One day later, on the express train from Jilin to Beijing. In the last carriage, five PLA soldiers were sitting together. Among them were Squad Leader Shen Yuanchao and soldier Zhang Zhu, who had just experienced the "strange corpse incident."
That incident had already been classified under a gag order. The corpse of the monster had been photographed and sent that same day to the Chinese Academy of Sciences' Institute of Biology in Beijing. Several academicians specializing in evolutionary biology viewed it as a priceless treasure. This strange corpse posed a challenge to Darwin's theory of evolution and, in terms of scientific significance, could be said to surpass even the lost Peking Man skull fossil, missing for over half a century.
Because of the previous lesson learned from the disappearance of that skull fossil, and to eliminate any risks during transportation, the Armed Police Command issued orders for confidential transport. A special train was approved solely for this purpose.
Due to the nature of the transport, there were no passenger cars on this military train—just a few freight cars hitched in the front. Besides the two train engineers in the locomotive, only these five soldiers remained in the last carriage.
Shen Yuanchao and Zhang Zhu, being the key individuals involved, were to report the incident at the Academy. They were also the only ones who knew the truth about the "item" being transported. The other three soldiers had been told that, due to their brave performance in extinguishing a forest fire, they were being sent to the capital to receive a commendation from a senior official. They were also told a "specialty product" from the Greater Khingan Mountains was to be delivered to Beijing, and that they were needed to escort it and ensure its safety.
The strange corpse was now wrapped tightly in several burlap sacks and lay quietly in the corner of the carriage. Shen Yuanchao and Zhang Zhu were seated at an angle that allowed them to see the position of the corpse.
Ever since boarding the train, Shen Yuanchao had felt a constant sense of unease. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw the image of a comrade being bitten to death by the monster. Every time he opened his eyes, he saw the burlap sacks lying right in front of him. It made sitting, standing, sleeping, or staying awake all equally uncomfortable.
Zhang Zhu, on the other hand, was a simple fellow. Apart from getting motion sick on the train, he felt no particular discomfort. After sitting on the train for a while, even the motion sickness went away. He slept soundly and ate heartily. Shen Yuanchao gritted his teeth watching him—how could he be so carefree with that thing lying right in front of him? Their comrade had died at its hands! Had he already forgotten that gory scene? Then Shen Yuanchao remembered: Zhang Zhu had gone to find the company commander at the time and hadn't actually witnessed the event.
"Yuanchao, what are you thinking about again? You've been acting like you lost your soul since we got on the train." The speaker was Jiang Zidá, a platoon leader from the neighboring company and the highest-ranking among the five.
Jiang Zidá was from Sichuan, and he and Shen Yuanchao had joined the military in the same year. They'd been together since boot camp. Though not quite inseparable, they were at least on good terms.
"What do you mean, lost my soul? Lao Jiang, don't talk nonsense." Shen Yuanchao was now sensitive to such terms. "I was on that mountain for three days and nights without sleep. You try it sometime—you'd have collapsed long ago."
"Who among us hasn't gone days without sleep? You think you're the only tough one? Besides, why not take the opportunity to sleep now? Don't get to Beijing and show up in front of the brass looking like a ghost—what a disgrace to us Armed Police."
"You think I don't want to sleep? I just… can't," Shen Yuanchao explained dryly.
"If you can't sleep, then don't. Squad Leader Shen, I heard your unit ran into a ghost in the mountains? Even fired your guns? Sounded like a firecracker barrage. What really happened? Come on, tell us."
"Who told you that nonsense? There aren't that many ghosts in the world. Confucius even said, don't speak of ghosts and gods. Don't believe those rumors. We ran into a bear—fired our guns at a bear."
"Oh please, don't talk nonsense. 'Don't speak' just means he didn't dare speak of ghosts and gods. Besides, our company was near yours at the time. A bear? My ass. Would you need to fire a hundred rounds to deal with a bear? I heard it myself—sounded like five hundred firecrackers going off. Zhang Zhu, tell us—what really happened? Zhang Zhu? Why are you shaking like that?"
Only then did everyone notice Zhang Zhu's face had gone pale, and he was trembling uncontrollably, pointing toward the "specialty product from the Greater Khingan Mountains": "It… it moved!"
The moment those words came out, Shen Yuanchao's hair stood on end, and a chill ran down his spine. Following Zhang Zhu's pointing finger, he saw that the tightly wrapped bundle had begun to tremble with ripples, like waves on water. The vibrations were growing more frequent and more intense.
Goddammit! It's starting again. Shen Yuanchao couldn't care less about the company commander's instruction to deliver the corpse safely. He gritted his teeth, pulled out the Type 54 pistol from his waistband (the only gun allowed during transport for emergencies), and fired a full clip at the head area of the monster through the sack.
Seven bullets emptied in seconds. The bundle stopped moving. Shen Yuanchao was just starting to breathe again when Zhang Zhu shouted, "Squad Leader, it's moving again!"
No shit! I see it too! This time the tremors were even more violent—it looked like the thing inside couldn't wait to break free.
"Yuanchao, what the hell is in there?" The other soldiers had been shocked by the sudden shooting. Seeing the fear written on Shen Yuanchao's face, they realized whatever was in the sack terrified him to the core.
Shen Yuanchao holstered the now-empty gun and started rummaging around the carriage for a weapon. "You guys wanted to know what we shot at yesterday? It's in that sack! I don't know if it's a ghost, but it sure as hell ain't human! Li Maocai was bitten to death by it. We pumped over a hundred bullets into it and couldn't kill it! Don't just stand there—if it gets out of that sack, none of us are making it out alive!"
"Holy hell! Why didn't you say so earlier?!" Jiang Zidá and the other two soldiers stared wide-eyed at the sack. Jiang reacted quickly—he, Zhang Zhu, and the two soldiers removed their belts and re-tied the sack with four extra layers.
This carriage had been converted from a freight car. In one corner, cleaning tools were still lying around. Shen Yuanchao rushed over and grabbed a shovel. "Move aside!" he yelled. As the others jumped away, he brought the shovel down with all his strength on the monster's head area. If it had been a normal person, that blow could've taken off their head.
But unfortunately, the thing inside the sack wasn't a normal person.
Clang! The shovel tore through the sack and rang with a metallic clang, a spray of sparks flying. The shovel bounced high into the air.
That blow seemed to have an effect—the vibrations stopped. But before anyone could relax, there was a loud bang, and the four leather belts snapped, the sack tore apart, and a creature—burnt black and hairless—sat upright, staring at the soldiers with eyes devoid of eyelids.
Zhang Zhu, who was closest, collapsed to the floor in terror.
His movement caught the monster's attention. It tilted its head and stared blankly at him. Shen Yuanchao had raised the shovel but didn't dare strike. Jiang Zidá and the other soldiers were also frozen. The atmosphere in the carriage turned to ice.
Something felt off to Shen Yuanchao, but he couldn't tell exactly what.
"Squad Leader, it doesn't seem hostile… maybe we just let it go?" Zhang Zhu muttered. The monster's gaze made his hair stand on end, but he dared not move and sought help from Shen Yuanchao.
"Sure, go ask it. If it agrees, I've got no problem." Shen Yuanchao was at a loss.
Zhang Zhu's face turned bitter. "Squad Leader…" Before he could finish, the monster lunged forward, opened its mouth full of jagged fangs, and bit deep into Zhang Zhu's neck. Zhang Zhu didn't even have time to react—he was bitten hard and fast.
"Goddammit! Open your filthy mouth!" Shen Yuanchao struck the monster's neck with the shovel four or five times, sparks flying each time. Jiang Zidá, weaponless, joined in by lifting a long bench and smashing it against the monster.
The blows had no effect. The monster bit through Zhang Zhu's artery, blood gushing down its throat. Zhang Zhu struggled briefly before falling still.
It was drinking his blood! Shen Yuanchao suddenly realized. The monster had changed since yesterday. The charred skin on its chest and limbs had started regenerating. Even its fleshless face had grown a thin layer of tissue. It must be healing by drinking blood.
Jiang Zida's two accompanying soldiers were completely petrified, frozen in place. Shen Yuanchao, having experienced it once already, had some idea of what was coming. With just these few people and a single iron shovel, there was no way they could handle this monster. Never mind avenging Li Maocai and Zhang Zhu—even getting out alive seemed unlikely. Thinking of this, he yanked Captain Jiang up and shouted, "Open the carriage door! Jump!"
Before they could move, the carriage door opened on its own. A man in white entered. It was hard to determine his age—his face looked no more than twenty-five or twenty-six, but his head of white hair made it impossible to guess how old he really was. The group stared in shock; the scenery outside was flashing by quickly, and there were no other vehicles visible. How had this man gotten on? Could he have been clinging to the train?
The newcomer ignored them and instead cast a look of disgust at the monster, which was now shakily rising to its feet.
Ever since the white-haired man had entered the carriage, the monster had become visibly agitated. It released Zhang Zhu's corpse and began roaring at the newcomer, seemingly ready to leap and tear out his throat.
But the white-haired man said coldly, "Drop the act. You know who I am." Upon hearing this, the monster immediately wilted. It stopped roaring, began retreating step by step, and eventually huddled in a corner, trembling.
The white-haired man walked up to the monster and looked it over. Frowning, he said, "Not even that huge fire could kill you, and you've recovered to this extent. How many people's blood have you drunk?"
The monster didn't dare meet his eyes, bowing its head and letting out pitiful, groaning noises, as though begging for mercy. It was like a frog encountering a snake—too terrified to run, powerless to resist, left only to tremble and cry.
"Enough. Time to go." The white-haired man pulled a dagger from inside his coat. Though he called it a dagger, the blade was over three feet long and double-edged—more accurately described as a short sword. Sensing its doom, the monster wrapped its arms around its head and began howling.
As it wailed, it peeked at the white-haired man. Seeing no sign of mercy, its eyes suddenly flashed with rage. With a howl, it lunged.
The white-haired man snorted coldly. He hadn't expected the monster to counterattack, but it wasn't enough to catch him off guard. His blade flashed as he slashed at the charging monster.
The creature instinctively raised a claw to block. Blood splashed silently through the air as the sword sliced through the claw like a hot knife through butter. A "poof" followed—a spray of acrid black blood splattered across half the carriage. The monster, previously impervious to hundreds of bullets, had just lost a limb.
Seeing the black blood, the white-haired man grimaced and covered his nose and mouth with his left hand, clearly repulsed. To avoid getting the blood on him, he stepped right, increasing the distance between them.
The monster screamed in pain, its body arching. It no longer seemed to want to resist—just waiting for the end. But then, the white-haired man hesitated. He glanced at the growing pool of black blood at his feet, took another step back, and his expression showed deep revulsion.
Seeing his hesitation, the monster seemed to realize something. With a shriek, it flung a stream of black blood at the man from its severed arm. He dodged to the right, avoiding contact—but in doing so, he gave the monster a path to the door.
The doorway was now open and empty. Only Shen Yuanchao and the others, who had been about to jump, stood nearby—and they clearly couldn't stop it. The monster charged forward, nearly leaping out of the train. The white-haired man cursed his carelessness, sprang off the wall to leap over the blood, and thrust his short sword toward the monster's back—but he was a second too late. The monster's feet had already left the floor.
Just as the monster believed it had escaped, a black iron plate suddenly appeared in front of it—Shen Yuanchao had swung the iron shovel. The monster, airborne, couldn't dodge. With a loud clang, the shovel struck its face.
The blow didn't harm the monster much—it just halted midair for a split second (though the force had torn Shen Yuanchao's shoulders and ripped his palms, sending the shovel flying out of the carriage). But that split second was enough—the white-haired man's sword followed through, stabbing deep into the monster's back.
With a final howl, the monster died. The white-haired man, still unsatisfied, flicked his wrist and sliced upward—his blade was sharp enough to split the monster's torso clean from the chest up. Its body collapsed, lifeless.
The sword's guard was soaked in black blood. The white-haired man hesitated, then left the weapon embedded in the corpse rather than pulling it out—a move that would later benefit Shen Yuanchao.
Shen Yuanchao approached the white-haired man, still shaken. "Comrade, thank you so much. We'd have been done for without you. I don't know what that thing was—bullets couldn't even kill it. May I ask what unit you're from?"
The white-haired man glanced at him, clearly reluctant to answer. But in the end, perhaps out of appreciation for Shen's timely shovel strike, he said, "Don't ask who I am. Knowing too much won't do you any good. Someone will explain what happened today."
Shen Yuanchao hadn't expected to get much from him anyway. This response already showed the man didn't entirely reject him. After a few polite words, Shen walked to Zhang Zhu's body, stood silently for a moment, then took off his military coat and draped it over the corpse.
Jiang Zida approached the white-haired man. "Little…" Seeing the man's white hair, he corrected himself, "Comrade, what should we do with this corpse? Should we bag it? It… it can't come back to life, right?"
The white-haired man had no interest in answering, but he gave a clear response with his actions.
He pulled a small porcelain bottle from his pocket, unscrewed the lid, and poured a string of red droplets onto the corpse. As soon as the drops hit the air, they ignited with a whoosh, turning into fireballs. They landed on the monster's body and instantly enveloped it in flames.
Shen Yuanchao and the others stared in disbelief. They had learned in school that water was made of hydrogen and oxygen—both flammable—but they'd never seen it burn like this…
The corpse burned rapidly. Strangely, the outer flames were red, but the inner flames were black. After about two minutes, the black core of the flame swelled and swallowed the red. The fire turned entirely black, and the corpse dissolved into a column of bluish-black smoke. When the smoke dispersed, not even a speck of ash remained on the floor—only the short sword lay there, abandoned.
The floor wasn't scorched at all. It was like a mythical hellfire that incinerated the body into nothing without leaving a trace.
Shen Yuanchao and the others stared at each other in awe. No one dared speak to the white-haired man again. Suddenly, a radio in the corner crackled to life, playing a tune: "You talk of Liaozhai, I talk of Liaozhai…"（"Liaozhai" is an ancient Chinese supernatural horror novel.）
Shen Yuanchao kicked the radio out of the carriage. The white-haired man glanced at him, then said, "You helped me this time. I'll repay you one day." He paused, then added, "And if you're no longer around, I'll repay your descendants."
With that, he turned and leapt from the speeding train, disappearing into the scenery outside. As Jiang Zida stood there stunned, Shen Yuanchao quietly walked over to retrieve the abandoned sword.
Seven hours later, the train arrived at Xizhàn Station in the capital. Zhang Zhu's body was taken away. Shen Yuanchao, Jiang Zida, and the others were escorted to a military guesthouse outside the Sixth Ring Road. For three days, no one spoke to them except to deliver meals. On the fourth day, a staff officer named Zhang arrived.
Officer Zhang brought news: due to their bravery during the Daxing'anling wildfire, defending the lives and property of the people, it had been decided that Jiang Zida and the other two would be awarded third-class merits and promoted by two ranks. Shen Yuanchao would receive a second-class merit and be promoted three ranks. Li Maocai and Zhang Zhu would be posthumously awarded first-class merits and designated as martyrs.
There was also a verbal notice: the unknown biological corpse found at the fire scene had been identified by experts from the Chinese Academy of Sciences, using photos, as a wild human-bear native to the Daxing'anling region. To prevent unnecessary rumors, the unit leadership had decided that all details regarding the "wild human-bear" would be classified as top secret. All PLA soldiers involved were expected to strictly comply with confidentiality regulations.