Chapter Seventy-One: The Land of Death

Sun Licheng thought for a moment and then said, “I choose the southern valley.” It was the old adage: the greater the risk, the greater the reward. Sun Licheng believed that Adolf wouldn’t set him up to fail so easily at this point, so he decided to take a gamble. If he chose the northern valley, what difference would there be from the forward camp? In the end, he would still have to head south.

Upon hearing Sun Licheng’s decision, Adolf’s face blossomed into a wide smile. He slapped Sun Licheng on the shoulder. “Good! That’s the kind of resolve I like to see in young people. As long as you can restore that mercury mine, the tribe’s future will be limitless. I know I haven’t misjudged you.”

After chatting a little longer, Adolf had Martin lead Sun Licheng away to select his slaves.

When Sun Licheng saw the slaves prepared for him by the Star Moon Tribe, he was somewhat surprised. Among the dozen goblins, there was also a gnome—a rather unusual occurrence.

Martin laughed. “There’s nothing strange about it. This fellow committed a crime, killed someone, and after being caught, the tribe showed mercy and spared his life, making him a slave instead. He’s sturdy enough, so I assigned him to you.”

A chill ran through Sun Licheng’s heart. He couldn’t quite figure out Martin’s so-called goodwill, but he kept a smile plastered on his face and thanked him profusely.

“It seems I’ll have to be careful. Whether it’s the gnome or these goblins, I need to stay on my guard. Who knows which one of them is their planted spy?” Sun Licheng reminded himself silently while maintaining a friendly demeanor.

After selecting the slaves, Sun Licheng traded two pieces of bronze he carried for some supplies from the Star Moon Tribe. Martin generously added some more in the name of the tribe. Thus, each slave left with a rattan basket on their back, filled to the brim.

With preparations complete, Sun Licheng bade farewell to the Star Moon Tribe and set off with his group, following the guide.

After seeing Sun Licheng off, Martin returned to his father, who was still examining the pieces of bronze Sun Licheng had traded.

“Father, Sun Licheng and his party have departed,” Martin reported.

“Good. How did Sun Licheng behave? Did he show any dissatisfaction about receiving a gnome as a slave?” Adolf set down the bronze and asked in a low voice.

Martin shook his head. “I didn’t notice anything. He seemed perfectly natural. But as you instructed, I didn’t sabotage anything; I simply told the guide to keep an eye on them for a while after delivering Sun Licheng to his destination.”

Adolf leaned back in his bearskin chair and shifted for comfort, then smiled. “He’s a deep one—doesn’t seem like a young man at all. I don’t believe he doesn’t harbor suspicions. But I have no intention of sabotaging him now. Not only would it be too obvious, it’s unnecessary.”

Seeing Martin hand him a bowl of water, Adolf took a sip and continued, “If Sun Licheng succeeds, we gain another source of mercury. If he fails or dies, it’s no loss to us. Should he manage to establish a settlement there, we’ll have plenty of opportunities to send our people in later. For now, I sincerely hope he succeeds. The more mercury we have, the happier the High Shaman will be.”

Martin suddenly understood.

“But Father, there’s still something I don’t get. Why did you give Sun Licheng so much? It doesn’t seem necessary to me.”

Adolf smiled. “If I’d told him outright to go to the southern valley, he might have hesitated or tried to refuse. So I gave him a choice. When someone faces a choice between one piece of meat and two, it’s hard to decide. But when it’s one piece against ten, the choice is almost instinctive. By sweetening the deal for the southern valley, I made him choose it himself. A dozen slaves and some food—no great cost. Not only does he head south willingly, but if he manages to settle there, he’ll owe us a significant debt.”

Martin nodded in agreement.

...

The guide was not a talkative man, and Sun Licheng’s mind was occupied with thoughts of the southern valley, so the journey passed in silence.

The road was rough, and Sun Licheng had to dismount from the Wolf King and walk with the others. The slaves, clad in coarse animal hides and burdened with heavy baskets, followed closely behind the guide. In such a perilous place, Sun Licheng wasn’t worried about their escape; unarmed slaves wandering alone in the forest would be easy prey for beasts and doomed to die. Here, though the rations were meager and the work heavy, at least their lives weren’t immediately at risk.

“Chieftain Sun Licheng, just over that ridge ahead lies our destination,” the guide said, pointing to a low hill after two days on the road.

Sun Licheng nodded, waved his hand, and called out to the group, “Move forward!” At the same time, he secretly ordered Dogmeat to return to the forward camp and summon Mr. Skillful and the others.

After another two or three hours, a vast canyon mouth appeared before them.

Even before entering the valley, Sun Licheng felt a cold wind rush at him, making him shiver involuntarily. Glancing at the slaves, he saw that their faces were also pale and uneasy.

“This wind is rather peculiar,” he thought to himself.

At that moment, the Wolf King seemed to sense danger, baring its teeth and bracing for attack as it stared into the canyon.

“What’s going on?” Sun Licheng turned to ask the guide.

The guide’s expression changed. “About a year ago, strange things began happening in this valley. Many people died, and the tribe that lived here abandoned the place. Even now, no one dares enter lightly. But Chieftain Sun Licheng, you are a hero—surely you can deal with whatever is inside. This place used to be prosperous; mercury is a valuable resource that every tribe needs.”

Upon hearing this, Sun Licheng’s heart sank. But there was no turning back now—he had made his choice, and he would see it through.

Even outside the valley, the gusts of wind were chilling. Inside, Sun Licheng found the atmosphere even more sinister—everywhere, signs of death and decay.

On either side of the canyon, not a blade of grass grew; the once-mighty trees now stood as withered husks, groaning in the wind like children crying, sending chills down the spine.

Above, the sky was shrouded with gray clouds. In the afternoon, the sun begrudged them even a little warmth—its few rays fell into the valley like flickering ghost lights.

Suddenly, there was a sharp crack. Sun Licheng realized he had stepped on something and looked down to see a pale, broken arm bone. He felt a wave of unease, and just then, a slave up ahead screamed, falling backwards. In front of him lay the corpse of a gnome, its body gnawed by wild animals—a grisly sight.

“Chieftain, some say this place is cursed—a land of death,” the guide whispered in Sun Licheng’s ear as he frowned at the corpse.

“Ah! Ever since I arrived in this world, why have I never encountered anything good?” Sun Licheng grumbled inwardly.