Live Cat Appraisal: Starting with a Beast That's Got a Long Prison Record

Chapter 101 Scenery and Awe

The fellow villager's somber words, like a wind carrying the chill of the high plateau, touched everyone's hearts:
Do you know why locals rarely come here to take photos?

"Because our ancestors taught us with their lives: the most beautiful scenery is always in the most dangerous place, and if you want to conquer it, you must first learn to respect it."

This simple advice, carrying a heavy weight, lingered in the hearts of Chen Nian and the others for a long time.

It was as if a mysterious and solemn veil had been draped over this dreamlike sea of ​​flowers.

Wuxian Xiaoliang pulled his fellow villager aside to learn more about the situation. Chen Nian and Lin Sen sat together, looking at the sea of ​​flowers in the distance with complicated expressions.

Lin Sen: "Cuckoo Hell. Hell? Is this place really that dangerous?"

"I don't know." Chen Nian shook her head, her gaze calmly fixed on the dark corners shrouded in mist deep within the sea of ​​flowers: "But I know that listening to advice leads to a full stomach."

"So let's just stay here until the new guide arrives."

“That makes sense!” Lin Sen nodded in deep agreement.

Time slipped away quietly as we waited.

The group remained quietly on the open hillside, while the photographers seized the opportunity to capture the magnificent panoramic view of this safe area.

Chen Nian stood in the best vantage point, holding up binoculars, carefully scanning the shrubs and treeline along the edge of the flower sea.

He knew that such a rich and relatively secluded environment had a natural attraction for wild cats, and that there might be unexpected discoveries.

Unfortunately, Chen Nian didn't gain anything until a new guide arrived.

Through the telescope, all that could be seen were swaying flower branches and the occasional bird flying by.

The new guide was about forty years old.

His body was as thin as a jagged rock on a mountain cliff.

His cheeks were sunken, and his face was sculpted by the intense sunlight and harsh winds of the plateau, leaving it angular and full of wrinkles.

What's most striking is his slightly narrowed eyes.

The gaze emanating from his eyes was calm yet sharp, as if it contained the wisdom and vicissitudes accumulated over decades of wandering the mountains and fields. It could see through the clouds and mist and understand people's hearts.

After stepping onto the slope, he whispered a few words to the old guide, his bronze face showing no change in expression.

He then quickly scanned the waiting queue.

His gaze lingered on each person's face for a fleeting moment, as if it were a tangible presence.

Then, he silently took out a slightly crumpled cigarette, lit it, and took a deep drag.

Amidst the swirling smoke, he patted the old guide on the broad shoulder, indicating that the other man could leave without worry.

Then, with a cigarette dangling from his lips, he walked steadily to the front of the crowd.

An infinitesimal quantity steps forward and extends its hand.

"Hello, thank you for your help."

The new guide shook his hand firmly.

His voice wasn't loud, carrying the unique, hollow huskiness of the high plateau, yet every word was clear and carried undeniable weight.

"My name is Gesang."

“I will be responsible for the rest of the journey. I’ve walked this path for over thirty years, and I can find it with my eyes closed. Just follow along and your safety will be guaranteed.”

He paused, his gaze sweeping over everyone: "Of course, the prerequisite is—obedience."

"If anyone takes it upon themselves to wander around, I will turn around immediately."

After saying that, he said no more and gestured for Infinite Quantity to go aside for a detailed discussion.

The rest of the team exchanged glances, sensing that this Gesang guide exuded an unapproachable coldness.

Gesang does not understand infinitesimals.

He spent most of his life with this silent mountain at his feet.

When Gesangna's rock-hard face softened slightly, he heard that they had come to make a documentary and that the team members were experts or professors from various fields in China.

He then inquired about the team's preparations.

The infinitesimal told him that everyone had started training a month in advance, and that the people in the team were all people who often walked in the wild, so physical strength was definitely not a problem.

"Hmm." Gesang simply responded through his nose, his gaze fixed on the undulating mountains in the distance.

"The plateau and the peaceful land are two different worlds."

But he didn't say anything more.

Director Zanghu then showed off the team's equipment.

In addition to standard mountaineering equipment, the equipment also included life-saving devices such as pulse oximeters and satellite phones, making it quite comprehensive in its preparations.

Gesang's gaze swept over these life-saving tools one by one, and his tense jawline finally relaxed a little, with the corners of his mouth twitching upwards very slightly.

It was a smile of approval.

"good."

“Here, even a simple change in weather can pose a deadly danger.”

It seems these people still have some sense of awe.

But not enough.

After obtaining the consent of the infinitesimal, Gesang stood in front of the team again.

Everyone was looking at Gesang.

They wanted to hear what instructions the new guide had. Gesang met these gazes, some young, some composed, but all filled with curiosity, his face expressionless.

He simply raised his hand, pointing to the distant sea of ​​flowers that shimmered with dreamlike colors under the sunlight. His voice remained low, yet it was like a boulder thrown into the calm heart of a lake:

"Sixty people have been buried there since the beginning of spring this year."

"I have seen thirteen of them with my own eyes."

"They were mostly young people, with a few canisters of oxygen in their backpacks and a pair of expensive shoes on their feet. They thought they could conquer this plateau, but as it turns out, they failed."

"Youthful vigor is of no use on this plateau."

"They will remain here forever."

"This sea of ​​flowers is nature's altar, and every blooming azalea is a warning bought with the price of countless lives."

He took a drag of his cigarette, the smoke blurring his striking facial features, and began to tell a story:
“Last May, a young photographer came to me.” Gesang’s voice sounded like he was narrating something very ordinary: “He said he wanted to shoot the most stunning video of the rhododendron sea.”

“I advised him to wait until the weather was better before going, but he wouldn’t listen.”

"And what happened? When we got halfway up the mountain, a dark cloud loomed over us, and hailstones the size of fists mixed with snowflakes started to fall. One moment we were sweating from the heat, and the next we were freezing to the bone. We huddled in the cracks between the rocks, our lips turned purple, and we could barely speak. In the end, we were hoisted down by helicopter and survived. The camera was even cracked from the cold."

Gesang's gaze slowly swept over every face in the group.

Until he could clearly see what he wanted in everyone's eyes.

It was no longer just simple excitement and curiosity, but a genuine calm and awe of this beautiful yet harsh land that made him stop talking.

The last question was asked:
"Now, do you still want to go?"

The air seemed to freeze.

Only the mountain breeze, rustling through the sea of ​​flowers, whispers softly, like countless departed souls issuing a warning.

The heavy silence lasted for two minutes, as oppressive as the thin air on a plateau, making one's chest feel heavy.

Finally, the elderly professor in the group, whose temples were gray and who was over fifty years old, broke the silence.

He pushed up his glasses, his eyes calm and resolute: "Of course I'll go."

His voice wasn't loud, but it carried a calm and steady quality honed through countless trials.

"The mountain is there, the road is under our feet, and our hearts are filled with awe."

Chen Nian knew this professor.

He was one of the first expedition members in China to traverse the Sahara Desert in 09, and also the person in the team who had the greatest reverence for nature.

Then, the other members of the team also expressed their opinions.

Chen Nian took a deep breath of the crisp air, looked intently at Gesang, and said with the stubbornness and determination unique to young people, "Brother Liang said that we came here with a mission, and we can't be scared back!"

"And we're already here!"

"Yes." Lin Sen nodded in agreement. "Since we're already here!"

Not a single person chose to back down.

Everyone looked at Gesang, and as their eyes met, the initial shock transformed into even more resolute courage.

Wuxianxiaoliang walked up to Gesang, looked at his teammates, and smiled proudly: "How are they, Brother Gesang? How are my teammates?"

Gesang's gaze swept over the group of explorers with clear and determined eyes once again.

The hard lines on his face finally softened completely, and the corners of his mouth even curved into a gentle smile.

"Hmm, not bad," he commented briefly.

He then carefully stubbed out the cigarette butt on the solid stone at his feet, making sure the embers were completely extinguished, before bending down to pick it up and put it into the small bag he carried with him.

Having done all this, he no longer looked at the crowd, leaving only one sentence:
"Five minutes, I'll be waiting for you up ahead."

After saying that, he turned around and walked with steady and familiar steps straight towards the sea of ​​azaleas that was like a dream and like a legend.

Those who remained looked at each other in bewilderment.

Silently digesting Gesang's soul-stirring warning, he quickly checked his equipment and packed his bags.

Gesang has achieved his goal.

The ruthless danger lurking beneath that breathtaking beauty has been branded into everyone's heart, and the awe for nature has never been so clear and heavy.

Five minutes later, the team was fully assembled.

At the entrance to the sea of ​​flowers, Gesang was leaning against a gnarled old tree, the mottled bark contrasting with his bronze face.

He raised his hand and pointed to a cluster of azaleas in the depths of the sea of ​​flowers, blooming exceptionally profusely like pink clouds.

"Do you see that patch of pink?"

Gesang's voice was exceptionally clear amidst the tranquility of the sea of ​​flowers: "Last year, a Tibetan girl planted them herself. She said she hoped these flowers would be like the light of butter lamps, guiding lost people home."

"Remember it, and remember this sentence."

"The most beautiful scenery is always accompanied by the deepest reverence."

After saying that, he stepped steadily into the colorful path paved with flowers.

"Follow."

"The clouds are pressing down; it's going to rain soon." He glanced up at the leaden-gray clouds that had gathered at some point, his voice still steady, yet it sounded like the beating of a marching drum.

(A tiger in the heart, yet a rose in the hand)

(End of this chapter)