Chapter 130: Five Saints Snow Mountain

After surviving the blizzard, we set off again. At a slope we found A Ning's horse team and also spotted the mysterious snowy mountain from the underwater tomb mural appearing at the edge of our sight. When we asked the guide how to get there, Shunzi shook his head and said we absolutely couldn't make it.

"Why?" I asked in surprise, thinking to myself, didn't you say you could climb every one of these eight hundred li of snowy mountains? How come you can't go up this one?

Shunzi explained, "That mountain is called Three Saints Snow Mountain (alias). Only a very small part of it is on our side; everything above the snow line and on the other side is inside North Korea's border. We can't get across."

Fatty was stunned for a moment and asked, "Three Saints Snow Mountain?"

Shunzi nodded: "Yes, that's the mountain. It's over 2,400 meters above sea level. Over the mountain is North Korea's hilly region."

When I heard that, I thought to myself, this is bad.

Anyone who has served in the military or is interested in modern Chinese history knows about Three Saints Mountain. The three toughest border lines in the world are one between India and Pakistan, one between Israel and Lebanon, and the third is this only 14-kilometer-long border line at Three Saints Mountain.

Actually, China and North Korea have always been friendly countries. Those familiar know that at the west slope of Changbai Mountains, you can cross the border very easily without many checkpoints. Around 1996, when the Changbai forest area was depressed, many people regularly crossed the border to dig a Chinese medicinal herb called "Alpine Rhodiola" for money. Although the North Korean soldiers would catch them, the Chinese were nimble and fought guerrilla-style. Plus many of the herb thieves carried cigarettes and liquor, and if caught they could buy their way out. So over time, that west-slope border had become nominal.

Only this section at Three Saints Mountain remained very tightly sealed. No one knew the reason; reportedly because this border was the old boundary between China and North Korea, and above the snow line was North Korean territory.

Now our food supply wouldn't allow us to detour through the other border sections with very high altitudes. The only way to stay on schedule was to go straight across the China-North Korea border through the Three Saints Mountain pass and then enter the snow summit.

Then our trouble wouldn't be mysterious tricks and tricks or zombies, but the very real bullets from Type 81 automatic rifles and regular army units of at least platoon or even company strength.

The others knew more or less about Three Saints Mountain too, and all showed worried expressions. We exchanged glances, thinking what to do next. Panzi comforted us, "Don't worry. There must be some smuggler's route across the border. Shunzi served here in the army, he must know. We can persuade him to take us over, just give him more money."

So he went to ask Shunzi. Unexpectedly, Shunzi firmly shook his head and said, "No, impossible. There are only a few trails up that mountain, all on high ridges. A searchlight every ten meters. It's a military exclusion zone from the foot of the mountain. Although not many troops, the posts are very dense. Not to mention crossing the border, you can't even get close to the sentry post on our own side. When I served, my orders were: if any stranger appears in sight, fire a warning shot into the air. If you don't retreat, the second shot hits your leg directly, no questions asked."

Fatty asked, "Then what if we buy some fruit to take up, pretending to be locals coming to offer greetings?"

Shunzi laughed: "Boss, you're joking. Of course not. First, this isn't a place to fish in troubled waters. Second, where would we find fruit? In this icy and snowy land, carrying fruit above the Changbai Mountain snow line is more suspicious than empty-handed."

Fatty clicked his tongue and said, "Then what do we do? We absolutely can't get past this damn line? I don't believe it. Even the Maginot Line was breached. Could this crappy border be stronger than the Maginot? Are you just griping about the money? Tell me how much you need."

Shunzi scratched his head awkwardly: "Ah, it's not about money. If there really was a way, would I go against money? If you wanted to go to North Korea, I wouldn't have taken you this way. Now that we're here, I really have no way."

Shunzi left no room for negotiation. We were a bit surprised, but this area isn't wealthy, and crossing the border isn't a serious crime. If there was a way, Shunzi wouldn't hide it from us.

Monk Hua and the others didn't have much opinion. They went over to Chenpi A'si and asked the old man what he thought.

Actually it was just a question of continuing or turning back. If we continued, we'd have to detour to another border line as Shunzi said. The time might double, and the last few days we'd have to climb hungry. If we didn't continue, we'd go back to rest and come again, meaning all these days of climbing would be wasted, all hardships in vain.

I myself was inclined to continue. I didn't know the purpose of Third Uncle's urgent mobilization, and A Ning's team put a lot of pressure on me. My mind just hoped to see Third Uncle quickly and finish this. Of course, at the time I had no idea of the pain of climbing a snowy mountain while starving.

Chenpi A'si sighed. Apparently he hadn't expected things to be so troublesome. These old bosses from Changsha, in their own line they could cover the sky with one hand, dare to kill and burn, but when it

I was a bit anxious, glanced at Poker-face, wanting to ask for his opinion, but he completely refused to join our discussion, just staring at the distant snowy mountains, lost in thought about something, as if none of this had anything to do with him.

We discussed back and forth, but suddenly no one could come up with a solution. Just as we were at a loss, Ye Cheng, who was off to the side, called out to us.

We stopped talking and looked down the mountain, and saw that A Ning's horse team had started moving forward again. Judging by the direction they were heading, there was no doubt their target was that Three Holy Mountain.

A lot of supplies had been unloaded immediately and casually discarded in the snow, probably to lighten the load and speed up their movement. The snowfield at the foot of the mountain looked a complete mess.

Ye Cheng said in surprise, "Strange, don't these guys realize there's a border ahead? What do their guides do for a living? If it's really like Shunzi said, carrying so many weapons across—isn't that just going to give them target practice with live ammunition?"

I shook my head, indicating it was impossible. I knew their company's habits—they definitely had local guides, maybe more than one. This kind of professional private survey company excelled at research and public relations. They understood the situation here far better than we did, and they must have set a fixed route before coming, which they wouldn't change lightly.

Fatty doubted Shunzi's professional competence and asked him how to explain this. Was there a route that other people knew but he didn't?

Shunzi squinted and looked, then said: "There's only one possibility for taking this route: they want to go through the pass ahead, circle around to the other mountains, then bypass that stretch of border, and then turn toward Three Holy Mountain from within North Korea. The risks are still high, but much better than charging across the border defenses. Their team is bigger than ours; if they have enough food, or if they've greased the wheels on the North Korean side, they certainly have the capability for such a long trek."

"So what do we do? Should we just follow them for now?" Ye Cheng turned his head to ask Chenpi A'si.

Chenpi A'si shook his head, and without speaking, suddenly pointed to the other side—a small snow-covered peak next to Three Holy Mountain—and asked Shunzi, "What mountain is that?"

Shunzi picked up his binoculars and looked, then said: "That is Little Holy Snow Mountain. That mountain is within our country's borders. The Three Holy Mountain and Little Holy Mountain, plus the Big Holy Mountain over there, are collectively known as the Five Holy Mountains."

Chenpi A'si asked again: "From here, can we get up to that Little Holy Mountain?"

As soon as he finished speaking, everyone was stunned, not knowing what the old man wanted to do. Even Shunzi was a bit surprised, saying: "No problem, we can get there in a day, and that place is far from any sentry posts, the scenery is nice, but the road isn't easy to travel."

Chenpi A'si patted the snow off his pants, stood up, and said to Shunzi, "Alright, just take us there."

Everyone was confused. Monk Hua immediately reminded him: "What's going on, old man? Going there would waste too much time. We don't have enough food to last that long—"

Chenpi A'si waved his hand, pointed to the continuous mountain range on one side, and said: "The mountain terrain here stretches endlessly, with year-round snow and a three-sided overlook. It's a rare three-headed old dragon. In great feng shui, this is called 'Dragon Cluster Throne.' These three mountains are all dragon heads, very suitable for group burial. If this heavenly palace is on the cliffs of the central Three Holy Mountain, then the two small dragon heads on the sides should have accompanying tombs for queens or close ministers."

The pattern of the three-headed dragon is very peculiar. The three heads must be connected; otherwise, the three dragons would each fly their own way, and the dragon would lose its direction, becoming chaotic. Descendants buried here would end up in fratricide. Therefore, if there are accompanying tombs, there must be secret passages beneath them that connect to the main tomb of the central heavenly palace.

In history, there have been many three-headed dragon ancient tombs. For example, the Warring States period triple burial excavated in Mangshan in 1987 consisted of three related ancient tombs distributed on three peaks of the same mountain range. The two tombs on the sides originally had passageways about half a meter in diameter leading to the central main tomb. Unfortunately, during the excavation, these passageways had already collapsed. The archaeological team didn't know whether these passageways were truly connected or just symbolic displays.

We followed his gaze and saw three snow-capped mountain ranges stretching across the horizon, indistinguishable from the surrounding snow mountains. None of us knew where Chenpi A'si got his judgment from.

After saying that, Chenpi A'si glanced at Poker-face and asked him, "Xiao Ge, am I right?"

Poker-face, for the first time, responded to someone's question. He turned back and glanced at Chenpi A'si, but said nothing, then turned his head again to continue looking at the distant snow mountains.

None of us understood the big-picture feng shui; it all sounded like gibberish to us, and we felt a bit skeptical. But since the old man said so, and Poker-face seemed to agree, we'd better not question it.

When we descended to the place where A Ning and her team had stayed, we saw discarded luggage scattered all over the snow. Many had been ransacked, with no food left inside. Clearly, all the equipment had been reorganized, and useless or duplicate items had been abandoned.

Fatty even found a few guns, but the bullets had been removed and taken away, leaving only the empty frames. Fatty, who liked guns, slung one over his shoulder and wanted to take it along, but Shunzi stopped him, saying, "If you carry a gun and we run into border guards, it'll be hard to talk our way out. Without a gun, even if we're caught, I can help us bluff through." Fatty kept whining about the waste.

After passing the flat slope where A Ning had stayed, we reached a valley. We saw the tracks of A Ning's horse team extending into the depths of the valley.

We regrouped there, and Shunzi led us toward the Xiao Sheng mountain pass in another direction. Soon, we entered a white world, with nothing but endless snow and occasional bare rock and ice cones in sight.

Changbai Mountain might be the only snow mountain in the world that you can actually hike up. Compared to the glaciers of Kunlun Mountains, the environment here is far better—no giant ice caps with crevasses, no fear of the ground suddenly breaking beneath your feet. However, Changbai Mountain's glaciers are also typical ancient glaciers, with poor continuity—erosion landforms, potholes, giant cirques, unfathomable ice wells. I haven't studied snow mountain landforms well, so I can't explain much. I only know that often we'd walk and suddenly hit a dead end—a sheer cliff—and we'd have to go around or crawl past, making the trek extremely dangerous.

We traveled without much conversation. What looked like a straight-line distance of a few hours took us nearly a full day. By the time we reached the valley of Xiao Sheng Snow Mountain, it was already dusk.

We set up camp in a snow cave on a slope about five or six hundred meters above the valley and ate something hot. In the high altitude, the starry sky was incredibly clear and brilliant. Chenpi A'si used a compass, combined with his mental astronomical compass and the arrangement of stars, to roughly determine the route for the next day.

Everyone was exhausted from the journey, but it was still early. Fatty pestered Shunzi, asking if there were any hot springs nearby.

Shunzi also had hot springs on his mind, but he said the altitude was already too high here, and he didn't come often, so finding a hot spring would be difficult. If we were bored, we could wander around and look, and also check out an ancient ice burial site about a kilometer from our camp.

Grave robbers always have a special feeling toward corpses. Since we had nothing better to do, we all became curious upon hearing about dead bodies.

Chenpi A'si was too tired to go, so Monk Hua stayed to take care of him. The rest of us followed Shunzi toward the valley to the left of the camp. After less than half an hour, we arrived at a cliff, below which was an ice valley—pitch black, nothing visible. Shunzi found a good spot to stop, lit a cold flare, and tossed it down.

Indeed, in the ice layer at the bottom of the ice valley, there were many dark shadows curled up, densely packed. Some clearly took the shape of humans, while others were just small black dots. Around the ice valley, there were even some traces of rituals.

Shunzi said that in ancient times, the mountain villagers practiced ice burial. Even in the early days of liberation, people were still buried in this ice cliff, so sometimes old people still came here to pay respects. The glacier here thickens year by year, so the innermost bodies—those barely visible dots—might be thousands of years old, while the outermost ones are only a few decades old.

I roughly counted the black dots I could see and found there were thousands upon thousands. Clearly, this frozen cemetery had accumulated countless dead over thousands of years. There should be more such ice valleys in Xiao Sheng Valley. So wouldn't this snow mountain be a giant graveyard?

"Among these bodies, could there be any Dongxia slaves who built the Linggong?" Fatty suddenly asked.

"It's possible," Poker-face said, staring into the depths of the ice valley as the cold light gradually faded, lost in thought.

The bodies were buried in ice, impossible to excavate. We looked around, found it uninteresting, and went to look for hot springs. We actually found a small one. Several of us washed our feet and faces in the hot spring, feeling warm all over, then returned to camp. When we told the others, Monk Hua was very envious.

On a snow mountain, it's strange: when you're warm, you get sleepy; when you're freezing, you also get sleepy. Dinner was noodles. After eating, drowsiness hit us, and the wind started to pick up outside. We all got into our sleeping bags early to rest. Shunzi took the first watch. Since there were many of us, we didn't need to rotate through everyone in one day. Tonight's watch duty was Shunzi, Lang Feng, and Panzi.

I was very tired and fell asleep quickly, thinking I'd have a good sleep. But before an hour passed, Monk Hua, Fatty, Lang Feng, and Panzi all started snoring, one after another, like a symphony. I woke up from a nightmare.

After that, I couldn't fall back asleep. Lying there was uncomfortable, so I crawled out of the tent and said to Shunzi, "Let me switch with you. I'll take your shift, you go sleep for a while."

Shunzi was smoking on his own, staring at the huge black mountain under the moonlight. When he heard my offer to switch, he shook his head and said no need—having taken our money, he couldn't slack off. I thought to myself, suit yourself, and took out a cigarette to refresh myself. I asked him for a light, then added some fuel to the stove and started chatting with him.

Chatting with a guide is an eye-opening experience. I told him a lot about antiques, which he found very interesting. He also told me many local customs and interesting stories about the mountains and forests, keeping me wide awake. We both got more and more energetic as we talked.

Eventually, we got to talking about this expedition. Shunzi told me that he had been a border soldier for seven years, but four of those were as a reservist. Before joining the army, he was a herbalist, so he was very familiar with the snow mountains. His comrades called him "A Lang Cai," meaning "Son of the Snow Mountain." So we could rest assured following him. In these mountains, few people could lead others in, and he was one of them.

I was skeptical—if he was so good, why did he pass out before even entering the mountains? That must be bragging. But seeing how serious he looked, I didn't want to call him out, so I just listened.

As we chatted, our topics multiplied, and we felt closer. Then, Shunzi suddenly asked me, "Boss Wu... actually, what exactly are you here in the mountains for? Can you tell me?"

I was taken aback, momentarily at a loss for an answer. We both fell silent again.

Our purpose? How could I explain it? If I said we were looking for the Cloud Summit Palace, would you believe me? I couldn't say we were tomb raiding, and it was obviously not a tourist trip. It was really hard to say. After thinking for a long time, I finally sighed: "Why do you care? I can't tell you."

Shunzi seemed to have expected that answer. He smiled: "No problem, I was just asking."

I felt uncomfortable because I didn't want to lie to him. So I casually changed the subject and asked him why, since he used to be a herbalist, he later became a snow mountain guide.

Picking herbs on Changbai Mountain is very profitable, much easier than being a thankless guide. That's why there are so few snow mountain guides now.

Shunzi looked at me and suddenly said something that almost made me choke.

He said: "I'm not a professional guide. After retiring from the army, I've been picking herbs. I rarely take people up the mountain, and never go this deep. Usually I turn back at Girl Lake. This is my first time leading a team in here."

I laughed: "Stop joking."

"Really, Mr. Wu, I'm telling you the truth. In this season, no professional guide would take you into the snow mountains. If I didn't bring you in, you'd have to come in on your own." He smiled at me: "It's too dangerous. If it weren't for Buddha's protection, we'd already be dead. To have all of us reach this point is already a miracle. But don't worry—even though I've never led anyone in here, I've come many times on my own. I'm very familiar with the place. Nothing will go wrong."

His expression was very serious; clearly he wasn't joking. I cursed inwardly but was also curious: "Since it's so dangerous, why did you bring us? Are you that desperate for money?"

Shunzi gave me a meaningful look and said, "Money is one factor. Another reason... is my father. He... disappeared ten years ago. At that time, he was also leading a group of people into the snow mountains, on a route similar to yours. But in the end, the entire group vanished in the mountains. I vaguely remember that the tourists who hired him back then looked very similar to your group—same season, same insistence on going up the mountain. So when I saw you all, I suddenly felt I had to come with you. First, I don't want you to die in there like my father. Second, I have a naive thought: maybe the purpose of your expedition is the same as that group from ten years ago, and perhaps I can find out what happened to my father. Of course, this is just my fantasy." He laughed self-deprecatingly: "My father might have just been caught in an avalanche and buried somewhere in these snow mountains."

I realized, "So that's why you asked us why we came into the mountains…?" Shunzi nodded apologetically. "Ah, you don't understand—the feeling of knowing your father lies forever sleeping in this snowy mountain range, yet never being able to see him."

I hadn't expected Shunzi to have such a tender side; I couldn't help seeing him in a new light. I'd always thought of him as just a slick-tongued ordinary guide.

But those tourists who went missing in the snowy mountains ten years ago were dressed much like us—could they have been looking for the Cloud Summit Palace too? My heart skipped a beat, but I quickly dismissed the thought. No, impossible. There are too many places in the Changbai Mountains where a person could disappear. A coincidence like that couldn't happen. His father must have met with some accident and perished in the mountains.

Seeing me silent, Shunzi thought his question had gone too far. He said to me, "Boss Wu, I only told you this because you seem different from the others. I hope you won't mention it to anyone else—I'm afraid they might have concerns."

I thought to myself, I definitely won't say this is your first time bringing people here. Forget what Chenpi A'si might do to you—even Fatty would probably beat you to death.

So I nodded in agreement. Just then, Lang Feng from the second group came out of the tent, yawned, and looked surprised to see us chatting. Shunzi packed up his things, took a piss in the snow, and went to sleep. Having nothing to say to Lang Feng, I greeted him and went back to sleep myself.

Amid the thunderous snoring, I drifted in and out of dreams. I dreamed of Shunzi's father ten years ago—a big-bearded Shunzi leading a group of people up the mountain. Strangely, in the dream, I kept feeling I'd seen those people somewhere before. I tossed and turned, sleeping very restlessly.

The next day, before dawn, we continued hiking along the mountain's contour.

Judging from Shunzi's question yesterday, he must have already known we weren't ordinary hikers. I knew our disguise wasn't great—at the very least, no tourist would push themselves this frantically. But we couldn't care less. As a guide in the Changbai Mountains, he must have long been used to hosting all kinds of mysterious teams. Every year there were poachers, Korean pilgrims, illegal herb gatherers—no less than a thousand, maybe eight hundred. Everyone had secrets. Let him guess what we were up to.

Above the mountainside, the path became even harder. Many sections were slanted, and overhead were towering snowy cliffs tens of thousands of feet high, extremely prone to avalanches, so we couldn't speak loudly. The snow was too thick—thousands of years of snow layers, often hollow underneath. Sometimes a person would sink in up to their chest, unable to get out without help. We could only inch forward cautiously, using long ice picks to carve footholds, like walking through a minefield.

Fatty was the fastest, thanks to his past experience with snow exploration. He took the lead the whole way. Due to altitude sickness, our tongues started to go numb. Except for Chenpi A'si occasionally correcting the direction, the only sound left was heavy breathing. The whole world seemed so silent it felt lifeless.

After crossing the snowy section on the mountainside, we entered a frozen zone flanked by giant snow slopes on both sides. Sunlight rarely reached here, and the snow had turned into frozen soil. The slope grew steeper and steeper, the temperature extremely low. Deep inside, we finally saw the dragon-head treasure cave that Chenpi A'si had pinpointed—a steep cliff face at nearly a sixty-degree angle to the mountain, covered in pristine white snow.

We continued upward, one after another, spreading out as much as possible, and began climbing toward that steep slope using ice picks and ice hammers.

This Lesser Holy Mountain wasn't among the Sixteen Peaks of Changbai, so we hadn't paid it much attention on the way. But it wasn't a nameless minor peak either. It stood opposite the Greater Holy Peak across the valley, forming a mountain pass, standing before the Three Holy Snow Mountains like two guardian warriors. This scenic pass was called "Heavenly Soldiers Guarding the Immortal Gate."

From a feng shui perspective, the two mountains of the Immortal Gate coiled like a tiger and crouched like a dragon, swallowing all directions. Were it not for their location on the Sino-Korean border, a place of constant conflict, this would surely have been a gathering place for imperial and noble tombs. Even someone at my level could see the unique vein of the mountains along the way, carrying a strong dragon aura. Our hypothesis that there was a tomb on the mountain grew even more confident.

Climbing a steep slope was different from walking; it consumed even more energy. After a while, Chenpi A'si reached his limit and couldn't climb any further. Lang Feng had to carry the old man on his back, slowing us down even more.

After about three more hours of trekking, we finally reached the top of the snow slope. By then, I had completely lost my wits, following Fatty purely on reflex.

Fatty was the first to arrive. Even someone as fit as him had reached his limit. After stepping onto the snow, he was a bit delirious. Pretentiously stomping a deep footprint, he spread his arms and said, "For me personally, this is a small step, but for a Mojin Colonel, it's a goddamn leap." Then he collapsed face-first into the snow, motionless.

I was almost completely drained. My legs went weak involuntarily, and I started sliding downward. Panzi tried to pull me up, but after a few tries I couldn't muster any strength, and he ended up tumbling to the ground as well.

I slammed my ice axe into the snow to stop myself. The others also collapsed, gasping white puffs of breath as they looked around.

The snow slope was a vast area, with no visible boundary left or right. Without Chenpi A'si guiding us, you'd never sense anything special. The snow cover was perfectly even, with only a few black bare rocks jutting out. The Three Holy Snow Mountains were now on our left, much closer than yesterday. The holy peaks were capped with dazzling white snow, their massive, monstrous bodies towering and majestic—white tops, black rocks—appearing even steeper than the surrounding peaks. Due to the setting sun, a strange pale blue mist enveloped the whole mountain, giving it an ethereal, immortal air. The scene was incredibly striking.

Ye Cheng panted and sighed, "So beautiful. No wonder they say the Penglai fairyland can't compare to a single glimpse of Changbai. After climbing so long, it was worth it."

Though the group was rough around the edges, everyone was captivated by the sunset beauty around them. Especially here on the snowy peaks, the feeling of standing beneath the dome of heaven was all the more awe-inspiring.

Just as I was about to take out my camera to capture the scenery, Fatty suddenly tapped me and pointed for me to look his way.

Following his finger, I saw that Poker-face had already knelt down, bowing his head with great respect toward the distant Three Holy Snow Mountains. His normally expressionless face revealed a faint, deeply sorrowful look.