Chapter Sixty-Eight - The Hunter in the Mountains (Part One)

Compared to the towering cliffs that rose into the clouds within the canyon, these mountains before me were clearly much easier to traverse. Though still steep, my body, transformed by the spring water I had drunk and strengthened by recent martial practice, carried me quickly. I had no idea how long I had been walking; I only sensed that the undulating mountains around me still stretched on, but gradually, their peaks grew higher in comparison to my own figure.

Soon, I reached a bend in the mountain range. Yet still, there was no path—only thickets and weeds I had to part in order to press forward. The sky was dimming, and after covering another long distance, I estimated it was about three or four in the afternoon. The surrounding mountains seemed to be opening up, a sign that I was nearing the edge of this vast range. Excitement quickened my steps, for leaving the mountains meant there might be a village ahead. After all, this southern region of the nation was densely populated—were it not for the daunting height and steepness of these mountains, there would be no such wilderness.

As I paused by a mountain spring to drink its cool water, a faint rustling came from a nearby thicket. Curiosity drew me closer. In daylight, wild boars rarely appeared, and wolves were even less likely, so I had no fear of encountering a dangerous beast. My stomach had been empty for a long time, and if it was just a wild hare, I could roast it to satiate my hunger. The tantalizing scent in the air only made me hungrier. Crouching low and treading softly, I gathered several stones, ready to knock the creature out as soon as it appeared.

But the animal did not notice me—in fact, my movements grew bolder. I circled around and, peering through the grass, was taken aback. There, in the dim thicket, lay an animal of at least a hundred pounds, its body shuddering incessantly. I nearly cried out in surprise—it was a true southern musk deer!

There’s no need to explain what a musk deer is: its famed musk has long made it a protected animal. Never did I expect that the creature in the thicket would be such a valuable beast—and since musk has a scent, it was clearly a male in the autumn rutting season. Yet what puzzled me was that, for an animal known for its wariness, it showed no sign of noticing my approach.

Confused, I crept through the thick grass, intent on seeing more clearly. Suddenly, the musk deer let out a soft, pained cry and collapsed into the grass. Only then did I notice the blood flowing from its leg, caught in an iron trap. Anger surged within me—I understood instantly. This musk deer, a nationally protected endangered species, had been caught by a poacher’s cruel trap. Whoever set it was a criminal, deserving of prison! I cursed the heartless hunter in my heart—for the sake of money, he had shown such brutality.

Just as I moved to free the deer from the trap, a flurry of barking echoed from afar. I leapt to my feet, only to lock eyes with the terrified musk deer. The raw fear in its gaze struck me deeply. Yes, this too was a living creature—its right to life stripped away merely because humans coveted its treasures, simply because it was worth money.

Ashamed, I averted my eyes, unable to meet the deer's gaze. I stared coldly toward the direction of the barking. Soon, an old man appeared, dressed in military cloth and shouldering a hunting rifle, his eyes fixed on the musk deer in the grass. In an instant, he loaded his weapon and aimed with practiced precision. I knew what he intended—to shoot the deer. Not only was its musk valuable, but so was almost every part of its body. No hunter would let a wild musk deer live; and if caught, he would pay dearly for it.

I saw all too clearly what fate awaited the deer: to be shot, its valuable parts taken, its body left to rot in the earth.

“Don’t shoot!” I shouted, my anger boiling over as I threw myself between the wounded deer and the hunter, shielding it with my body. The old man, startled to see me, stumbled back and fell to the ground.

He climbed to his feet, panic in his expression. “Who… who are you?” he stammered. Of course he was afraid—his actions could send him to prison, and I had stopped him.

“What does it matter who I am?” I snapped. “You know this is a musk deer, and you still want to shoot? That’s illegal—you could end up in prison. Haven’t you heard? The state has long since banned hunting musk deer, and you’re still carrying a gun!”

The old man grew even more nervous, sweat beading on his brow in the sunlight. I cut him off before he could protest. “Right now, this is just an accident. If you let the deer go, I’ll forgive you.”

“No, I can’t let it go!” The old man’s gaze hardened. “I don’t know where you came from, but I know this animal shouldn’t be caught or killed. Still, I must do it!”

I spread my arms to shield the musk deer behind me. “You’re an elder, yet you’d do such a thing? Is money worth going to prison for?”

“You don’t understand! Step aside—I came here for this deer. No matter what, I can’t leave empty-handed!” He raised his gun again and shouted, “Move, boy! I’ll take prison if I must, but I have to bring this musk deer home today!”

“You stubborn old man!” I cursed, my anger mounting. “Just because the deer is valuable, you’re willing to kill it? Don’t you know that every musk deer lost is one step closer to extinction? Is money so important? Do you think you’ll get the chance to spend it from prison?”

The old man trembled all over. I knew, given his age, he was no heartless poacher—just a seasoned hunter from the nearby mountains, too honest to shoot a person. His fear was real; for a simple mountain villager, the word “prison” was terrifying.

“I can’t let it go. Boy, please—this is a matter of life and death…” Tears welled in the old hunter’s eyes as he pleaded, “Please, let me kill the deer…”

His desperate words cooled my anger a little. Calming myself, I asked, “Grandpa, why do you have to kill the deer? Can you tell me? If you’re in trouble, maybe I can help.”

He hesitated, wanting to speak, then sighed. “Boy, you look like someone lost in the mountains. There’s not a soul for hundreds of miles; I’ve spent half my life here and only just know the trails. If you try to leave alone, you’ll never make it. So, how about this: let me kill the deer, and I’ll share some musk with you and lead you out of the mountains. To be honest, in these deep mountains, even if I killed you, no one would find out. Don’t be stubborn—after all, it’s just a beast. Let me kill it.”

“So you’re threatening me?” I sneered. If it was the old me, perhaps I would have given in, but things were different now. Having faced life and death countless times, I no longer feared it. “Listen, old man—I can see you’re a decent person. If you kill me today, your conscience will haunt you for life!”

The old hunter seemed stunned, his head drooping as if lost in thought. But then, a sudden fierceness flashed in his eyes. He raised his rifle and aimed at me, his voice bitter. “Boy, there may be only a handful of musk deer left in these mountains. I’ve tracked this one for a week. If I don’t bring it home by tomorrow, something terrible will happen to my family!”