Chapter Twenty-Three: A Pale Figure Beneath the Tree

Yuan Xiaobai made many vegetable pancakes for the three of us, and this time, our goal for going into the mountains was clear: we wanted to catch a tiger. To be honest, none of us had ever actually seen a tiger; we’d only glimpsed them in New Year paintings. Fatty, however, declared that tigers weren’t anything special.

In Shi Fatty’s eyes, even the greatest martial arts master falls before a kitchen knife. As long as he had a gun in hand, he believed he could defeat anyone. The so-called Western Mountains weren’t a single peak but an expanse, located on the western edge of the Greater Khingan Range. From the village, you could barely make out a few mountain tops, and to locals, that area was a forbidden zone. No one had ever verified the story Miao Lan told, whether it was true or not, but even as we set out that day, things felt unsettled.

Early in the morning, Yuan Xiaobai made us a breakfast of cabbage porridge. She cut her hand while slicing the cabbage, leaving blood everywhere, and Fatty, while urinating, slipped in the courtyard and broke his nose. Yet, these small mishaps didn’t bother us; in those years, minor injuries were barely worth mentioning—after a day’s labor, everyone shed a layer of skin.

We had only one gun and no hunting dog. I rummaged in the warehouse and found a Red Tassel Spear; its tip was rusty but still usable, and it was better than going empty-handed. Chen Wenbin found a coil of steel wire in the tractor shed—thin wires twisted together, the kind used for brake cables. We couldn’t just rely on the gun; we had to set traps as well. There was also an army shovel, the folding kind supposedly left behind by the Japanese years ago. The villagers had used it all these years, and it hadn’t dulled a bit; its quality was unmatched. Each of us carried a machete at our waist—essential for the forest, for clearing the way and for self-defense.

From Wildman Village, walking along the river westward for seven or eight li, we entered the Western Mountains. Here, you could still spot remnants of old fields from previous settlers, and blackened stones showed that people once lived here. Further ahead, we had to cross a dense forest. At its edge, the path vanished—though, it was never really a path, just a route passable by foot.

The river ran swiftly, its bed lined with moss-covered boulders, the depth unpredictable. Fatty tried the water, and it was so cold it made him shiver. Crossing by water was out of the question. We decided to stay on the riverbank, following Fatty’s logic: tigers are animals, animals need water, so if we followed the river, maybe we’d find something.

But reality rarely matches our expectations. After less than two kilometers along the river, we hit a dead end—a waterfall, forty or fifty meters high, appeared before us. Below it, a green pool, its depth impossible to judge, spread out about the size of a basketball court. Beyond this, we couldn’t climb further; the cliff was steep and slick with moss. To get above it and survey the terrain, we’d have to cross a mountain, and by now, it was already midday. We decided to rest here.

It was autumn, and the needles of the larch trees had begun to yellow, carpeting the ground thickly. I lay against the earth, gazing at the distant waterfall, overcome by a drowsy urge to sleep. Slowly, my eyes closed without me realizing.

When I woke again, dusk was falling. I rubbed my eyes and found myself alone.

Chen Wenbin and Shi Fatty were gone!

At first, I thought they’d just wandered nearby and would return soon, but as the owl’s cry echoed through the forest, I was still alone. I called out, searched, but eventually returned to where I started. They had vanished without a trace. The sound of rushing water still filled my ears, and my heart was in turmoil. I’d always considered myself brave, but alone in the deep woods, fear crept in. Worse still, I had no fire; all I had was the Red Tassel Spear and a machete.

There was no reason for them to abandon me. In the pitch-black night, what could I do? I had no better choice but to wait. The forest at night does not belong to humans. All sorts of unfamiliar sounds threatened to overwhelm me.

Before we came, Miao Lan had warned us about wild men, tigers, and bears. Fatty, oh Fatty, didn’t you keep insisting we were revolutionary comrades? How could you leave me behind at such a crucial moment?

In the darkness, I felt as if a pair of eyes were watching me. The more I noticed it, the realer it became. I kept turning my head, trying to catch a glimpse, but those eyes always shifted faster than I could see.

The feeling grew stronger, until I felt an urge to run.

“Run!” The word burst into my mind, but where could I run? It was so dark I couldn’t see my own feet. Yet the oppressive feeling pushed me to make a decision.

Suddenly, it came to me—climb a tree! I remembered hearing that bears can’t climb trees. There was a tall tree behind me, all the trees here were dozens of meters high, straight larches with branches only far above. I unfastened my belt, looped it around the trunk, kicked up, then moved the belt higher, kicking again. Gradually, I left the ground. I’d learned this skill as a child; in the mountain regions of northwest Zhejiang, most people could do it, and I was no exception.

After climbing more than ten meters, I reached a sturdy branch—a triple fork, just right for sitting. I tied my hands to the tree with my belt to keep from falling.

Every minute perched there was agony. I felt those eyes still watching me, waiting below. I reminded myself not to sleep; I had to wait until dawn. I gripped the Red Tassel Spear tightly, imagining that if there really was a wild man, I’d stab it in the heart before it tore me apart.

Around ten o’clock that night, hugging the trunk, I heard a rustling in the woods, snapping me awake. Following the sound, I saw two flickering lights approaching—torches—and someone said, “I wonder how Xiao Yi is doing. I never thought we’d chase this far.”

“He should be fine. With his skinny bones, even if a wild man caught him, they’d find him too tough to chew. Still, it’s not our fault—he slept so soundly, I fired the gun right next to him and he didn’t react.”

I recognized Chen Wenbin and Fatty’s voices, and finally my taut nerves relaxed. Still, the fact that they’d left me alone made me want to get back at them.

I watched them reach the spot where I’d slept during the day. Fatty circled with his torch, saying, “Eh? Where is he?”

Chen Wenbin seemed worried. “I hope nothing happened.”

“No way, that kid’s pretty sharp,” Fatty said, though the tremor in his voice betrayed his anxiety.

“Xiao Yi!” Chen Wenbin shouted, “Xiao Yi, where are you? We’re back, Xiao Yi, do you hear me?”

Of course I heard them! I was right above their heads, but I decided to stay silent—serves them right for abandoning their teammate.

They called several times, but I didn’t answer. Fatty grew anxious, “Looks like something really happened! We’d better head down the mountain and find help. We don’t know this forest, and it’s so big—who knows if he’s run into a tiger or wolf.”

“You go find help, I’ll keep searching here.” Hearing Chen Wenbin say that, I felt an immense affection for him—he was truly reliable, a real comrade. Just as I was about to climb down and respond, I suddenly glimpsed a shadow flicker behind Chen Wenbin. I was certain of it, because he was facing Fatty, and their torches lit the area clearly, but Fatty’s attention stayed on Chen Wenbin.

“Can you manage alone?” Fatty asked, and as he did, I saw the shadow again—it moved swiftly from their side to behind Fatty, and this time I saw it even more clearly.

In the torchlight, I saw the outline of huge arms, and the shadow was slowly moving toward Shi Fatty.

Something was wrong—danger! I forgot all about punishing them; I shouted at the top of my lungs, “Careful! There’s something behind you!”

“Xiao Yi!” Chen Wenbin looked up and called, then he must have seen something too, because he shouted to Fatty, “Duck!”

Shi Fatty, despite his bulk, had incredible reflexes. He didn’t know what was happening, but followed Chen Wenbin’s command instantly. I saw something flash over Fatty’s head like lightning, then graze Chen Wenbin.

Fatty felt a gust of wind sweep over his head. He stood, gun raised, shouting, “What the hell was that?”

I hurriedly slid down the tree, not stopping to explain why I’d climbed it, panting, “That was close! We can’t stay here.”

“You were up in the tree?” Chen Wenbin asked.

“Luckily I was. I happened to see it—otherwise Fatty would’ve been in trouble.”

Fatty, still shaken, asked, “Was it a wild man?”

“I don’t know. I only saw a pale blur fly over your head—about this big.” I gestured; it was roughly the size of a calf, moving so fast I couldn’t see clearly.

Chen Wenbin looked around, “It was white—I saw it too, but I don’t think it was a wild man.”

“What was it?” I asked.

“I think it was a fox, snow white all over.”

Shi Fatty scoffed, “You’re kidding! Where would you find a fox that big? Besides, wild animals are usually afraid of fire—we both had torches. Would a fox dare attack from behind? If I catch it, I’ll skin it myself!”

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