What Made Cao Ya Different

Several of them looked grim. Wu Xie took a look through his binoculars and swore under his breath.

Monk Hua had also spotted the caravan below. His expression shifted, and he quietly asked Chen Pi A Si what they should do.

Chen Pi A Si took a look and gave a scornful smile. "Good. That means we're on the right track. Keep moving. Ignore them."

Fatty coveted the advanced equipment A Ning's team had brought, especially those dozens of guns. He asked Chen Pi A Si why he hadn't gotten some firearms beforehand. What good were washbasins and sanitary pads? They would have been better off bringing more food.

Chen Pi A Si scoffed, saying that in their line of work, strength didn't lie in numbers.

Fatty asked what it did lie in.

Chen Pi A Si couldn't be bothered to answer. He only told them to follow him once they crossed the snow line.

As they talked, none of them made much effort to hide anything from their guide, Shunzi, though they did speak in dialect. Shunzi was ethnically Korean, and his Mandarin wasn't very fluent, so he couldn't understand much.

Still, he had worked as a guide for years. He knew to let travelers' conversations wash over him, never butting in, much less asking questions.

If he got too inquisitive, they might develop murderous intentions and silence him once they reached their destination.

Cao Ya wanted to tell Shunzi that he was overthinking things. They certainly weren't tourists, but tomb robbers, and their business was hardly aboveboard.

If it had been Chen Pi A Si's group alone, they might really have killed Shunzi to keep him quiet.

But Cao Ya had come along with Fatty, Wu Xie, Poker-Face, and Pan Zi. Unless someone was an enemy, they wouldn't agree to harming an uninvolved person.

There was no need to worry about Shunzi's safety.

After watching A Ning's team from the mountainside for a while, they continued upward.

Wu Xie sat on his horse, bundled in four or five layers of clothing with a leather coat over everything, yet he still felt cold whenever the wind blew. Fatty, Pan Zi, and the others beside him were no better off, especially that old bastard Chen Pi A Si.

He didn't look his age, certainly not like a man in his nineties, but the years had caught up with him all the same. In a place this harsh, he could manage for a little while, but fatigue inevitably began to show as time wore on.

Of course, Wu Xie wasn't mocking him. He himself was hardly doing any better.

Even Shunzi, who knew the route like the back of his hand and was a strong, fit army veteran who still exercised regularly, looked weary and exhausted in this place unfit for human survival.

Poker-Face was holding up somewhat better, though his deep, heavy breathing showed that he wasn't in the same shape he had been earlier either.

Only Cao Ya seemed completely unaffected. He even had the leisure to dismount and walk, his mountaineering boots making a distinctive sound against the snow.

Cao Ya stood straight, smiling as he looked around at the snowy mountains. He really looked like a tourist, and not one deep in these desolate, unforgiving mountains, but at some scenic attraction with every facility imaginable.

"Damn it, Cao Ya, you... what the hell is your body made of? Even the horses are panting, and you're perfectly fine." Fatty barely had the strength left to swear.

"Save your fucking breath," Wu Xie panted.

Cao Ya occasionally broke away from the group to wander and look around. Although he had visited plenty of places and seen plenty of scenery as a tomb robber, this was his first time in snowy mountains like these.

He had mostly worked alone before, and a great tomb in mountains like these was certainly more than one man could handle, so he had generally kept a respectful distance.

This was his first visit, and with his formidable power, he had nothing to worry about.

Cao Ya let loose and enjoyed himself. No matter how far the group went, he could catch up in no time.

The others were green-eyed with envy and jealousy.

"Fuck," Pan Zi muttered. This was the first time he had realized just how incredible Fatty's friend was.

Wandering through the deep mountain forests, Cao Ya found some medicinal herbs that had been growing for many years. He didn't pick them; they were of little use to him now.

Better to leave them in this rarely visited place. Some hunters and herb gatherers in the mountains depended on such things for their livelihood.

By the time Cao Ya reached the place Shunzi had designated for the night,

the others were already huddled inside a dilapidated wooden building, eating. Cao Ya didn't actually need food, but after a moment's thought, he ate a little anyway. The building had been a supply depot for the mountain outposts. After multilateral talks, several nearby outposts had been relocated, leaving this place abandoned. The outposts above the snow line were deserted too.

None of them slept well that night. The wind and snow were so fierce that they kept worrying the outpost would collapse under the weight.

Once again, Cao Ya was the sole exception. Halfway through the night, he went outside. Cold wind flooded in, instantly jolting the drowsy group awake and setting them all swearing.

Cao Ya apologetically pulled the door shut behind him. The cursing inside soon died down, followed by a chorus of snores.

"What a night of wind and snow." Cao Ya stood in the blizzard, letting snowflakes settle on him. In a few steps, he reached a mountaintop and gazed out. The moon was half hidden behind dark clouds, a blizzard filled heaven and earth, and the wind cut like a knife.

"How would the old me ever have dared come somewhere like this?" Cao Ya murmured to himself, grateful for the power shared by his other selves. He felt he ought to work harder. Even with the limitations of his world, he had to contribute something.

Early the next morning, everyone got up and set off again. Shunzi found it strange; tourists rarely pushed themselves this hard. He knew something fishy was going on, but since he had taken their money, he pretended not to notice and let them do as they pleased.

The temperature had plummeted. Few southerners could adapt to weather like this, and apart from Fatty, Ye Cheng, and Shunzi, everyone was frozen stiff.

Oh, Cao Ya was still the exception.

His effortless manner kept drawing sidelong glances from the others.

By noon, the snow on the ground was so deep that there was no path left to follow. They relied entirely on Shunzi leading his horse ahead to break a trail.

Cao Ya was also leading his horse, the only one of them not riding. Seeing that he still looked perfectly well, they discussed it and had him bring up the rear. If anything happened, he would be in a position to help.

Cao Ya ambled along at the back of the group and made a few small motions with his fingers. Shunzi suddenly felt as though the horse he was leading had found fresh strength, making things much easier for him.

Just then, the wind picked up. Shunzi studied the clouds, then turned and asked whether they should stop here for the day. From the look of the sky, strong winds might be coming. If they had enjoyed their look at the snowy mountains, they ought to call it enough; going any higher would be dangerous.

Chen Pi A Si breathed out a plume of mist and waved a hand, telling him to wait.

They stopped to rest, ate some dry rations, and chatted. Nobody expressed any surprise at Cao Ya's unusual behavior. They were too damned used to it by now.

Poker-Face stared at the snowy mountain ahead, his brows drawing together slightly, as though something was worrying him.

Wu Xie glanced at Poker-Face. Knowing that asking him would get him nowhere, he turned to chat with Fatty instead.

Had he remembered something? Cao Ya knew Poker-Face's identity. He was the patriarch of the Zhang Lineage, named Zhang Qiling, with qilin blood in his veins and considerable fighting skills.

Poker-Face carried many burdens and had been through far too much. Even now, he was still searching for his lost memories.

But if he truly recovered those memories, his life would inevitably be turned upside down.

Whether that would be good or bad was impossible to say.

Still, having a goal to guide him was better than drifting through life in a fog.