We peered down from the ice sheet. It seemed this cirque was no accident of nature. The bodies frozen within the ice were all posed in a strange, ritualistic stance: heads bowed, looking down toward the lower slope. Fatty chuckled, cursing under his breath, “Even on the verge of death, they don’t forget to look down to pick up a wallet.”

I waved them off. “Stop the commentary. We need to get down there and pull Han Shuna up quickly. No matter what, this ice pit radiates a heavy, sinister energy; it’s certainly no safe haven.”

So, everyone quickly lowered the ropes. I grabbed the ice axe, clipped onto the climbing rope, and slid into the ice pit. Inley Yang followed close behind. The two of us ignored the private figures sealed in the ice walls around us, rushing instead to check on Han Shuna’s injuries. There were no obvious external wounds, just a few shallow scrapes on her face from the hard ice. She was simply unconscious.

I took out niter and rubbed it under her nose. Han Shuna immediately sneezed and woke up. I asked if she was hurt. She shook her head, explaining that her shoe lace had come undone. As she bent down to retie it, she had fallen behind the group. Everyone had been so excited upon finally locating Dragon’s Peak that they hadn't noticed someone lagging behind. When Han Shuna tried to catch up, she strayed from the path, stepped right through a thin layer of ice, and fell into the dark space below. She turned on her flashlight to illuminate the area, ready to signal for help, but before she could make a sound, she realized she was surrounded by ancient frozen corpses. Although she often dealt with old remains, being caught completely off guard in this unique environment shocked her into fainting.

Seeing that Han Shuna was unharmed, I relaxed. I shone my tactical flashlight around at the bodies embedded in the ice layer. Unlike the bronze figures we had seen in the Celestial Palace of the Xian Tomb, these corpses looked as if they had been frozen into the ice wall while still alive. They were strikingly lifelike, packed tightly layer upon layer. It was hard to estimate the exact number frozen inside, but we could see at least ten. Despite all of them wearing ancient robes and crowns, the attire was not from the Demon Kingdom.

Inley Yang attached a quickdraw to Han Shuna, preparing for Uncle Ming and Fatty to pull her up from above. As the two of them bent down, they both cried out suddenly and leaped backward, as if they had spotted a venomous snake on the ground.

I quickly looked down, shining my flashlight across the smooth, flat ice surface beneath us. Inside, there was a hazy, black silhouette, a human figure curled up, compacted into a ball, lying horizontally frozen into the ice layer underneath. At a glance, one might mistake it for a colossal, frozen shrimp.

I said to Inley Yang, “What’s so scary about that? It’s just a dead person frozen solid. But why is it posed so strangely?”

Inley Yang shrugged. “I didn't see clearly what it was below; Sister Han just startled me.”

Han Shuna explained, “When I first saw the figure curled up down there, it reminded me of a fetus. But then I suddenly realized how could a fetus be that big, so I leaped back in fright.”

I told Han Shuna to go up first. Her expertise was in ancient corpse identification, and she wouldn’t be much help here—only a hindrance. After she was safely above, Inley Yang and I conferred in the ice pit. This location might be the tomb of the leader of the Samsara Sect. This glacier, where the demonic pagoda was buried, must have been a holy site in the eyes of the later Samsara Sect believers. Their successive sect leaders and followers were probably buried here after death. This ice pit was one such location. The black shadow curled up below was likely one of those sect leaders, and the surrounding people were the devoted followers buried as accompaniment. Beneath the glacier circled the Nine-Story Demon Tower, and who knew how many more ice cellars like this existed. Perhaps we should excavate the body of this sect leader from beneath the ice to see if his grave goods hold any clues.

Once the discussion was settled, we climbed out of the ice cellar and back to the surface, relaying our plan to the others. Our current position was essentially the convergence point of the glaciers from four snow peaks, forming a vast, thick, and deep “ice tongue.” The terrain here was uneven, crisscrossed with ice gullies and crevasses. When the Esoteric Buddhists built the Demon Tower, they hadn't yet developed formalized Feng Shui theory; the era was too ancient for methods like fen jin ding xue (locating graves by celestial alignment). Rather than searching the ice tongue aimlessly like finding a needle in a haystack, it was better to start by digging out the tomb of the Samsara Sect leader to pinpoint the exact location of the Demon Tower.

Uncle Ming and the others had no experience in this, so they naturally accepted whatever I said. Once arrangements were made, we stuck a prayer flag beside the ice pit as a marker and set up tents on the spot. Peter Huang and the guide Chuyi were assigned guard duty to prevent wolf attacks, while Uncle Ming and Han Shuna handled the expedition's provisions. After eating, I took Ah Xiang, Inley Yang, and Pengzi down into the ice pit to begin work.

The sky was darkening. Faint howls of wild wolves drifted from the distant deep forest. It seemed the wolf king had gathered its pack and was trailing us. Hearing the howls, I remembered the greenish entrails of military doctor Gama, and I gnashed my teeth in hatred. I urged Chuyi and the others to be vigilant before moving the equipment down into the ice cellar.

Uncle Ming hung a fluorescent lamp above to provide illumination. As an old hand at dealing with ancient corpses, seeing a body posed so strangely beneath the ice piqued his curiosity. He thought perhaps we might dig up a priceless glacial crystal corpse, so he and Han Shuna watched from above.

Having Ah Xiang with me was far more convenient than lighting candles, but she was timid. To prevent her from freezing up in terror and losing the ability to speak, we followed the old rule: we lit a tallow candle at the sheng men (Gate of Life) in the southeast corner.

Fatty filled a pressurized spray can with ginger juice, as I instructed, and sprayed the ice layer on the ground a few times. All that remained was to wait patiently for it to permeate.

The bodies frozen in the surrounding ice walls all bowed their heads, gazing at the ice surface we were about to break open. It was like a crowd of onlookers surrounding us, staring silently with cold eyes. This was deeply unsettling. Fatty complained, “This is so damn awkward. Maybe we should find a cloth to cover the entire ice wall? It’s seriously creeping me out.”

I told Fatty, “You aren’t a young woman, afraid of being watched. Just pretend those corpses aren't there…” Even so, I felt this ice pit was profoundly sinister. I had never seen burial arrangements like this, and the tomb owner had no coffin, just lying below like a giant shrimp. What exactly we would unearth was truly uncertain.

Inley Yang seemed to sense my hesitation and said to me, “The Samsara Sect retained many of the dark traditions of the Demon Kingdom. In the Epic of the Hero King, the Demon Kingdom was a nation that worshipped the abyss and caves. The surrounding funerary figures, posed looking down into the abyss, likely relate to their religious beliefs. There’s no need to be alarmed.”

By then, the ginger juice had almost fully penetrated. We began to use the ice chisels and wind drills to excavate. Ginger juice is the nemesis of hard ice; even ten-thousand-year mystic ice yields to it. This ice layer wasn't very thick. Before long, we chipped away a square ice cap. Below that, there was no more ice. We discovered fish bladders adhered to the bottom, and the body was wrapped within them.

Upon seeing the body, everyone was shocked. Ah Xiang trembled violently all over, and Inley Yang had to hold her close, asking if she had seen anything specific. Ah Xiang shook her head, simply saying the corpse was too terrifying.

I glanced back at the candle; it was burning normally, so there seemed to be no immediate issue. Only then did I calmly observe the corpse revealed beneath the ice. Before breaking the ice, we had only seen a black silhouette, but now the body appeared enormous and entirely white. This wasn't the long white hair of a reanimated corpse; it looked as if the entire body was encased in a thick, hard cocoon. In a few spots where the white cocoon had flaked off, a brilliant golden light shone through. It appeared the interior was made entirely of gold.

The corpse was seated with its knees drawn up to its chest, curled into a ball. This might also be connected to the evil doctrines of the Samsara Sect: that after death, one undergoes reincarnation, so the deceased was positioned like a fetus returning to the womb.

Uncle Ming, watching from above, saw clearly. “Wow, this is a Snow Mountain Mummy! Unbelievable, this Golden Snow Mountain Mummy is worth over a million… It’s just that the age is too recent; if it were older, it would be almost as valuable as a glacial crystal corpse.”

I looked up at Uncle Ming. “What Snow Mountain Mummy?” Regarding these ‘antiques,’ neither my partner nor I knew as much as Uncle Ming and his mistress.

Uncle Ming descended into the ice cellar for a closer look. Fortunately, the ice pit was spacious enough that one more person didn't make the space feel overly cramped. Uncle Ming examined the body with a magnifying glass for a long time, then reached out to touch the white cocoon shell, licking his finger afterward. “Not bad. Definitely a Golden Snow Mountain Mummy.”

The processing method for this type of corpse was extremely complex. First, the deceased had to be placed in a specific posture inside a stone sarcophagus, which was then filled with salt. It would remain there for about three months, allowing the brine to fully penetrate every part of the body, replacing all moisture. Once properly pickled, a layer of cement-like substance was applied. This substance was compounded from sandalwood powder, spices, earth, and various medicinal ingredients.

Then this substance gradually solidified and hardened. All concave or shrunken parts of the body—such as the eyes, cheeks, and stomach—would naturally expand, forming harmonious proportions. Finally, an outer layer of molten gold lacquer was applied, forming the ‘golden body.’ Lastly, it was wrapped in another layer of rock salt. Only sect leaders or patriarchs of certain religions were entitled to such treatment.

Fatty and I were stunned into silence, never imagining that a zongzi (mummy) could have such a complicated creation process. Uncle Ming suggested we move the Snow Mountain Mummy up, but as soon as we tried, we found it immovable. The body was still fused to the ice layer beneath it, solid as rock. I shone the flashlight deeper into the recess. There seemed to be many objects under the ice, but they were unclear through the layer.

So, we took out the spray can again, dousing the ice layer with ginger juice. After waiting a while, estimating it was saturated enough, I struck the ice with an ice pick. Unexpectedly, a long, immense blue flame burst forth through the hole made by the pick, accompanied by a shriek sharp enough to pierce the eardrums, shooting straight up from the deepest part of the ice pit into the sky.