Chapter Sixty-Two: Encountering Danger

On the following day, the weather indeed cleared up. The sun rose from the east, soaring over the layered, snow-capped peaks of the Karakoram Mountains, casting its light upon the vast glaciers at the mountain pass below, reflecting waves of golden brilliance.

“Keep your eyes shut, everyone. Walk in a line and do not look at the ice, especially not for too long.”

The long convoy of sleds was ready. Liu Ji stood at the head of the line, inspecting each person’s gear. Whenever he noticed a curious soul with eyes wide open, he would personally wrap their head and face with a piece of coarse cloth.

Marching in the snow, aside from the cold, snow blindness could be deadly. With no sunglasses available, he resorted to the most primitive method: using rough burlap as makeshift eye coverings, allowing just enough vision through the gaps to discern direction.

The Hispar Pass was a mountain ridge covered in ice, the elevation rising from about two thousand meters to over four thousand. Though the slope was not excessively steep, the icy, slippery path and the weight of the sleds meant a single misstep could send someone sliding down with consequences no better than those that befell the snow wolves.

Just as at the outset, Liu Ji leaned on a long spear for support, an ice axe in his other hand, leading the way. A rope over his shoulder was attached to a sled piled with furs, beneath which lay a wounded man unable to walk.

Their group, originally fifty strong at departure, had dwindled to thirty-two, and the number of sleds to sixteen. Each sled was still hauled by two men. To lighten their load, they had discarded everything but the essentials—iron pots for cooking, and the like, were left behind.

Clang!

Liu Ji drove the ice axe into the surface, the sharp tip embedding itself deeply. The steel teeth at the back amplified his grip, and using this leverage, he advanced, the patterned wooden soles of his boots pressing shallow holes into the snow. The sled scratched two lines across the ice as he slowly dragged it along.

The flag bearer behind him had set aside his banner for now, both hands pushing the back of the sled to ease Liu Ji’s burden. The two of them were roped together, the cord extending to the soldiers behind.

“Watch your steps—don’t stray from the path. Go slow, one at a time. If anyone can’t keep up, don’t force it—just shout.”

These instructions were relayed down the line, and when they reached Zhang Wujia’s ears, he instinctively glanced back—there was no one behind him.

This time, he didn’t let pride get the better of him. As the rearguard, he walked at the very end, helping push the sled while the soldier before him pulled. The icy grooves beneath his feet had been flattened by more than thirty men ahead, requiring him to dig in with his own strength to avoid slipping.

The higher they climbed, the fewer footholds there were. At this point, the steel ice axes became indispensable. As Liu Ji had demanded, the axes had to be able to bear a man’s full weight without failing. For their era, it was the pinnacle of metallurgy, barely passing muster after rigorous testing. How long they would last, however, only heaven knew.

Even steel has its limits.

The treacherous rise from low to high altitude, with a vertical gain of over a thousand meters, could easily bring on symptoms like chest tightness and labored breathing in the unaccustomed. Liu Ji’s highland forest training was not just for endurance, but also to prepare for such reactions.

A strange cry echoed in the sky. Without looking up, Liu Ji recognized the call of the mountain vulture, known as the Indian vulture, which fed on small to medium animals and carrion. The wolves’ carcasses must have drawn their attention. He had no time to speculate on what threat these high-altitude scavengers might pose; suddenly, the rope around his waist tightened.

A sharp snap rang out. Somewhere in the middle of the group, a rope had broken. A soldier pushing a sled at the rear, caught off guard, slipped and fell. His ice axe went flying from his hands. The comrade in front, who was pulling the sled, was knocked off balance by the impact. The sled behind them toppled onto another man’s shoulder, setting off a chain reaction.

“Abandon the sled! Let it go!” Both Zhang Wujia and Liu Ji shouted at once. The two sleds were the immediate danger—if released, they could still save the men.

The soldier with the broken rope was the first to recover, quickly unfastening the harness at his shoulder and trying to swing the sled away from those below. But his angle was too slight; as the sled fell, it still struck the man who had first lost his footing, throwing the lower half of the group into chaos.

A fully loaded sled, along with a man’s body, slid down the inclined ice like a boulder. Sensing disaster, the fallen soldier flung himself to the side, knocking the sled away but separating himself from the group. He tumbled down the slope, trailing the broken rope.

The danger was not over yet. His fall yanked hard on the comrade behind him, threatening to pull the whole team down the slope.

In this moment of crisis, the veteran’s battlefield instinct shone through. He drew his saber with a reverse grip and, without hesitation, severed the rope. Suddenly free, his body dropped like a stone.

“Catch him!”

At the very end of the line, Zhang Wujia shouted desperately. But everyone was already overloaded; to reach out recklessly would risk repeating the disaster. Seeing this, he made a snap decision and unfastened the rope at his waist.

“Hold on to the sled. If you can’t, let go.”

With that, he released the sled, pulled the two ice axes from his belt—his own and Old Wu’s—and focused on the falling figure. Taking a deep breath, he braced his legs. The wooden soles of his tall leather boots bit into the ice, turning a shallow groove into a deep pit, his entire foot sinking in.

At that moment, the soldier slid close. Zhang Wujia let out a loud cry, swinging his right arm. The steel blade of the ice axe struck the man's fur coat, piercing both hide and ice, arresting the fall.

At the same time, the ice axe in his left hand slammed into the ice overhead. With the combined force of hands and feet, he finally managed to stabilize both men, though neither could move a muscle.

“Grab my hand—take the axe.”

The old soldier did as told, taking the ice axe in one hand and gripping Zhang Wujia's palm with the other. Zhang hauled him up, inch by inch, until the man’s feet found a foothold in the ice pit beneath, allowing him to stand by his own strength.

For a moment, both their backs were drenched in sweat.

Bang!

A loud crash echoed from the foot of the mountain. The sled that had tumbled earlier finally hit the ground, shattering to pieces.