The main chamber of this ancient tomb had not been backfilled with original earth, preserving a certain volume of underground space. Descending through a fissure, one immediately spotted a small cluster of ghostly blue light. That ball of eerie, bluish flame, no larger than a fingernail clipping, instantly dispersed a unique, sinister, restless energy into the air with the slightest movement.

I was no stranger to these so-called blue "Dapu"; they were old foes. Just days before, I had been forced by them to jump into the lake, barely escaping the ordeal of being consumed by fire. I slowly shifted my steps, moving down into the burial chamber. Based on past experience, the Dapu demonic insects would not ignite inanimate objects; anything alive that touched them would instantly burn to ash. Their only weakness was water.

The silent pistol behind my head gave me no time to deliberate. Its cold muzzle continuously urged me forward, as the sound of howling wolves was growing ever closer. I instinctively touched the canteen at my waist and was immediately overcome by despair; the water in the military canteen had frozen solid the moment it left the supply station, making it utterly useless for splashing.

Steward Xu also realized this sinkhole was an ancient tomb, faintly illuminated by a glimmer of ghostly fire within the chamber. He cursed his luck under his breath, hiding behind me while shining his flashlight inside, hoping to gauge the situation. If it was haunted, it would be better to flee early and find another shelter.

As I moved downward, I took advantage of the beam from Steward Xu’s flashlight to get a clear view of the chamber's layout. It was perhaps no more than ten square meters, dominated by a stone platform in the center—the tomb bed—carved in the shape of a crouching giant wolf, upon which lay a corpse dressed in bizarre attire. A snow-white mask covered its head, painted with a look of almost mocking peculiarity in vivid red. The entire body was encased in a tarnished silver chainmail, while the undergarments were indistinct and unrecognizable. Its hands and feet were wrapped in animal hides, obscuring any indication of protruding parts. This strange ancient corpse left a profound impression on me in that single sweep of my eyes.

Beneath the wolf-shaped tomb bed sat a basin-like stone bowl containing the body of a small, short corpse. Judging by its stature, it seemed to be a child, also wearing a mask and wrapped in the same tarnished silver net as the prone ancient corpse.

The floor of the chamber was littered with black ash, suggesting that the previous group, who never returned, had all perished here by fire. Anyone unaware of the details, trying to help others, could have instantly incinerated all dozen-plus people. This ancient tomb held approximately three fire insects; two were sealed within the bodies of the Company Commander and the communicator. The one remaining here likely belonged to the one that burned the cook, Old Sun.

My hands were slick with cold sweat as I was coerced toward the center of the chamber. Steward Xu hesitated at the mouth of the passage. The wolf howls seemed right outside; turning back now was too late, but the ancient tomb felt like a cursed place, one he desperately wanted to avoid entering unless absolutely necessary.

I suddenly noticed the ghostly fire in the tomb retracting toward a corner. Steward Xu’s flashlight beam followed it, revealing that the light wasn't coming from an insect at all, but from Lu Weiguo of the Geological Survey Institute. His expression was agonizing; he clawed incessantly at his chest. When he opened his mouth, a plume of cold blue light escaped. I quickly asked, "Old Lu, what's wrong with you?"

Lu Weiguo looked at me helplessly, then suddenly collapsed to his knees, coughing violently. With every cough, a spray of dark red ash emerged, as if his internal organs and respiratory tract were burning up inside him. After only a few more coughs, Lu Weiguo curled up on the ground, consumed from the inside out by the fierce flames erupting from his chest cavity, turning him into a pile of black dust.

In the black ash left after the burning, a single blue pinpoint of light suddenly leaped into the air, spinning rapidly. In the vast, dark chamber, a noise reminiscent of a ladybug vibrating its wings filled the air.

I hastily retreated, trying to avoid the strike of that Dapu ghost-worm. But Steward Xu had witnessed the scene; he shoved my back, catching me completely off guard. I lost my balance and stumbled toward the Dapu ghost-worm. Though I lost control of my center of gravity, I knew with absolute clarity that even the slightest touch meant utter annihilation.

In desperation, I bit down hard and broke my tongue, spraying a mouthful of blood directly at the Dapu ghost-worm before me. The blue ghostly fire emitted by this demonic insect was remarkably faint and was instantly extinguished by my gush of blood. Unable to see clearly in the darkness whether it was dead or not, I seized the canteen, now full of ice, and began smashing it wildly against the ground in front of me.

Then I heard Steward Xu call from behind, "Not bad, Hu Bayi, you've got some moves. Hurry up and push that stone bed under the corpse over here to block the opening, quick! Listen, the wolf pack is almost here." Still shaken, I turned to look at Steward Xu, thinking what a bastard he was, truly treating me like a battering ram. How could I find an opportunity to finish him off? Just then, I suddenly noticed a large white face materializing in the darkness behind Steward Xu. The face was stark white and covered in fine hair, dominated by a single, eerie green eye that gleamed coldly. This was the source of the sleepless nights for the herdsmen—the white demon of the grasslands, the one-eyed wolf king.

Beginning in '69, in the drive to promote revolution and production, and to protect socialist property, a massive campaign to eradicate wolves commenced. In the supply and marketing cooperatives, a whole wolf pelt could be used as currency to exchange for various daily necessities. For any wolf hunt, the locality could request assistance from the military—personnel and firearms provided as needed. Wolves died or scattered, and the rest understood that their doom was near; the divine power of the Moon of the Demon would no longer protect their proud fangs.

The last surviving hungry wolves were forced to hide in the high mountains, unfamiliar territory. This region was cold, high-altitude, and oxygen-deprived, offering few beasts for prey. Dying in the Kunlun Mountains was simply a matter of sooner or later. Furthermore, the wolves of Tibet would never enter a temple—a fact modern people cannot explain.

But these wolves were desperate. Smelling the scent of the dead carried on the wind, they broke the thousand-year taboo and intruded upon the ruins of the Great Phoenix Temple. I only learned of the wolves' agitation later. At that moment, seeing a huge, pale-furred wolf suddenly loom up behind Steward Xu in the tomb's darkness, its eyes gleaming greedily in the dark, I was truly startled.

A thought flashed through my mind. I stood up where I was and asked Steward Xu, "Old Xu, have you ever heard what to do if a wolf attempts to 'rest a shoulder' on you?"

Steward Xu paused, then shook his pistol at me. "What wolf 'resting a shoulder'? I told you to move that wolf-shaped stone bed to block the door, hurry up! If you dawdle any longer..." Before he could finish, the white-haired wolf king behind him stood upright on its hind legs. The creature was massive; standing up, it towered a full head over Steward Xu. Both forepaws rested on his shoulders, and as it bared its fangs, a string of saliva dripped from its mouth.

Steward Xu felt something abruptly grip his shoulders, and he caught a whiff of stench. Acting on instinct, he twisted his head back to look, immediately exposing his neck to the one-eyed wolf king. The sharp fangs plunged instantly into his carotid artery, sucking down great draughts of his blood. At such a moment, even holding a gun was useless. Steward Xu kicked his legs wildly, and the gun clattered to the floor. He was about to be drained dry by the hungry wolves, his flesh eaten clean, leaving only a pile of white bones.

Seeing my chance, I sprang out from the side. As I ran past Steward Xu, I shouted, "If a wolf tries to 'rest a shoulder,' never look back! Once you look back, not even a god can save you."

The silver fur on the white wolf's chest was already stained crimson with blood. Blinded by hunger, it paid no attention to anything else. I fled the tomb. Upon exiting, the first thing I saw was the full moon hanging high in the sky. Two old wolves were circling the corpse of Physician Gama. Seeing this, I felt a strange confusion. These wolves were red-eyed with hunger, and Gama had only recently died; why weren't they pouncing on the body to tear it apart? I knew wolves were inherently suspicious; they must have sensed something amiss, causing them to hesitate.

These two aging wolves were likely the wolf king's advisors, always staying close to the king. The more suspicious they were, the less they dared to eat the meat offered right to their mouths. I wondered if Gama was still alive? How many other wolves had entered the ancient temple? What about Lama and Big Guy? As soon as I thought of this, the two old wolves spotted me and snarled as they charged. I picked up the rifle previously dropped on the ground and fired, knocking down the first one that leaped at me.

However, the other lunged at me simultaneously. Although this wolf was old, it was still a wild beast, cunning and experienced, recognizing the lethality of the Type 56 semi-automatic rifle. Its jaws clamped onto the rifle's body, and its claws raked wildly across my chest, tearing several large gashes in my padded coat. In the cold air, white puffs of breath issued from the wolf’s mouth and nostrils, and the only scent I perceived was the rank musk of the wolf.

The old wolf and I tumbled together, locked in a stalemate. Then, several gunshots rang out, and the jaws holding the rifle slowly loosened. Standing opposite me was Gama, raising his pistol, the muzzle still smoking.

Surprised and overjoyed, I scrambled up from the ground and asked, "Ga Hong, you’re alive? Didn't the spies shoot you?"

Gama pulled an amulet from inside the collar of his military uniform and said, "I haven't worn a gau since I joined the army, but I dreamed of wolves before we set out today, so I put it on." Physician Gama's head had struck a rock earlier, and the small-caliber bullet from the silent pistol had struck the gau precisely. The gau shattered. Although the bullet didn't enter his body, the impact knocked him unconscious temporarily.

The gau is a Tibetan protective amulet; male and female versions differ, the female ones being large and round, made of silver on the outside, enclosing statues of Buddhas, sutras, Vajra knots, and other objects meant to ward off evil. Some contained relics. Gama’s gau held a Nine-Eyed Dzi bead, agate, and a wolf's tooth left over from hundreds of years ago—legend said it was a Tooth of the Wolf King, reserved for a high lama. The two old wolves must have smelled the aura of their former king, causing them to hesitate before attacking immediately.

I loaded the semi-automatic rifle and then headed with Physician Gama to find Lama and the other man waiting by the water pool. There had been no sound from that direction; I didn't know if they were still safe. Along the surrounding ridges, countless green wolf eyes dotted the landscape; it was impossible to count how many of the remaining hungry wolves had followed the Wolf King here. But with the moon overhead, these wolves could only run a few paces before pausing to howl mournfully at the sky, each long howl building a certain frenzy within them.

Seeing wolves covering the surroundings, I had to quicken my pace. After a few steps, Gama suddenly said she thought she might have a concussion, as her vision kept momentarily blacking out. Just as I was about to turn back to support her, I suddenly spotted the white-furred giant wolf crouching quietly about thirty meters behind us, staring fiercely with its single eye under the frosty bright moon. The clear moonlight and the biting cold wind made its entire white coat look like a silver prayer flag fluttering in the breeze. I quickly raised my rifle and pulled the bolt, but when I looked up again, it had vanished without a trace in the moonlight.