I exchanged a look with irley Yang, both of us searching the other's face for an answer, but like me, she could hardly imagine what truth lay hidden behind that ancient legend. Mass suicides of wild animals occur all over the world, more often among marine life, but it is almost unheard of for different species to mix and commit mass suicide together. And in this Tibetan region that worships high mountains and great lakes, how could they name this mountainous area with an inauspicious phrase like the "Sea of Disaster"? These things are truly incredible.

The guide, Chu Yi, explained that the legend of the Bone Gully had been passed down by the elders for generations. Whenever the crescent moon resembled an eyebrow, the wild beasts in the mountains would gaze at the moon and jump to their deaths from high places, their demise intended to appease the wrath of the spirits. Another legend held that any animal that jumped into the deep gully and died could escape the path of beasts and be reborn as a human.

But no one alive today has ever seen a wild beast leap from the cliff there, so no one knows if those ancient legends are true. However, in the Bone Gully, many animal remains can still be seen, and at night, ghost fires flicker. Furthermore, the terrain is complex, connected to the ancient glacier of Shenluo Gully. If you are looking for a place surrounded by four snow-capped mountains, it is in the Shenluo Gully Glacier. It will take more than five days to reach that location.

The terrain of Shenluo Gully is rarely matched in complexity. The northern Tibetan Plateau is vast, sparsely populated, and has a harsh living environment; the area near Kalamail is almost entirely uninhabited, with most regions untouched by human presence. Chu Yi himself had only entered Shenluo Gully to gather herbs at most; he had never ventured further in. Kalamail has plenty of snow mountains and ancient glaciers, but the only glacier encircled by four snow peaks is the Shenluo Gully Glacier. All Chu Yi could do was guide us to that place.

The expedition rested at the pass for over half an hour. It was almost time to move on; those suffering from exhaustion and difficulty breathing rode on horseback. Guide Chu Yi reloaded his rifle and Tibetan knife, then took out a wineskin filled with highland barley liquor, taking several long gulps. Afterward, he cracked his whip three times in the air as an offering to the mountain god, then said to the group, "To enter the Bone Gully, we must first cross Gaqing Slope. Let’s go." With that, holding a prayer wheel in one hand and his whip in the other, he led the way into the mountains.

The rest of the party followed him, winding through the great mountains until they reached Gaqing Slope (also known as Gaqing Gao). Although the place name included "Slope," compared to the towering mountains, it was hardly any less imposing. The altitude here was so high that clouds shrouded everything. Chu Yi and the other Khampa men didn't feel it much, but Uncle Ming was starting to struggle. In the past, people from the interior who came to the plateau and couldn't adapt to the altitude would die if they stayed longer than sixty days. This was because the air pressure would cause the heart to gradually enlarge, and over time, this exceeded the body's capacity. Later, medical measures could alleviate this condition, but it remained highly dangerous.

I always found it strange: someone like Uncle Ming, who already had more than enough money, why would he risk throwing his old bones into these Kunlun Mountains, risking his life to find that Glacial Crystal Corpse? Only later did I learn from Han Shuna that Uncle Ming's current fortune was reduced to only the house in Beijing and those few antiques. His entire family inheritance had been gambled away by his two sons in Hong Kong, and they were also heavily in debt. Uncle Ming wanted to make one last big gamble while his legs could still carry him, otherwise, after he passed away, his two sons and goddaughter would be left with nothing. Knowing all this, I felt a touch of sympathy for Uncle Ming.

Worried that Uncle Ming and A Xiang might meet with an accident if we ascended further, I hurried ahead to Chu Yi and asked him how much farther it was to the Bone Gully.

Chu Yi suddenly stopped and beckoned me over, pointing diagonally downward to signal me to look there. I followed his gaze, and the surrounding mist was being swept away by the mountain wind, revealing a deep gully splitting the ground. Looking down into the chasm from this height, I could only see a vast, murky expanse, its depths impossible to fathom. Forget jumping down; just a single glance sent a chill of dread through me. If the mist on the mountaintop had been thicker, anyone unfamiliar with the terrain would surely have walked straight ahead, tumbling into the deep gully to be smashed to pieces.

This was the "Bone Gully" below. The spot where we stood was said to be the place where countless wild beasts jumped to their deaths, known locally as the "Beast-Slaughtering Terrace."

Chu Yi handed me the wineskin of highland barley liquor, urging me to take a few sips to ward off the biting mountain wind, and said to me, "From now on, I’ll call you Doji, alright? Doji means 'Vajra Brave' in Tibetan. Only a true warrior dares to gaze down into the Bone Gully from the Beast-Slaughtering Terrace. Brother Doji, you are magnificent."

I took two swigs of the wine and grinned at Chu Yi, thinking to myself that he had no idea how shaky my legs actually felt after just those few glances. If we took a detour down now, we could still get out of the Bone Gully before dark. Just as we were about to urge the yaks forward, the mountain wind picked up again, and a thicker bank of clouds above slowly drifted away, revealing a majestic snow peak rising thousands of feet into the sky. This silver peak, seeming to hang in the heavens, felt almost within reach. No wonder the locals said, "When you reach Gaqing Gao, you can reach out and grab the sky." The snow mountain, set against the sunlight and white clouds, was intensely captivating to the eyes and soul. Chu Yi and the five porters were used to it, but we inlanders, who rarely saw snow-capped mountains, stared until our eyes blurred, lingering for quite a while. Only when other clouds drifted over and obscured the peak did we finally depart, turning back with every step.

At the entrance to the Bone Gully, I checked the time. Due to misjudging our pace, it was too late to cross this deep gully before dark. It looked like we would have to camp outside the gully and set off at first light the next day.

However, the entrance altitude was already above 4,500 meters. Some of the weaker members had developed severe altitude sickness while crossing Gaqing Slope, and the medicine hadn't helped. We needed to find a place at a lower altitude for them to rest for the night, which meant we had to enter the Bone Gully.

Guide Chu Yi said that stories about ghosts and animal suicides were old legends, and frankly, I didn't believe them either. But it would still be dangerous to go in at night. Although we wouldn't face the threat of avalanches there, if a loose section on either side of the cliff face shifted, even a small falling piece could crush anyone beneath it, even if they were wearing a helmet—that was the first danger. The second was that thousands of wild animals had died inside, and will-o'-the-wisps often appeared, easily startling the yaks and horses. Yaks, though usually looking dull and honest, can go mad; if one did, in a narrow place like the Bone Gully, we could all be trampled to death.

I looked at Uncle Ming's family of three slumped over their horses and felt conflicted. Finally, irley Yang came up with a solution: put the yaks in front, and the rest of us behind. From here downward, there were many dead trees in the Bone Gully; setting up camp behind them would minimize the danger. After discussing a few more details, we finally decided to enter the gully to camp.

Once we wound into the Bone Gully, where the altitude dropped below 3,000 meters, those struggling to breathe finally found relief. The reason it was called a "gully" and not just a "valley" was because the terrain was extremely narrow, with sheer cliffs on both sides as if cut by a knife. Looking up, one could see only a sliver of sky. The gully floor was strewn with loose rocks and weeds, and sure enough, there were countless skeletal remains—mostly horns from cattle and mountain goats, relics that had remained unrotted for centuries.

It was said that Shenluo Gully, connected to this place, had a completely different environment. That area boasted vast primeval forests and an abundance of rare plant species, and the mountains were particularly rich in medicinal herbs, earning it the nickname "Medicine Mountain."

After traveling about a quarter of the distance, night had fallen, and we still hadn't found a suitable place to set up camp. The yaks, having walked all day, were already getting restless as darkness descended. For safety, we had no choice but to stop near a cluster of dead trees, pitch our tents, and start boiling water.

Since the Bone Gully ran east to west, we could see the moon in the night sky. The cold moon hung like a hook, and because the gully was so deep, the moonlight appeared exceptionally hazy, illuminated only by the fire fueled by dried yak dung.

Everyone gathered around the campfire to eat and drink. The hearty guide, Chu Yi, entertained us with Tibetan folk tales. I hastily finished a few bites of food and left the fire, sitting alone on a nearby tree stump to smoke.

Before I could take two puffs, irley Yang walked over, snatched the cigarette from my hand, and crushed it out: Smoking on the plateau is very harmful to the body. You're forbidden. I have something to discuss with you.

I almost snapped at irley Yang, asking if she was acting like a Fascist seizing things by force, but I immediately dismissed the thought. Ever since entering the Bone Gully, I had felt a strange sensation. irley Yang must have sensed some unusual signs as well, which is why she sought me out. This concerned everyone's safety, so it was best to skip the jokes and get straight to the point.

irley Yang was indeed here for that reason. The large quantity of skeletal remains of wild animals in the gully had caught her attention. These horns, cattle skulls, and bear heads looked as if the most recent among them were at least two or three hundred years old. If the legend were true, why hadn't any wild animals jumped in to commit suicide in recent years?

I considered this and said to irley Yang, "Legends passed down from ancient times might only retain shadows of the truth, not necessarily the exact phenomenon. Even if those events are unbelievable, they do exist in the world. But I think they certainly don't exist here."

The half- of a fragmented book left to me by my grandfather was written by a top Mojin Xiaowei from the late Qing dynasty, and it actually mentioned the structure and layout of the Nine-Story Demon Tower in Tibet. I believe that over the past centuries, Mojin Xiaowei must have raided a Nine-Story Demon Tower. A tomb in the style of this demonic pagoda must have been flanked by two similarly scaled, dragon-shaped sacrificial trenches. Perhaps the Bone Gully we are in is one of them. The remnants of the Demon Kingdom, the Lunhui Zong, might also have performed unknown rituals here.

I kicked a half-rotted tree stump beside me. On it was a very faint carving of a three-eyed human head with a demonic face, left behind at least several hundred years ago, almost weathered away. Since entering the Bone Gully, I had already seen three similar totem markings. This should be good news for us, suggesting we weren't far from the Phoenix Divine Palace.

As irley Yang and I were studying the layout of this sacrificial trench and the possible location of the Demon Tower, we suddenly heard a chorus of shouts from the group around the fire, their voices filled with panic and chaos. I quickly turned my head, and the scene before me was truly unbelievable: in the hazy moonlight, an enormous Tibetan mountain bear was falling through the air from a height of a thousand meters, claws and teeth bared.