Chapter 176 - 173: Unreturning Souls in the Wind and Snow

Chapter 176: Chapter 173: Unreturning Souls in the Wind and Snow

’So intense!’

The White Weasel peeked its head out, stole a glance, and quickly burrowed back into Lin Zhiyin’s arms. At that moment, a chaotic flurry of thoughts filled the air—the excited thoughts of the Gouzi mingling with the desperate thoughts of the fleeing Wolf Pack. Zhao Wendong didn’t have time to sort them out; he just kept pulling the trigger at the gray wolves scattering within his line of sight.

Zhao Wenjun missed his shot at the last fleeing gray wolf, and in a flash, no other wolves were in sight. Zhao Wendong cursed under his breath. ’My aim is crap today. I only grazed the White Wolf’s face and hit just one of the gray ones.’ Just then, he heard Zhao Wenjun call out to him from behind.

"Dongzi, hurry over here!"

Zhao Wendong quickly turned and rushed toward Zhao Wenjun and the others. The first thing he saw was a man lying prone in the snow. His face was plunged into a pool of frozen blood, and the tattered cotton-padded jacket on his body was torn to shreds.

His body was a mangled mess of flesh and blood. His neck had been nearly torn through by a wolf’s bite. Blood had seeped into the snow and frozen into a dark red chunk of ice. The body was already stiff, limbs twisted unnaturally. He still gripped a hunting rifle tightly in his hand, but he was long gone—as dead as one could be.

Zhao Wendong glanced at him for only a moment before hurrying over to Zhao Wenjun’s side. There was another person with them. A thick, metallic stench hung in the air, so potent it couldn’t be dispersed. It mixed with the wind and snow, assaulting the nostrils and making it incredibly difficult to breathe.

The second man was slumped at the base of a thick tree trunk. He must have been fighting the Wolf Pack with his back against the tree, which was likely why he hadn’t been torn apart like his companion. But now, his body was limp. His torn jacket was shredded from collar to chest, and his face, neck, and shoulders were covered in wolf bites and scratches.

Flesh was peeled back all over his body, revealing bone underneath. The skin on half his face had been ripped away, exposing the cheekbone beneath. His right eyeball, cloudy and bulging, held no trace of life. His throat was also partially torn open. His windpipe wasn’t severed, but he could only make a gurgling, wheezing sound, like air leaking from a puncture. His chest rose and fell weakly, and with every breath, bloody foam frothed from his mouth, freezing into tiny ice pellets on his chin.

Zhao Wendong reached out and touched the man’s arm. It was ice-cold and stiff. His pulse was so faint it was barely perceptible, and his pupils were already starting to dilate. His lips were blue. He didn’t even have the strength to open his eyes, merely twitching unconsciously as he made that gurgling sound. It was impossible to tell if he was crying out in pain or for help.

"He’s too badly wounded... There’s no saving him!"

Zhao Wenjun sighed and said slowly. No one else spoke. Two lives had just been extinguished before their very eyes, and a heavy mood fell over everyone.

In the deep winter mountains, with temperatures thirty degrees below zero, a man wounded this badly had no chance. Even if they could get him back to the cave, without medicine or a doctor, survival was impossible. His flesh was frozen and his blood vessels ruptured, on top of the fatal bites. Besides, the man was just hanging on by a thread; he could breathe his last at any moment.

Among the group, only Zhao Ergou wasn’t looking at the scene. He held his gun, vigilantly scanning the surroundings. One moment he’d check the distance for any returning wolves, the next he’d glance at the three Gouzi, watching for any signs of trouble from their direction.

The man seemed to sense someone approaching. He used his last ounce of strength to flutter his eyelids, his clouded eyes barely managing to open a crack. He looked at Zhao Wendong, gurgling up bloody foam. His fingers moved with great difficulty, but he didn’t even have the strength to clench them. With all his remaining energy, he squeezed out two words.

"Song... Song Family!"

Then his head lolled to the side, his last breath escaped, and his body went completely limp, becoming still.

The wind continued to howl. Flurries of snow fell upon the two corpses, upon their mutilated bodies, slowly covering the gruesome wounds. General and the others dragged back the dead wolf and dropped it nearby. Sensing their masters’ sorrow, they gathered around and sat, whining softly, not seeking praise as they usually did.

The little White Fox stood on a distant snowy slope, watching the scene. Its tail drooped, and its dark eyes had lost their usual liveliness, filled only with the instinctive reverence that all forest creatures have for death.

Zhao Wendong slowly reached out and closed the dead man’s eyes. He then stared silently at the two corpses in the snow, mauled by wolves beyond recognition. His Adam’s apple bobbed, but no words came out.

’My past life suddenly came to mind,’ he thought. ’My older brother and sister-in-law had gone into the mountains to find food and had met the same fate. Could it have been this same Wolf Pack? Back then, even as they were dying, my brother and sister-in-law must have been thinking about going home, thinking about me and the children.’

Zhao Wendong didn’t move, and neither did anyone else. The atmosphere grew heavier and heavier. Suddenly, two hands reached around from behind him and wrapped around his waist. It was Lin Zhiyin. The White Weasel in her arms got squished, but thankfully Lin Zhiyin wasn’t hugging him too tightly. It stretched its body and shifted into an upright posture, managing to hold on.

"Zhao Wendong, the dead are gone. The living must be strong. We’re all waiting for you!"

Zhao Wendong’s body jolted at her words, and he snapped back to reality. He realized he had lost his composure. ’These two aren’t my brother and sister-in-law, just two ill-fated souls. The scene is a bit bloody, but it’s not like I haven’t seen worse. Besides, people dying in the mountains isn’t exactly a rare occurrence.’ he thought.

"I’m fine," Zhao Wendong said. "Flesh to the wind, bones to the snow—that’s the fate of a mountain Hunter. What did he say at the end?"

Zhao Wenjun thought for a moment, then said with uncertainty.

"I think it was... ’Send... home’?"

The man’s breath had been faint, and with his throat torn open, it was incredibly difficult to hear him clearly. Zhao Wenwu scratched his head.