single day."

"Did you hear? The former world record holder for longboard downhill challenged the record again a few days ago—but failed."

"I saw. He got seriously injured and announced his retirement immediately."

"So tragic—he could've retired with honor. All because of Qin."

"Qin…"

Qin Yun stared, speechless. He hadn't known the former longboard downhill world record holder had launched another attempt.

"Don't spread rumors—I don't even know that guy."

After saying this, he glanced to the right side of the road and saw below the southwest foot of Jieshan Daban a lake shaped like a gourd, frozen white and icy. He swiftly oriented his drone's lens toward the lake.

"Look, there's a lake."

"Wow, so beautiful, Qin, go check it out!"

"So gorgeous—it's like a gem embedded there."

"It's too cold; the lake's completely frozen. If it weren't winter, it'd be stunning."

"The distant snow-capped mountains, the nearby lake, the endless plateau—only the extreme cold lets Qin enjoy it all alone."

Qin Yun laughed heartily.

"I'm showing you all the beauty of the snowfield—how can you say I'm enjoying it alone?"

From Jieshan Daban to Songxi Village, the route passes Longmu Co. and Songxi Daban, totaling 53 kilometers. The average person walks at 5 km/h; Qin Yun, to ensure sufficient daily distance, maintains 8 km/h. With stops and starts, the journey takes about seven hours.

But even after seven hours, it's still barely seven in the evening—the sun hasn't even set.

"Losang, it's time to eat."

Losang had barely sat down for two minutes when a loud, rough voice called from afar.

Lam turned to look at him, wanting to laugh.

Losang's mouth twisted, and he burst into tears immediately.

He'd only watched the butter candy for two minutes—it wasn't worth it at all. But he dared not defy his parents; his mother's beatings hurt, his father's beatings could kill.

Reluctantly, he rose from beside Lam, glancing back with every step, deeply reluctant.

"Go on," Lam felt pity. "If you give me your other two pieces of butter candy, you can come back here to watch after dinner."

"Really?"

Losang's big eyes shone with innocence.

"Of course it's true. When has your Lam sister ever lied? I'm the only college student in the village."

Losang thought carefully—it was true. Lam sister was the most learned person in the village; even Nixia Dunzhu often came to ask her questions.

"Alright then." He pulled out the two remaining butter candies from his chest and handed them to Lam. "I'll come find you after dinner, Lam."

"Lam sister," Lam corrected him, snatching the two candies from the little brat's hand.

Losang left. Lam returned to her livestream.

Watching, her eyes suddenly lit up: "At seven or eight, Qin will arrive in Songxi Village. I need to tell my dad and mom to prepare some food and treat Qin properly."

Thinking this, she quickly stood and ran home.

From the national highway at Jieshan Daban all the way to Longmu Co., the route passes frozen lakes.

The clarity and grandeur of it were hard to find anywhere else.

It felt as if all heaven and earth were utterly pure.

Though there was no dense vegetation—beyond the frozen lakes, mostly dark gray-black rocks and distant yellow-brown mountains—

the weather was perfect: the sky a flawless, cloudless blue, utterly pure.

"Too bad—you can only see it through the lens. You can't feel the sensation of being one with heaven and earth. It's incredible."

Qin Yun reveled in it. Simply watching, he felt his heart impossibly light, the world impossibly beautiful.

"Frozen lakes, vast wilderness, endless snow-capped mountains—only by being there can the vastness of heaven and earth heal the soul."

"Fuck, don't talk anymore, you're making me want to go."

"That bastard Qin Ye is going too far."

"Hahaha, I think we better not. Watching the livestream is fine enough—at least it's safe."

"Yeah, Qin Ye, think for a second—you're always… Holy shit, what's that?"

"Damn, what did I just see? Why's it over there…"

"Qin Ye, zoom in, fast."

Qin Yun saw it too—the drone instantly moved closer but didn't dare get too near, stopping about three hundred meters away before rapidly zooming in.

When he clearly saw the scene, his brow immediately furrowed.

There, by the lake, three Tibetan wolves were surrounding a bloody mess, eating with relish.

"Wolves again? Qin Ye really has a thing for wolves."

"What kind of wolves are these?"

"They're not even that big—if they dare attack Qin Ye, they're just asking for death."

Qin Yun said: "Friends, these are Tibetan wolves—our country's Class II protected species, just like the bloody mess under their jaws. Normally, Tibetan wolves won't attack me, especially when they're full. But if they're starving, all bets are off."

"So when hiking here, always stay alert and carry proper self-defense weapons. Of course, if you've got my skills, ignore what I just said."

"Old bastard, showing off again."

"Qin Ye's right—if you've got his skills, you can walk anywhere in the world."

"From what I remember, Qin Ye ran away from wild boars, punched wolves, and pissed himself running from Northeast tigers."

"Hahaha"

Qin Yun saw this comment and immediately felt a headache—he wanted to argue, but realized it was actually true.

In the end, he could only say dryly: "A wise man adapts to circumstances. I just want to livestream longer so you won't miss me and feel sad."

In the camera view, the Tibetan wolves looked up toward Qin Yun's direction but made no other move—perhaps sensing no threat, they went back to eating.

Of course, Qin Yun wouldn't go out of his way to beat them up.

Beyond Longmu Co, the altitude began to rise slightly again; ahead lay the Songxi Daban.

This is the Xinjiang-Tibet Highway—endless daban after daban, some famous, some nameless. To cross a daban means to reach the highest peak of a mountain.

…

On the wasteland, a middle-aged man with a full beard held a telescope, observing distant movements.

Another man, his face covered by a thick cloth, crouched beside him; a hunting rifle rested on the ground.

"Scar, aim well—just now you let that Tibetan antelope get away."

The bearded man chewed a dry blade of grass, muttering complaints.

The man called Scar had a striking scar running from his forehead to his eye; his already fierce eyes now radiated extra cruelty.

"Puh—!"

He spat out the grass seed and shook his head: "It won't get away. In this freezing winter, with a leg injured, where can it run? We'll follow its escape path and find it soon."

After saying this, he glanced toward the distance: "Any movement?"

The bearded man's nickname was Old Ghost; neither was their real name, and neither was Han Chinese—by appearance, both seemed Tibetan.

Old Ghost kept staring through the telescope: "Those two Tibetan wolves are still tearing at the bharal—the bharal's still struggling, but not for long."

Scar nodded, glanced back at the pickup truck's haul, and grinned: "Every day this winter brings good catches—we're earning in one day what that brat spends in a year in Australia."

"Yeah," Old Ghost chuckled. "Just one winter's work each year—no need to buy a house or car, what can't you afford?"

He waved his right hand: "Scar, they're starting to eat."

Scar immediately picked up his rifle, hunched his back, and crept forward.

His movements were quiet, slow, and soon he reached a rock—now the prey was clearly visible to the naked eye.

Fifty meters away—perfect range for his hunting rifle.

He leaned against the rock, raised his rifle, aimed—and through the scope appeared two adult Tibetan wolves with rich brown-yellow fur, their pelts sleek and fine.

Scar greedily licked his lips; the rifle's crosshair slowly settled on the head of one wolf.

"Bang!"

He pulled the trigger—the gunshot spread across the wasteland.

In Old Ghost's telescope, the left wolf, still eating, collapsed instantly—a hole in its head, dead on the spot.

But the gunshot terrified the other wolf, which bolted away.

Coincidentally, that wolf ran straight toward Scar's position. Scar laughed loudly, re-aimed, pulled the trigger again—and the wolf fell without exception, sliding far across the ground.

Old Ghost rushed over, pointing at the first wolf: "I'll skin that one—you handle this one."

Meanwhile, Qin Yun had just reached the summit of the Songxi Daban and was taking a photo of the boundary marker. Suddenly, his ear twitched—he seemed to hear something, and turned toward the wasteland.

The sound was scattered, but he heard it clearly.

"That sounds… like gunfire?"