Chapter 162: Kangjiacuo

"Qin Ye, are you alright?"

As the police car screeched to a halt, Meng Hai, the bald man, bolted out and saw Qin Yun standing on the national highway, thinking he had come to greet them.

He sized up Qin Yun from head to toe—his clothes were dirty, but he had no injuries at all.

They'd been terrified the whole way—no signal at all, and the criminals had guns; no matter how strong Qin Yun was, he'd be dead if he faced gunfire.

Jiang Ping also hurried over, and seeing Qin Yun unharmed, he let out a breath of relief.

"Younger Brother Qin, it's a relief you're safe."

"Thank you for your concern," Qin Yun greeted the group, then walked toward the wasteland. "Someone came here before you arrived."

Jiang Ping froze, stunned: "Someone came here? Who?"

Meng Hai frowned: "The only nearby village is Songxi, and farther out is Duoma Township."

Qin Yun led them to where the bearded man lay, pointing at the body on the ground: "It's a Tibetan from Songxi Village. He took away the man with the scar on his face, claiming he was from Songxi Village and needed to be taken back for punishment."

Jiang Ping's face darkened: "Absurd."

Before the law of the state, there is no room for childishness—these Tibetans are audacious beyond measure.

Meng Hai carefully compared the bearded man on the ground and said to Jiang Ping: "Uncertain. We need the Riti County Forensics Unit to confirm."

"Take him along. Head to Songxi Village," Jiang Ping snapped. "Younger Brother Qin…"

Before he could finish, a police officer ran over from the pickup truck, his face grim.

"Report, Captain: thirteen pelts total—two Tibetan antelope, six Tibetan gazelle, two blue sheep, and three Tibetan wolf."

Hearing such a massive number, Jiang Ping sucked in a sharp breath.

"Everyone, get in the vehicles—armed and ready. Head to Songxi Village."

"Yes!"

When Jiang Ping turned to Qin Yun, Qin Yun waved him off: "I'll follow shortly. Go ahead. By the way, the one who took him away was named Lam."

"Lam!"

Jiang Ping and Meng Hai exchanged glances—this name was far too familiar.

They'd dealt with her often: the only college graduate from Songxi Village, highly educated, and the next village chief.

Someone like her understood the law—how could she possibly be involved in something like this?

"Alright, we'll head out first. Younger Brother Qin, move quickly."

Without delay, they sprang into action; soon, the two police cars roared off, sirens blaring.

Lam, watching this through her livestream, turned to the old village chief, Nixiadunzhu.

"Chief, the police are coming."

Nixiadunzhu nodded—he'd seen it too. His gaze shifted to the fur blanket on the floor inside the house, where the scarred man lay.

After treatment, the scarred man had regained consciousness, but the searing pain in his chest and chin made him grimace.

Yet when he saw Nixiadunzhu and Lam, he grinned weakly.

"Father, Little Lam—I thought I'd already gone to Nyewa. Cough, cough."

Nixiadunzhu looked at him and shook his head: "You know you'll go to hell—so why do these things?"

"This… what's this… cough, cough… just killing a few people? As long as there are more like Little Lam, it's fine… cough, cough."

Kangjiacuo showed not a shred of remorse—his expression was utterly justified.

This filled Nixiadunzhu with utter disappointment.

"You poach the sacred mountain's creatures, desecrate the sacred mountain—do you truly not fear falling into Nyewa, condemned to eternal damnation?"

Lam tugged Nixiadunzhu's arm: "Kangjiacuo, the police are on their way. Do you want to live or die? If you want to die…"

"Lam!"

Kangjiacuo's eyes flared, his voice rising sharply: "What are you doing? Do you want to bring ruin upon the whole village?"

"Kangjiacuo…" Lam froze, bewildered.

"Cough, cough, cough… Did you have the villagers rescue me from that Han man?"

Lam nodded.

"How could you do that?" Kangjiacuo roared. "I'm just a worthless life—I die, I die. But bringing me back to the village? That's dragging the whole village down! And you—finally got the chance to become chief—what are you doing?"

"I… I just wanted to save you," Lam whispered, her eyes reddening.

"Save me?" Kangjiacuo let out a bitter laugh. "I've killed people, I've poached—crimes punishable by ten deaths. How do you save me? Cough, cough, cough… My very presence here is a desecration of the village. Lam, you're foolish."

"But…"

"Even if I'm from Songxi Village, I was officially expelled long ago. My crimes have nothing to do with the village. But now you've brought me back—when the police investigate, what do you think they'll do?"

"Ah?"

Having spoken so much, Kangjiacuo's breathing grew ragged, his coughing relentless.

"That… that Han man—where is he?"

Lam shook her head: "Qin Ye is fine. I only brought you back."

Kangjiacuo closed his eyes. After a moment, he opened them again and looked at both of them: "Take off my clothes. Tie me up. Throw me at Longdaka."

Lam's expression changed: "Kangjiacuo."

Kangjiacuo ignored her, turning to Nixiadunzhu: "Father, you must sever all ties between me and the village."

Nixiadunzhu shook his head: "It's already too late. The moment Lam brought you back, the village will be thoroughly investigated inside and out."

Kangjiacuo showed no surprise: "It doesn't matter. What matters is clearing Lam. She must not be tainted—so we must make it undeniable that she brought me back for punishment."

"Is this truly necessary?"

"Yes. Hurry."

Lam wept, her heart aching terribly.

One side of Longdaka is a cliff, the other a rocky desert; the wind all year round is like a knife. Strip off your warm clothing there, and you will freeze to death.

…

When Qin Yun appeared in Songxi Village, he noticed that the villagers—old and young alike—looked at him with hostility and fear.

"Qin Ye, they're looking at you funny. Aren't you afraid you'll get hacked to death?"

"Yeah, something feels off. Can you even spend the night here?"

Qin Yun felt uneasy too, but soon he spotted someone he knew.

"Little Li!"

Li Shang had just stepped out of a Tibetan household, heard the call, and immediately ran over, delighted.

"Qin Ye, you've come."

Qin Yun nodded, gesturing toward the surroundings. The sky had already darkened—it was 8:30 p. m., and the sun had long set.

"Kangjiacuo is dead. The villagers carried out a private execution."

Qin Yun froze. They really executed him? Not rescued him?

The online viewers in the livestream chat were also shocked.

Though that scar-faced man deserved a hundred deaths, hearing the news still sent chills down their spines—after all, they lived in a civilized age.

After a moment's silence, Qin Yun turned to the drone's camera.

"Friends, time's up. It's time to sign off. Today is December 9th, my second day on the Xinjiang-Tibet route. In these two days, I've covered nearly two hundred kilometers—very efficient. At this pace, I might reach the Shiquanhe in five days."

"This morning, I left the Quanshui Lake checkpoint without incident. I even let you enjoy my flute music. But just before arriving at Songxi Village, I ran into poachers. Now I'm in Songxi Village, but the villagers are looking at me with hostility—I think I'll have to camp outside tonight."

"That's enough. The drone's battery is low. Goodbye. See you tomorrow at 8 a. m. sharp."

Without responding to the comments pleading for him to stay, Qin Yun clicked "end livestream" and immediately stowed the drone in his backpack.

Then, under the guidance of Officer Li Shang, he appeared at the village chief's courtyard.

He heard Jiang Ping roaring: "You're completely lawless! You brought someone back and executed him privately? What were you thinking?"

Qin Yun's gaze shifted to the bloodied, unrecognizable figure on the ground. The face—clearly that of the scar-faced man.

Ni Xiadunzhu saw Qin Yun enter and immediately walked over, performing a deep Tibetan bow: "Tashi Delek. Thank you for your contribution to Songxi Village—you helped us capture Kangjiacuo, the traitor among us."

Qin Yun frowned and looked at Jiang Ping.

Jiang Ping sighed: "This Kangjiacuo—the one on the ground—he's a poacher, a traitor to Songxi Village. When Lamu learned you'd captured Kangjiacuo, she reported it to Ni Xiadunzhu—this old man here."

"Ni Xiadunzhu is the village chief. He ordered Lamu to bring Kangjiacuo back. According to Songxi Village's old customs, villagers who break the rules must be punished. And someone as grievously guilty as Kangjiacuo must be banished to Longdaka."

He pointed at the corpse: "They stripped Kangjiacuo of his clothes and left him on Longdaka. Soon after, his body lost control and he tumbled off the cliff—died on impact."

Qin Yun stepped over the body and turned to Lamu on the other side.

Her face was expressionless. When he studied her, she merely looked up at him, then lowered her head.

Qin Yun frowned. Something felt off—instinctively.

He leaned close to Jiang Ping: "So what now?"

Jiang Ping was equally helpless. He pulled Qin Yun aside: "Minority regions handle things differently from us. So this case ends here. But we're still investigating a poaching gang—we hope to extract something from the other one."

Qin Yun nodded. Though he found it questionable, domestic handling of such matters was indeed complicated.

For example, even with high scores on the college entrance exam, ethnic minorities get preferential policies.

In every aspect, Han people and other ethnic groups are treated completely differently.

He said nothing. Since the matter was settled, and as the one who personally captured Kangjiacuo, Qin Yun believed the man deserved death—but since he was dead, debts died with him. He no longer cared.

Soon, officers Meng Hai and another policeman loaded Kangjiacuo's body onto a vehicle heading toward Ritou County; another vehicle returned to Quanshui Lake.

Before leaving, Jiang Ping smiled: "Brother Qin, you'll get your banner and reward—I'll contact you."

"Hahaha, Chief Jiang, I'll wait for your call."

"Aren't you going with Meng Hai to Ritou County?"

"No." Qin Yun shook his head. "My livestream rule is to walk all the way to the Shiquanhe—I can't break it."

"Alright then. Stay careful."

The police cars drove off—one left, one right. Qin Yun prepared to leave.

"Qin Ye!"

But before he moved, a familiar voice called from behind.

He turned. It was Lamu.

"Stay at my house tonight. There's no suitable place all the way to Duoma Township."

Qin Yun hesitated—not because he feared they'd harm him, but since they disliked and feared him, why should he impose himself?

"No thanks. You've watched my livestream—you know I have ways to survive in the wild."

He'd been about to say, "You're my fan," but then remembered he'd indirectly caused Kangjiacuo's death—this "fan" was likely gone.

Lamu didn't press. She nodded: "Then wait a moment, Qin Ye. I'll get you some supplies." She turned and walked back into the village.

Not long after, Lamu emerged with a bag.

"Inside are butter-made sugar cakes, a bottle of goat's milk, and some dried rations."

Qin Yun didn't refuse: "Thank you, Lamu."

He put the items into his backpack, waved goodbye, and walked forward into the moonlight.

Lamu, watching his back until he vanished, whispered softly: "Qin Ye, I don't blame you."