After I packed up my own things, it was already past ten in the morning. Old Li and the others were slightly faster; they had already eaten breakfast and were waiting for me by the base of the giant tree.

The sight of Section Chief Wang and his group still made a chill run down my spine. Who knew if these fellows would go crazy again and try to bite me?

Touching the pistol tucked at my waist was the only thing that brought me a sliver of ease. Yet, I knew it was merely self-deception. Even if they truly lost control, they were, after all, our own people. Could I really bring myself to shoot my own comrades?

Trailing at the very end of the group like a limpet clinging to a shell, my mind replayed last night’s events over and over. Collective sleepwalking might explain some of what happened, but how did it account for their eyes—only black pupils with no visible whites? Moreover, even sleepwalking shouldn't reach this extreme! Could it truly be ghosts?

A host of questions gave me a splitting headache. This whole affair, from the very beginning, had been riddled with mysteries—whether it was the new recruit's footprints or the appearance of Section Chief Wang and the others. Everything seemed to be explicable only through the lens of demonic possession. Otherwise, why would Old Li have asked me if I believed in ghosts?

I vigorously shook my head, abandoning the notion of finding immediate clues. These events must have their reasons; they couldn't possibly be the work of goblins or phantoms. I firmly believed that everything must have a scientific explanation—the lack of one was simply due to no one having provided it yet.

……The group walked a bit slower than the day before. After struggling over a ridge, we encountered the lion halfway up the slope. The creature was clearly living well, gnawing on half a rabbit. Upon seeing us, it merely flicked a glance our way.

Section Chief Wang and his men hadn't eaten much since yesterday, nor had they complained of hunger; it seemed they didn't even register the need. Unexpectedly, seeing the lion tearing at the bloody, raw rabbit, these men became unnaturally still, staring intently at the animal.

The lion always ate swiftly. Under the hawk-eyed gaze of Section Chief Wang’s group, it calmly dispatched the remainder of the rabbit in just a few bites to satisfy its stomach. Only then did Section Chief Wang and the others seem to return to a semblance of normalcy.

After a brief rest, Old Li whistled the lion back and led it to the front of the group to scout the path. I walked in the middle, with Section Chief Wang’s group lagging behind. Based on my calculations, they should have been completely exhausted by now. However, although they lagged behind us, they showed no signs of fatigue; instead, they exhibited subtle traces of being overly energized.

Crossing a mountain ridge lined with pine trees, a snow-capped peak finally revealed itself from the swirling clouds—this was the highest mountain in the vicinity: Mount Qiangkeba.

The instant I saw Mount Qiangkeba, I clearly saw Old Li’s face instantly drain of color, his hand gripping the dog’s leash trembling uncontrollably. As for Section Chief Wang and the others, they seemed, uncharacteristically, to have quieted down.

I am no mountaineer, so I naturally had no interest in the arduous and thankless task of climbing. Consequently, I held no interest in mountains. But Mount Qiangkeba was an exception. This peak, reaching only 4,354 meters, possessed a mysterious allure; every year, it claimed several lives within its sphere of influence.

When I first arrived, I had climbed the small hill behind the communications station with Xiaozhou. I had glimpsed this snowy peak occasionally emerging from the clouds then. It was the first time I had ever seen a snow mountain in my life, and my somewhat romantic sensibilities almost compelled me to compose a poem to express my excitement.

But before the poem could be finished, Xiaozhou quickly pulled me down the mountain, spending the descent recounting the legends associated with this peak.

According to him, Mount Qiangkeba harbored a mountain spirit, and anyone who dared look directly at the mountain while the sun was shining would be cursed by that spirit.

At the time, I heaped praise upon Xiaozhou, calling him a pioneer in bridging ethnic cultures and a model of military-civilian unity. The more I spoke, the clearer my underlying message became: I was mocking him for being superstitious and incapable of achieving anything great.

Now, however, seeing this mountain suddenly emerge, coupled with Old Li’s expression, a coldness crept up my back. Could it be that this mountain was truly strange? Or perhaps Section Chief Wang and his men were simply cursed by the mountain spirit of Mount Qiangkeba?

The shiver on my back was followed by a distinct drop in temperature, instantly raising goosebumps across my entire body.

Old Li glanced up at the sky and said with a note of anxiety, "It’s going to snow. We need to get up the mountain quickly; I know where there's shelter."

The lion again took the lead. Sometimes I even suspected the creature was a cross between a Tibetan Mastiff and a hound, as it had been performing the duties of a hunting dog the entire way, despite clearly having the face of a Mastiff and the heart of a hound.

Distracted, the men under Section Chief Wang actually overtook me, moving into the middle of the group. Realizing I had drifted to the very rear, a more intense chill washed over me. I instantly began to shiver violently, finding it difficult even to speak; my teeth chattered together incessantly ("ge ge ge"), and my tongue felt sluggish. A wave of dread hit me—was I perhaps afflicted by that very curse?

Having always been a non-believer in spirits and gods, after encountering so many strange events, my heart began to waver.

Old Li noticed my distress from up ahead. Perhaps my complexion was indeed frightening at that moment. He quickly hurried to my side, grasped my arm, and urgently asked, "Technician Luo, what’s wrong?"

By then, I was so chilled that I felt weak, and my lips had turned purple. Seeing this, Old Li hastily pulled out his thermos and poured a large mouthful of hot water down my throat.

The hot water drove away much of the coldness, and after a while, I finally regained some strength. "There was a sudden chill, I almost froze to death," I managed.

Old Li looked at me worriedly, paused, and then pulled a packet from inside his coat, placing it in my hand. The packet wasn't heavy, and it made a slight rustling sound when held, suggesting it was some kind of medicinal herb. What exactly it was, I would only learn later once we were deeper in the mountains.

After handing me the packet, Old Li straightened his clothes and said with relief, "With this, there should be no problem. Technician Luo, we can stay in a building tonight; there's lodging just ahead."

Though I had recovered somewhat, I was still terribly cold. Hearing that there was a place to rest, I quickly clenched my jaw and nodded my assent.

Old Li led me back to the front of the group.

Our communications station was situated at an altitude of only about 3,200 meters. Here, the elevation was at least close to 5,000 meters; in fact, it should have been higher, because after not much more walking, I was already near exhaustion. Altitude sickness, coupled with the pain radiating from various parts of my body, made every step a monumental challenge.

Of course, Old Li was no longer comfortable either. We were nearly two thousand meters higher than the terrain we were familiar with. If he were still striding along effortlessly, I would have begun to suspect that he, too, was cursed and no longer entirely human.

Given the current circumstances, I was practically certain that Section Chief Wang and his men were cursed. Otherwise, as men accustomed to low-altitude living, there was no way they could keep pace with us at an altitude where both Old Li and I were struggling. I even suspected that if they didn't need the lion for guidance, they would have abandoned us entirely to hunt down that deserter on their own.

"The next ridge up—cross that, and we’ll be there," Old Li said.

Old Li's lips were also turning purple from the cold. I followed the direction of his finger and saw, halfway up the slope, the remains of concrete steps, though they looked so dilapidated and ruined that it was impossible to guess how many years they had been there.

My stamina was nearing its limit. Hearing Old Li say we could rest there, I summoned my courage and pushed myself to the absolute limit, leading the group to the front.

As I approached the remnants of the steps, a desolate feeling washed over me. These steps were far older than they appeared from a distance, densely etched with the marks of wind, sand, rain, and snow. The lowest few steps crumbled into pieces at the slightest touch, rolling down the mountain.

In any other location, such ancient, decaying steps would be unremarkable. But appearing suddenly at the foot of an isolated, snowy mountain imbued the sight with a sense of the bizarre. No matter how I looked at it, the structure felt distinctly out of place.

Not many of the steps remained. After our party climbed them, we found a similarly ruined concrete platform, about the size of a small sedan. On the other side of this platform, there was another set of concrete steps, but these were in much better condition than the ones we had ascended. At least the portion leading up into the clouds seemed relatively intact.

As for what lay concealed in the mist, it was impossible to guess. The mere sudden appearance of man-made structures in such a remote location was astonishing enough to cause profound confusion.

Naturally, I was profoundly surprised, but the oxygen deprivation had slowed my thinking considerably, and I didn't react immediately. It wasn't until Section Chief Wang and his men strode past me to the very front that I realized something was amiss. I quickly pulled Old Li back and asked, "What is this place?"

This time, Old Li was more direct than before, answering flatly, "This is the original communications station."

Communications station?!

I soon knew Old Li was telling the truth, because I saw letters constructed from pieces of white porcelain—a common feature of construction work done by earlier military units.

"August 22, 1985. Wang Weicheng." This was the date the path was built, followed by the constructor's name. However, the name sounded strangely familiar, but my head was spinning too badly to recall who it was.

Old Li seemed to have visited this place before. As soon as he set foot on this path, he fell silent. Even the lion, which had been quite active, grew subdued; instead of roaming, it stuck close to Old Li’s side, following his every step.

I suddenly recalled someone saying that Tibetan Mastiffs have excellent memories—if they meet a person once, they remember them for life. The same was supposedly true for places. If that held, did it mean the lion had also been here before and suffered some mishap, which accounted for its current timidity and caution?

Seeing the lion acting as if facing a mortal enemy, another chill ran down my spine, as if something within the mist was scrutinizing our every move.