Chapter 192

My heart suddenly sank. I hurriedly stubbed out my cigarette and went over to look. The black donkey hoof had just been used up, and Shirley Yang was pulling a black flesh nail from between the lama's fingers. I didn't know what it was for. Although the Iron Staff Lama's skin had returned to normal, his complexion was turning increasingly bluish. I checked his breathing. Although weak, it was still steady, but whether he could preserve his life remained uncertain.

I picked up the flesh nail from the ground and examined it. There was still a tiny piece of black flesh attached to it. This was probably the shadow thorn that had pierced the lama's finger. It was not a good thing. Keeping it would bring misfortune. So I casually threw it into the fire to burn. Those foul-smelling black hairs were also completely burned, not a single one left.

Finally, I called Axiang over to confirm that the Iron Staff Lama indeed had nothing abnormal on his body, and then I felt relieved. That night I couldn't sleep at all. The next day, the Iron Staff Lama finally woke up, exhausted and weak, as if he had aged twenty years overnight. His right arm could no longer move at all, and his vision seemed to have been severely affected. Most importantly, his qi and blood were depleted, and his strength could not sustain movement. Given his current condition, to recover his health he would need at least more than a year, making it impossible for him to re-enter the high-altitude areas of Kalamail in Kunlun Mountain.

The Iron Staff Lama also knew this was heaven's will. Even if he insisted on going, he would only become a burden to others. But what the lama worried about most was how difficult it would be to find another heaven-bestowed chanter now. After discussing it with me, he decided to still accompany us to Kalamail, though not enter Kunlun Mountain. He would wait for us at the mountain pass until we returned, and during our preparatory period, he would do his best to translate the long epic poem of the World-Subduing Pearl Heroic King into Chinese, narrating the parts related to the Demon Kingdom to Shirley Yang. He believed that with Shirley Yang's unforgettable memory, she could certainly retain a large portion, which might prove useful when searching for the demon kingdom's demon tower in the Phoenix Divine Palace.

To allow the lama to rest a few more days, I let Ming Shu take his people and first head via route to Aze Bu Qing near Kalamail in Kunlun Mountain to procure equipment and supplies, which would also be consigned there. That place had vast wastelands and uninhabited areas, with not a few poachers. The advance team's task was not only to buy weapons and ammunition from them, but also to find a suitable guide and hire porters. In short, there was a lot of preliminary preparation work to do. Meanwhile, I, Pangzi, and Shirley Yang would wait until the lama's condition improved before setting out. Even though we were still far from Kunlun Mountain, we had already suffered one death and one injury, which inevitably cast a shadow over our upcoming journey.

Ming Shu expressed firm opposition. He said if we were to act, we must act together; we could not split our forces. I knew this harbor trick was just another excuse for him to fear we would abandon him and go solo, but no matter how I said it, it was useless. So I had no choice but to assign Pangzi to him as a hostage, and only then did Ming Shu relax.

I was again afraid Pangzi would refuse, so I had to deceive him, telling him I was assigning him as a liaison officer, and that Ming Shu's four people would be under his command. When Pangzi heard he was going to be a leader, he couldn't help but be overjoyed. Without saying another word, he agreed. Ming Shu knew a great deal about navigation, but when it came to tomb raiding and mountain entry, he didn't know what supplies were needed or what kind of guide to hire. Although Peter Huang had fought in the jungle for several years, he didn't even understand what tomb raiding meant, and had never come to the interior. Therefore, these people naturally all listened to Pangzi.

Before Pangzi set off with Ming Shu and the others, he grabbed my hand and said: Old Hu, our friendship has long since become immeasurable. I only remember that he is higher than mountains and longer than roads. This time I will first lead the troops to open up a new base. After many years, my wife has become a mother-in-law, and Pang Ye's commander position has finally been confirmed. But I am reluctant to part with you. I don't know whether I should be happy or sad. In short, I am filled with mixed emotions and don't know what to say.

I said to Pangzi: Since you don't know what to say, why the hell are you saying so much? Our unit has always been one of equality between officers and soldiers. Don't put on airs in front of Ming Shu and his men. Of course, if that harbor trick dares to mess with you, you don't need to be polite. After giving him these instructions, I finally saw them off on their journey.

After the Iron Staff Lama could move again, I first performed a liberation ritual for A Dong, then, accompanied by Shirley Yang, we rode on yaks slowly forward to Sengge Zangbu to take a vehicle.

Along the way, the Iron Staff Lama continuously lectured Shirley Yang on the verses about the Demon Kingdom. Shirley Yang listened while scribbling and drawing in her notebook. This is how we arrived at Aze Bu Qing more than twenty days later than Pangzi and the others. Pangzi and Ming Shu had been waiting with eyes strained to the point of exhaustion. Seeing us finally arrive, they immediately bustled about arranging our rest and meals.

We were staying in a herdsman's home. Before dinner that night, Ming Shu told me about the preparatory work. Among the herdsmen there was a man called Ji Yi, under forty, a typical Kangba Han, shrewd and capable. His name meant the first day. Ming Shu and the others hired Ji Yi as a guide because he was the only one in this area who had entered Kalamail multiple times.

Additionally, there were fifteen yaks, six horses, and five porters. To enter Kalamail from Aze Bu Qing, we first had to cross the uninhabited wasteland. There were many gullies there, with no transportation conditions. Nearby there was only an old-fashioned truck, two-wheel drive. Once you drove in, you couldn't get out. That wasteland was so desolate even poachers wouldn't go there. Therefore, transporting large amounts of supplies in could only be done by relying on yak transport. Now the yaks, horses, guides, porters, and the equipment shipped from Beijing were all prepared according to Shirley Yang's purchases by Da Jin Ya, and were ready to depart at any time.

I asked Ming Shu how the weapons were. We certainly couldn't just bring two Thompson submachine guns and over seventy rounds of ammunition into Kunlun Mountain, could we? There were many wild beasts in those mountains.

Ming Shu led me and Shirley Yang to the storage room behind the herdsman's home. Pangzi and Peter Huang were inside fiddling with firearms, long and short weapons all present. The pistol models were mostly in agreement. The pistols were stolen from poachers who had come from Southeast Asia, possibly leftover U. S. military supplies. U. S. standard-issue M1911 single-action pistols. The model was rather old, but the. 45 caliber was large enough, and the performance was stable enough. They could be considered classics among classics in U. S. military pistols. Legends among legends. Browning's masterpiece, absolutely a fine weapon for self-defense.

The rifles, however, were somewhat lacking—only two small-caliber sporting rifles of different models, no real heavy-duty weapons. But even with those two shotguns added, we could scrape by. After all, we were going tomb raiding, not to war.

I also checked our equipment. Indeed, everything was fully prepared. Not only did we have the assault jackets worn by the U. S. mountaineering team, but even diving gear had been transported here. The water systems formed from melting snow below Kunlun Mountain crisscrossed horizontally. All of these were available as needed, with no worries. Most importantly, we had those black donkey hooves, glutinous rice, yin-exploring claws, and other traditional tools that cannot be bought on the market. They were all specially made. Having these, we gained a bit more confidence.

I left some money with the local herdsman to take care of the Iron Staff Lama. I would have him pick him up after we came out of Kalamail. If we hadn't returned after two months, I would ask the herdsman to send the lama to the nearby clinic for treatment. The Tibetans are extremely devout in their faith. Even if I didn't say anything, they would take good care of the lama.

Seeing that all preparations were complete, I decided to set out early the next morning. That evening, Ming Shu invited everyone to gather and eat together. This place is located at the junction of the Qinghai-Tibet and Xinjiang regions, so the diet shows some inclusiveness and comprehensiveness. Our dinner was very abundant: cold-mixed yak meat, cordyceps-braised meat, Tibetan buns, stuffed lungs, stuffed intestines, milk-soaked rice, roasted lamb chops, ginseng lamb tendons. Everyone drank plenty of barley wine.

Ming Shu drank a bit too much and said something inappropriate, actually hoping this wasn't the last supper. His words dampened everyone's mood, so they ate hastily and went to sleep. The next morning we set out early, bade farewell to the lama, and prepared to assemble and depart. The lama placed a hada on my shoulder: May the Buddha bless you. May your journey to the Phoenix Divine Palace be safe and auspicious all the way. I tightly embraced the lama, wanting to say something to him, but my heart was so moved that I couldn't utter a single word.

The people formed a line with yaks and horses, heading northwest. The northern Tibetan plateau, deep inland, far from the ocean, has a dry and cold climate, with temperature and precipitation changing vertically. Winters are cold and long, summers cool and short. Now it is late summer, a period when temperatures are most unstable throughout the year.

The desolate wilderness is what people call the Red (Harm Valley) uninhabited area. Although there is no human habitation, there are many living beings in nature. Birds fly in flocks, wild animals appear from time to time. The distant mountain ranges stretch endlessly. Behind the mountains and meeting the azure sky is a expanse of snow-white color, but the distance is truly too great to tell whether it is snow-capped mountains or clouds piled up at the horizon. One only feels the vastness of the atmosphere, exuding an indescribable mystery. After five days of travel, we passed through the uninhabited area. Of course, the mountain area we were about to enter was even more desolate than the wasteland of the uninhabited area. At the mountain pass there was a lake, with many black-necked water birds in it. Undisturbed by humans, they would fly south in flocks. These birds are not migratory birds with habitual migration patterns. Their departure from this lake might be due to an avalanche in the mountains startling them, or it might be a sign of an impending cold wave. Superstitious porters would say this is an ominous sign, urging us to turn back. But our resolve to go forward was firm, and we were not moved by it in the slightest.

I discussed with the guide Ji Yi. This place is at high altitude. If we continue up the mountain, someone in the team might not be able to bear it. Can we pass through the mountain valley? There are indeed countless ancient glaciers in the valley, with heavy snow accumulation on them. From the valley, snowslides can easily be triggered. But Ji Yi has been going with monks since childhood to collect medicine in Kalamail, so he is very familiar with this area. He knows there are several deep depressions with high altitude where one can pass safely. So he had everyone rest briefly at the mountain pass, and twenty minutes later led the team toward Zangbu Gully.

Shirley Yang had been organizing the materials orally transmitted by the Iron Staff Lama throughout this journey, and took time to restore the map from the Portuguese priest's Bible. She had gradually clarified some clues. Now, hearing that the next step was to pass through Zangbu Gully, she asked the guide Ji Yi: Why is this place called Zangbu Gully? Whose bones are buried here? This mountain range is called Kalamail—what does that mean? Ji Yi told everyone: Whether there are human bones in Zangbu Gully is unclear. The reason it is called that is because this is where hundreds of beasts commit suicide. Every year, large numbers of yellow sheep, wild oxen, Tibetan horses, and bears run here and jump off to kill themselves. The bottom of the gully is filled with the white bones of beasts. Even the bravest person would not dare go there at night. As for Kalamail, its meaning is the Ocean of Disaster. As to why it is given this inauspicious name, even the herdsman with the longest beard in the area does not know.