Before recounting his own ordeal, Old Li made an exception and spoke to me of his ancestry. He was from Xinzhou in Jiangxi province. Xinzhou was the location of Mount Mao, and Old Li was descended from true disciples of the Mao Shan sect. However, once he joined the army, everyone believed in atheism, and given the less-than-stellar reputation of the Mao Shan lineage, he never mentioned it to anyone, fearing misunderstanding or unnecessary trouble.

It was in that facility with the faceless communications station that he volunteered to stand guard outside. This was because the strange phenomena he observed bore a striking resemblance to something Master Banqin had once told him about. This matter held immense significance, touching upon the very survival of certain sects, which is why he dared not easily consult with us—especially not me, as I was known for my impatience. Thus, he resolved to scout the situation alone first…

So, that day, Old Li took Lion and left the communications station to keep watch. The journey was marked by a dark, windy, and intensely cold night, which goes without saying. They had traveled about three or four li to the northwest of the station when Lion became unusually agitated, barking incessantly while tugging at Old Li’s trousers, pulling him forward. Lion only behaved so aberrantly when sensing an unfamiliar person, so Old Li, unwilling to be careless, quickly loaded a round into his rifle. He then noticed numerous scattered footprints by the roadside, seemingly coming down from the mountain but twisting and turning before vanishing somewhere unknown.

The footprints were remarkably fresh, suggesting they had passed by not long ago. To think that someone had descended from the mountain, and in considerable numbers at that, immediately put Old Li on high alert. At that moment, however, his wariness was purely political; he suspected enemy agents taking advantage of the chaos to steal intelligence. He didn't dwell on deeper meanings and simply followed the tracks.

As brave as Old Li was, venturing into those desolate mountains, even with Lion, brought a chill to his heart. Initially, he intended to track the footprints, but then he reasoned that even if they were up to mischief at our assigned station, it wouldn't be for at least another two days. Moreover, he knew the shortcuts down the mountain and could easily return ahead of those people. So, he decided it would be better to follow the tracks uphill and see if they had set any traps.

Slowly, Old Li ascended the mountain, following the footprints. Along the way, Lion became exceptionally vigilant, constantly looking around, never leaving Old Li’s side. Old Li knew Lion’s habits well and understood that the dog was certainly sensing danger by sticking so close to its master, the objective being to ensure his safety. This realization instantly tensed every nerve in his body. His eyes scanned every direction, his ears strained for every sound, and his hands gripped the rifle tightly, ready to fire at the first sign of trouble.

Lion shed its usual indolence and led the way with uncanny perceptiveness. Old Li didn't notice anything strange at first until Lion brought him to a corpse, at which point he realized the situation was more complex than mere enemy agents. The body was that of the Japanese soldier we had encountered earlier, whose remains had since dissolved into pinkish fluid.

Of course, when Old Li first saw the corpse, it had not yet liquefied into pink fluid. The body was still slightly warm, suggesting it had died very recently. Old Li recognized the uniform and knew it was a Japanese man. Thinking that regardless of his character in life, the man was just a pitiful soul in death, Old Li prepared to bury him on the spot. But as soon as he reached out, a flash of white light shot past, immediately followed by a white python, as thick as an adult’s arm, appearing one or two meters from the corpse. It hissed, flicking its forked tongue, staring menacingly at Old Li. Seeing this, Lion immediately began barking fiercely at the white python, which seemed somewhat fearful of the dog, flicking its tongue but refraining from attacking.

Old Li was also stunned; he had never seen such a large snake. He remained perfectly still, terrified that the white python might strike him by accident. Lion continued to bark, and after a tense standoff, the white python surprisingly slipped away without a sound. Overjoyed, Old Li quickly tried to move the body, but the moment he touched it—even before applying any force—the snake flashed back into view with a swish. Its reappearance caused Lion to snarl with fighting intent. The white python kept its distance, circling about two meters away, attempting to attack Old Li several times, but was driven back each time by Lion. Naturally, Old Li dared not move the corpse again. After a while, the white python vanished on its own once more.

When the white python disappeared, Old Li tried to move the body again, only for the snake to descend from above the moment he made a move… Again and again, Old Li finally understood: the white python would not allow anyone to touch the corpse, as if it belonged to the creature. As long as he left the body alone, it meant him no harm. Realizing this, Old Li ceased his efforts. If anyone was to blame, it was only this Japanese man for dying in the wrong place.

In the dead of night, having encountered both the white python and the corpse, Old Li had no inclination left to scout further. Furthermore, the python’s sudden appearance was bizarre, and he couldn't be certain that snakes could survive at such an altitude. Thus, he decided to return to discuss the matter with us and, at the same time, send someone back to the communications station down the mountain to warn them about the Japanese.

Stumbling back to the abandoned communications station with Lion, Old Li arrived just as Shan. Ben and his men were dissecting the faceless Wang Weicheng. Peering through a crack in the door, he clearly saw the crystal black scorpion. He did not push the door open, as the Japanese inside wore the same uniforms as the corpse he had encountered—they were the same group. This meant the Japanese had likely already been up the mountain; whether they had found what they were looking for, he didn't know. If they had, given our limited equipment and strength, we might not be able to take it back by force; only stealth would suffice.

From that moment on, Old Li tracked us closely. Only after the white python bit Horita did he leave, silently tracking the white python in another direction. The Japanese, having lost track of the white python near the hot spring, didn't dwell on it too much. They headed further up the mountain, found a cave, and then turned back to look for us.

With Lion leading the way, Old Li easily tracked the white python to a huge fissure between rocks behind the hot spring, where it slithered in. Without hesitation, Old Li jumped in after it. However, the white python was exceptionally cunning and agile, disappearing in a few quick swishes.

The fissure was long and wide, filled with an indescribable, foul stench. The ground was entirely covered in the desiccated outer husks of yaks, wild donkeys, and blue sheep, layered densely so there wasn't a single patch of bare ground to stand on. With so many animal remains, it was impossible to tell how many years the white python had been preying here. It was likely that either all the mountain animals had been eaten, or they had been scared away entirely. Otherwise, why would it risk attacking humans?

Old Li, already aware of many things, grasped the situation upon seeing the state of the white python's lair. He knew the python posed far less danger than other entities and planned to lead Lion out of the cave to rendezvous with us first.

But just as he raised his foot to leave, the layers of animal skins and husks in the middle of the fissure suddenly flew open with a whoosh, parting to the sides. Immediately after, a person slowly stood up from the center. Old Li was utterly terrified, his soul nearly flying out of his body. He scrambled to crawl out, but although the fissure wasn't deep, it was unusually slick. His feet slipped, and he couldn't gain purchase several times. Watching the figure slowly and stiffly walk toward him, step by laborious step, Old Li's heart leaped into his throat. He forgot he held a rifle and also forgot about Lion, who carried the bloodline of a Tibetan Mastiff.

At that moment, Lion suddenly asserted itself, letting out a fierce bark and lunging at the person. The figure failed to dodge in time, and Lion sank its teeth into its calf, tearing away a large patch of skin. Despite this severe wound, the person didn't utter a sound of pain. He simply shifted slightly to the side, managing to evade the main force of Lion's attack. Lion, having won the initial engagement, strangely did not press the attack. Instead, it quickly retrieved the piece of flayed skin from the person’s leg and trotted back to Old Li, clearly seeking praise.

Old Li, gathering his courage, stared closely at what Lion had brought him: it was nothing but a piece of dried human skin, shriveled and withered—certainly not fresh flesh. Looking at the person's calf again, where the large piece of skin had been torn away, there was no blood, only a black, desiccated wound.

Old Li assumed it was either a reanimated corpse or a Jiangshi (Chinese hopping vampire). As a descendant of Mao Shan, now that he understood the situation, he was no longer afraid of such things, especially since he carried a Thunder-Struck Peachwood Sword. He quickly drew it out. Due to the intense fright earlier, his strength hadn't fully returned, so he could only wait for the figure to advance, intending to stab it anywhere on its body to finish the job.

Lion crouched by Old Li’s feet, continuously barking fiercely at the figure. The figure seemed wary, unwilling to approach directly, instead slowly swaying its body left and right, as if searching for a good angle of attack. Old Li realized it was intimidated by Lion and tried to move the dog aside so he could deal with the figure. However, Lion, usually extremely obedient, whimpered and refused to leave Old Li’s side.

Old Li, bold in his skill, ignored the dog's strange behavior and bent down to lift Lion and toss it aside. Just as he bent over, the figure flashed forward with blinding speed, aiming for Old Li’s head. Old Li saw only a flash of white light at the figure's feet. Without thinking, he instinctively clasped his hands over his head and rolled away on the ground. Simultaneously, Lion leaped up and bit down hard on the white light beneath the figure’s feet. The figure cried out in pain, abandoning the attack on Old Li, struggling desperately to shake off the dog, yet daring not turn around to attack it.

Old Li rolled several times and, seeing the figure did not press its attack, glanced over to see that beneath the person was actually a long serpentine body, which Lion currently held fast in its jaws. Forgetting his fear, he quickly got up, holding his rifle in one hand and the peachwood sword in the other. He considered firing, but the snake’s tail whipped out in front of him, then to the left and right. Lion held it so tightly that he risked accidentally shooting the dog. The figure's body swayed constantly with the thrashing tail. He considered stabbing with the peachwood sword, but seeing the living, writhing tail, he hesitated, wondering if the Thunder-Struck Peachwood Sword, meant for malevolent spirits, would be effective against what seemed less like a reanimated corpse and more like a creature.

While he hesitated, a snap echoed, and the lion dropped straight down from the snake’s body, a large chunk of bloody snake flesh held firmly in its jaws. The figure, stung by the pain, immediately collapsed to the ground, writhing and struggling.

Lion was also injured; as it fell from the snake’s body, it landed on a sharp rock, tearing its hindquarters, which began to bleed profusely. Anxious for his dog, Old Li rushed to pick up Lion and bandage the wound. Despite being hurt, Lion remained ferociously brave, spitting out the snake flesh and attempting several times to rush the figure again, but was sternly called back by Old Li’s sharp shouts.

Once the wound was bandaged, the moment Old Li let go, Lion roared and charged, tearing and biting furiously at the figure. There was no cry of agony, only pieces of human skin flying everywhere. Then, an unbelievable sight unfolded…