Volume One: At the Foot of Mount Zhongnan Chapter One: Everything Begins at Mount Zhongnan

Zhongnanshan, since ancient times, has been a sacred land of Daoism.

The mountains rise high, with clear waters winding through jagged peaks; strange rocks and mysterious caves abound, emerald pools shimmer beneath cascading waterfalls, and the scenery shifts with endless variety. Ancient trees tower skyward, exotic flowers and rare herbs flourish everywhere, and now and then the cries of wild beasts and birds echo through the woods. After a light rain, the mountain mists swirl and coil, veiling the land in ethereal haze; it truly resembles a realm of immortals, worthy of being hailed as the most blessed grotto heaven under the sky.

Yet amidst this picturesque scene, a jarring sight appeared: a tall young man, covered in blood, raced desperately through the dense forest, a giant mountaineering backpack weighing down his shoulders, his breath ragged and heavy.

He could no longer hear the sounds of pursuit behind him—perhaps he had pulled far enough ahead, or maybe his pursuers had given up and fled down the mountain. For now, at least, he was safe.

The young man’s name was Li Ming. He was thirty years old and had once served as a close-combat instructor in a special forces brigade. He had represented his military district in all-army competitions, and his prospects should have been bright.

Unfortunately, Li Ming was a man of unrestrained spirit, quick-tempered and forthright. As his old commander would say, he carried too much of the roguish air of the martial world—reckless, heedless of consequence, and so stubborn that he’d dare poke a hole in the sky if provoked.

Once, during a joint exercise with a foreign military, Li Ming could not tolerate the deliberate humiliation inflicted upon his own side. His anger flared, and he beat the foreign opponent black and blue, leaving him with fractured bones and a bruised face. The exercise ended in chaos, disgracing his superiors.

After this incident, remaining in the army was impossible. It was only through the considerable influence of his old commander that Li Ming was able to be discharged and return home.

But after leaving behind the life he had known for over a decade, Li Ming found himself ill at ease in civilian society. Job after job ended in failure; offices were rife with intrigue and backstabbing, where flattery mattered more than real ability. Li Ming, accustomed to speaking his mind in the army, could not stomach such hypocrisy, nor could he bear to play the double-faced games of petty men. Luckily, he had no immediate worries about food or shelter, so he simply packed his bag and set off to breathe freely in the scenic beauty of Zhongnanshan.

Who could have imagined that even traveling would bring misfortune? By chance, Li Ming stumbled upon an international poaching ring exploiting ignorant villagers as scapegoats to hunt the nation’s treasured giant pandas.

Though no longer a soldier, Li Ming’s sense of justice remained unshaken; he could not stand idly by and let them succeed.

He immediately tried to call the police, but before they could arrive, the poachers were on the verge of escaping with their prize.

In desperation, Li Ming stepped forward. After a fierce life-and-death struggle, he managed to knock down several poachers and temporarily reclaim the panda, but he was severely wounded, the worst being a gunshot wound to the shoulder.

As blood loss mounted, Li Ming realized he was hopelessly outnumbered, and the enemy was armed. He could only use the terrain to delay them, hoping to buy time for the police to arrive.

He ran for about twenty minutes, his breathing growing heavier, his legs leaden, and his vision dimming with black spots. He knew these were symptoms of severe blood loss.

Even with Li Ming’s formidable physique, he had reached his limit; only sheer willpower kept him going. Now, as he finally found a moment of safety, his strength ebbed away, and the world spun around him—he could not even stand.

By now, dawn was glimmering faintly in the sky, and Li Ming thought he heard distant sirens. Relieved, he knew the poachers were doomed. But as his blood continued to drain, his consciousness faded. In a haze, he saw a figure approaching, but no matter how hard he tried to focus, his vision was filled with swirling sparks.

The newcomer picked up the backpack containing the panda and slung it over his shoulder, then kicked Li Ming, sneering, “Serves you right for meddling, you bastard! Now the panda is still mine, isn’t it? Let me send you on your way!”

With that, the man grabbed a large stone and smashed it down on Li Ming’s limbs again and again, each blow landing on his joints, until every bone in his arms and legs was shattered. Only then did he stop. Standing up, he seized Li Ming by the foot and began dragging him up the mountain.

This man was none other than the leader of the poaching ring—a ruthless, audacious criminal. Hearing the sirens below, he realized his fate was sealed and immediately instructed his men to scatter, arranging for them to regroup at a rendezvous point below.

In truth, this was a diversion, to draw the police away. The captured poachers would certainly reveal his identity, and the police would be lying in wait at the rendezvous.

But he, instead, went the opposite way—up the mountain. Zhongnanshan stretched for hundreds of miles, with numerous scenic spots and throngs of tourists. The police could never seal off the entire mountain. He intended to hide out for a few days until the search slackened, then slip away undetected.

Yet fate had other plans. He chanced upon Li Ming, who had fainted from blood loss. Hating Li Ming fiercely, he vented his rage before preparing to toss him off a cliff to destroy the evidence.

Zhongnanshan was riddled with strange rocks and cliffs. It was not far before he found a precipice. At that hour, the sun was rising and the moon setting; mist rose from below, and sunlight painted a rainbow stretching from the base of the cliff into the sky.

“Well, aren’t you lucky, to die in such a paradise!” the man sneered, ready to shove Li Ming over the edge.

Li Ming was already spent, his limbs shattered, drifting in and out of consciousness from the pain. Now, barely lucid, he heard that he was to be thrown to his death. Helpless, he could do nothing—his arms and legs were destroyed.

The man found Li Ming’s size cumbersome and set the panda down, then half-dragged, half-carried Li Ming toward the cliff’s edge. Now, only Li Ming’s mouth could move; mustering the last of his awareness, he saw his attacker’s neck looming close and, without hesitation, bit down savagely.

A howl of agony burst from the poacher, who tried to shove Li Ming away with one hand and batter him with the other, hoping to break his grip.

But Li Ming only bit harder, gulping down the blood that welled from his enemy’s throat.

Pouring every ounce of strength into his jaws, he tore away a chunk of flesh, along with a ragged piece of windpipe.

The poacher, crazed with pain, lost his footing. With a final, wordless scream, both he and Li Ming tumbled off the cliff together…

Li Ming felt his body plummeting rapidly, plunging toward the rainbow at the base of the precipice. He chewed and swallowed the bloody flesh, then burst out laughing. As he fell, he glimpsed a flash of brilliant, seven-colored light, and then all went dark.

He did not know how much time had passed. Gradually, he felt light as air, drifting, with countless points of white light dancing before his closed eyes—but he could not seem to open them. Summoning all his strength, he roared, forcing his eyes open—

And saw, looming before him, a tiger’s head as large as a water vat, jaws agape, a crimson tongue lashing out to lick him.

Only one thought flashed through Li Ming’s mind—then he fainted away once more.