The two of us kept walking for a while. My granduncle noticed my slightly disappointed expression and ruffled my hair, saying, “It’s alright, this happens all the time. Sometimes, we don’t catch anything for days. Getting a rabbit today is already pretty good!” As he spoke, we arrived at the spot where he had set his third trap. But before I could get a clear look at what was inside, my granduncle suddenly whispered, “Jinbao, stay right here and don’t move. Let me go check first—something about this catch feels strange…” Hearing that made me both scared and curious. So, of course, I ignored his warning and carefully crept toward him. Just as I was about to reach his side, I saw him in a half-crouch, seemingly talking to someone. But since his back was to me, I couldn’t see what was in the trap. As I got closer, he must have heard me. Slowly, he turned his head to look at me, and his expression was… indescribable. “Uncle…?” Just as I called out to him, a fiery red creature suddenly shot out from beneath him. It was unbelievably fast—before I could even get a clear look, it had already disappeared into the woods! Feeling guilty, I asked, “Did I scare away our catch?” My granduncle shook his head. “No, I let it go.” “What? Why?” I asked, confused. He looked at me and chuckled. “Its meat isn’t good—it stinks. But its fur is worth some money. Still, it was such a beautiful animal. Killing it would’ve been a shame.” His words made no sense to me, and I pressed him urgently, “Uncle, just tell me straight—what was that thing?” My granduncle smiled mysteriously and said, “A fire fox.” For the rest of the journey down the mountain, my mind kept replaying the fleeting image of that beautiful creature. At the time, I had no idea that many years later, I would unexpectedly cross paths with it again. Instead of retracing our steps, my granduncle took a different route down the mountain—going down the north slope instead of the south. It would save time. At the base of the north slope, there was a mountain stream. Even though the temperature in the mountains was at least -30°C, the stream never froze over, no matter how cold it got. Every time my granduncle went into the mountains, he would stop by this stream to fill a leather water pouch. He believed that this stream’s water was the purest, and he used it to make medicine for my grandaunt. Today was no exception. As he crouched by the stream to collect water, I suddenly felt a deafening “boom” inside my head. My stomach twisted with nausea, and within moments, cold sweat drenched my back. My granduncle, focused on filling his pouch, didn’t notice anything unusual about me. A wave of dizziness hit me so hard that I had to grab onto a nearby pine tree for support. Taking deep breaths, I closed my eyes and let myself sense everything around me… We were in a rare clearing deep in the mountains. A thick layer of snow covered the ground—hiding something sinister beneath it. Finally… my gaze locked onto a mound of snow, slightly higher than the surrounding area. Taking a deep breath, I slowly walked toward it. My granduncle finished filling his pouch and turned around, only to see me walking away in the opposite direction. Tying the pouch shut, he called out, “Jinbao! Where are you going?” But I didn’t respond. I kept walking, my steps unsteady, as if I hadn’t heard him at all. That’s when he realized something was wrong. He hurried after me, but running in snowshoes wasn’t easy. By the time he caught up, I was already standing still—right beside the snow mound. Panting, he asked, “Jinbao, why didn’t you answer me?” I turned to look at him and, instead of responding to his question, said something completely unexpected. “There’s a woman buried under here.” My granduncle’s expression changed instantly. He knew about my abilities, but even so, witnessing them firsthand left him deeply shaken. After a moment, he asked in a low voice, “What kind of woman?” Closing my eyes, I reached out with my senses, feeling the presence beneath the snow. Slowly, I described her. “She’s wearing a pale yellow top, around thirty years old. On her wrist, she has a yellow bracelet… It doesn’t look like gold—more like copper.” My granduncle’s face darkened. “Does it look like the color of a five-mao coin?” I nodded. Then, I placed my hand on the snow. Instantly, the woman’s final memories surged into my mind, playing like a film reel… I saw the moment she died. A man had bashed her head with a rock. His leg was injured—he walked with a limp—but his strength was terrifying. She had tried to fight back, but it was useless. When I mentioned the man’s limp, my granduncle’s eyes widened, and he blurted out a name. “Luo the Cripple…” “Who’s Luo the Cripple?” I asked, confused. Instead of answering, my granduncle walked to a nearby pine tree, broke off a few thick branches, and stuck them into the snow mound. Then, he turned to me and said, “Come on. Let’s go home first.” On the way back, my granduncle told me about something that had happened in the village last year. Luo the Cripple was a beekeeper. Every spring and summer, he would come from out of town to raise bees in the mountains. When autumn arrived, he would pack up his hives and move south to a warmer place. He did this every year. Because of his childhood polio, he had trouble walking. Everyone called him “Luo the Cripple.” Due to his disability, he had never been able to marry. But last year, something unexpected happened—Luo suddenly returned with a wife, a woman in her thirties. She was quite pretty, which made the village bachelors green with envy. One of them, a man named Wu Laosan, was a jeweler who specialized in crafting ornaments. That year, a trend had swept through the village—many women wanted bracelets made from brand-new five-mao coins. Since real gold was too expensive, they settled for copper ones. Wu Laosan secretly made them, but only for locals—never for outsiders. One day, people noticed that Luo the Cripple’s wife was wearing a bright copper bracelet. The gossip started immediately. “Wu Laosan must’ve made an exception because she’s so pretty!” The rumors spread like wildfire, eventually reaching Luo’s ears. Enraged, he beat his wife mercilessly, demanding the truth. But no matter how many times he asked, she insisted that she had no special relationship with Wu Laosan. Eventually, the gossip died down. And that was the last anyone ever saw of Luo the Cripple’s wife.