As I left, Section Chief Wang looked at me, eyes wide with terror, and stammered, "Snake… it bit us!"

I immediately thought he’d been bitten and rushed to ask where he was injured. Section Chief Wang shook his head, stuttering out, "Bit… bit… Yamamoto…" I glared at him, thinking if it bit Yamamoto, why was he so scared? But in that instant, I completely overlooked the fact that in this high-altitude, arid environment lacking vegetation, there shouldn't have been any snakes at all.

Just as I was thinking this, Yamamoto approached us, looking both alarmed and frightened. "Why? Luo-kun… why are there snakes at this altitude?" Seemingly impatient with Zhuoma Yangjin’s translation, he addressed me directly in Chinese with a tone bordering on accusation.

I was taken aback by his tone, as if I were the one who had released the snakes. "How should I know?" I retorted coldly, unwilling to engage further.

Yamamoto then turned to question Zhuoma Yangjin. She was standing right next to me, and though I didn't understand the specifics of their exchange, it appeared the little Japanese was asking the same question. After hearing him, Zhuoma Yangjin looked utterly astonished. She turned to me and asked, "Technician Luo? How can there be a White Python? Isn't the White Python only something found in the folk tales of us Han people?"

"A White Python?" Now I was confused too. "Are you saying Yamamoto claimed a White Python just now bit him?"

Zhuoma Yangjin nodded gravely. "Yes, a White Python, as thick as an adult's arm, suddenly darted out from the roadside and tried to bite Yamamoto-kun... Fortunately, he dodged it."

"A white snake the size of an arm?" I thought I misheard and repeated the question to Zhuoma Yangjin.

She nodded. "Yamamoto-kun said it was also very long, at least three or four meters…"

Impossible! Snakes are cold-blooded animals whose growth is tied to external temperatures between 20 and 30 degrees Celsius. Furthermore, they prefer shady, humid, secluded areas overgrown with weeds, dense trees, and abundant food sources. Yet, we were on Mount Qiangbake, at an elevation of at least 5,000 meters—the air was thin, the climate brutally cold and dry, and vegetation virtually non-existent. It was an environment where snakes simply could not survive. As for their description—as thick as an adult arm and three or four meters long—that size qualifies it as some kind of python. Pythons are generally mild-tempered and won't attack humans unless severely threatened or starving to the point of desperation. None of those points were the real issue; the core problem was that pythons inhabit tropical rainforests and subtropical humid forests, environments entirely incompatible with our current surroundings…

This was common knowledge, so I didn't bother explaining it to them, assuming everyone present knew at least a little.

An inexplicable chill ran down my spine, and an indefinable terror began to surface.

Although frightened, Yamamoto ordered us to continue forward after a brief rest since the White Python had not reappeared.

We walked cautiously for a while. I expected the White Python to attack again, but it never showed itself. Finally, the tension in my chest began to ease.

To conserve energy, I stopped chatting with Zhuoma Yangjin. The little Japanese, intentionally or not, gradually lagged a few steps behind us. As a result, Section Chief Wang, Officer Liu, and I were walking at the front of the group.

Along the way, Section Chief Wang and Officer Liu exhibited surprising stamina, showing no signs of fatigue, while I walked panting, stopping after every few steps. Inadvertently, those two ended up leading the entire procession once more.

I planned to walk a few more steps and then sit down entirely to rest. That little Japanese could walk by himself if he wanted to… Just as I was making this decision, Section Chief Wang and Officer Liu, who had been chattering incessantly, suddenly stopped dead. Half a second later, they both cried out and retreated in unison toward my side.

"What is it? What is it? Is it a snake?" I asked, backing away with them while constantly scanning our surroundings, yet seeing no sign of a snake…

Section Chief Wang and Officer Liu continued to shove me backward in sheer fright. "What's going on?" Annoyed, I stopped them from pushing me further. "You won't speak—is it a snake?!"

It seemed as though the two had snapped back to reality. Section Chief Wang managed an embarrassed smile toward me, perhaps realizing that such cowardice didn't suit the image of a Lieutenant Colonel, so he tried hard to mask his fear. "Ahead… there’s a dead body ahead…"

What’s so scary about a dead body? I couldn't help but inwardly look down on the Wang-Liu duo, scorning them intensely. After that internal critique, I brushed past them and walked forward.

Sure enough, after only a couple of steps, I saw a corpse lying beside the path. The moment I saw the clothing on the body, I couldn't help but smile—it was the same uniform as the little Japanese behind us. They must be accomplices. It would be better to let the Japanese handle the mourning. So, I stopped, turned back, and adopted an exaggeratedly sorrowful tone. "Yamamoto-kun, this corpse doesn't look Chinese… come take a look."

Yamamoto froze for a moment upon hearing this, then rushed forward in two steps. I subtly moved aside to let him pass. Before Yamamoto could kneel down to weep over the body, the remaining four Japanese soldiers rushed over, screaming wildly, their boots kicking up clouds of gravel…

"Baka!!" Yamamoto’s voice, a mix of shock and fury, suddenly reached my ears. I was waiting for a good show, so why wasn't there any sign of grief, but rather an outburst of cursing? I quickly squeezed closer to look, and at that sight, I let out a sharp intake of breath, almost losing my footing. The corpse was continuously oozing a pink, liquid substance. With every drop that flowed out, the body seemed to collapse slightly, as if… as if the person was truly just a skin sac filled with that pink liquid. I looked at the cursing Yamamoto; he was crouching on the ground, his uniform splashed with some of the substance.

"Baka!!!!" Yamamoto shot up, grinding his teeth as he cursed his subordinates. At that moment, Zhuoma Yangjin also squeezed through. "Technician Luo, what is happening?"

I was too frightened to speak and merely pointed a finger at the corpse before stepping back to give Zhuoma Yangjin room.

I had never seen such a body—perfectly intact on the surface, yet filled entirely with pink fluid inside! This fear was beyond description in words… I collapsed weakly onto the roadside…

"Move away, quickly…" Before I could recover, Zhuoma Yangjin rushed over and violently dragged me aside. "Quickly, quickly, get away from that body!"

"What’s wrong?" I asked while struggling to stand up.

Zhuoma Yangjin didn't answer, just kept pulling me away. Then, the group of Japanese soldiers fled toward us as if avoiding the plague, their faces masks of terror. Then, I saw the corpse again. It had shriveled considerably, and the pink fluid, like thick milk, was spreading across the ground. This time, without waiting for Zhuoma Yangjin, I scrambled backward, crawling and rolling in sheer panic…

After running about dozens of meters, the Japanese soldiers were the first to stop. Once stopped, Yamamoto began shouting at his subordinates again.

I also stopped, gasping for breath, and asked Zhuoma Yangjin, "Yangjin, Yamamoto seems to be scolding them. Why?"

Zhuoma Yangjin smoothed her hair, panting heavily herself, and explained the situation haltingly. It turned out the corpse held immense value, and Yamamoto had intended to study it thoroughly. However, one of the Japanese soldiers accidentally kicked a stone against the body. Unexpectedly, the corpse was incredibly decayed; the impact split it open, causing the pink liquid to splash out. Yamamoto was squatting nearby at the time and couldn't dodge in time, getting quite a bit on his clothes. Yamamoto was cursing everyone because he feared the pink liquid might be poisonous, yet he was also furious that a theoretically intact, highly valuable corpse had been ruined.

"We could tell from the clothes it was one of their comrades; why didn't Yamamoto seem sad?" I asked again.

"Death… this involves the faith of the Yamato people. Don't look too far into it; in short, they will stop at nothing to achieve their goals," Zhuoma Yangjin said suggestively.

But I was both exhausted and terrified, unable to contemplate such complexities. I plopped down onto the ground, intending to lie down. Just as I started to lean back, Zhuoma Yangjin suddenly grabbed my arm with desperate force.

"What is it?" The grip hurt, forcing me to sit upright again. I saw her biting her lip, her eyes wide, staring in the direction of the corpse. I followed her gaze: a White Python, as thick as an arm, was slowly slithering toward the body. It extended its long tongue, first darting it tentatively over the corpse twice, then dipped its tongue into the pool of pink liquid on the ground. Immediately, the liquid on the ground began to diminish—it turned out the tongue functioned like a straw, sucking up the fluid!

I was petrified, daring not make a sound. No one dared to utter a sound in that bizarre scene, lest they anger the White Python.

The liquid seemed to be its delicious food. In a short while, the python had sucked the ground dry. Its body visibly plumped up a bit. Then, seemingly still unsatisfied, it extended its tongue again toward the gash on the corpse. Within tens of seconds, the corpse rapidly desiccated into a brittle, papery husk.

The White Python still hadn't had enough. It coiled its tail around the body and brought it toward its mouth. I assumed it was going to eat the corpse, but instead, it wrapped around it tightly, squeezing. The body was quickly compressed into a ball, and not another drop of pink fluid flowed out. After a long struggle, the python seemed to lose patience. It flicked its body, released the corpse, and vanished in a silent streak.

I presumed everyone there was as stunned as I was; nobody dared to breathe loudly long after the White Python disappeared.

After a long pause, Zhuoma Yangjin hugged my arm and began to sob uncontrollably. Only then did I snap back to reality.

After Zhuoma Yangjin finished crying, Yamamoto came to find her. Judging by his expression, he must have been badly frightened too, but strangely, I detected a faint hint of excitement in him—I couldn't be certain.

Yamamoto whispered something to Zhuoma Yangjin, then returned to the other four Japanese soldiers. I asked Zhuoma Yangjin what the little Japanese wanted. She seemed to be deliberately concealing something, acting utterly composed as if the earlier terror hadn't existed. With extreme nonchalance, she said, "Yamamoto-kun says he can confirm the deserter is nearby."