The World of Mercenaries

Chapter 12: The Mysterious Orphan

In winter, relations among villagers were exceedingly cold. No one visited each other, not just to conserve energy and warmth, but also because everyone feared unexpected guests bearing bad news. Rumors began to spread: “Did that snow leopard freeze to death?”

“No one knows.”

“Look, he isn’t hurt. How could he kill a snow leopard without getting injured?”

“And the leopard’s body doesn’t have any wounds.”

“It doesn’t seem to be frozen; the body’s still soft.”

Daqingshan, as always, remained silent. He dragged the snow leopard home, gutted it, filled a pot with snow, gathered dry wood, and lit a fire. At last, smoke billowed from the chimney of his long-abandoned hut, and the long-forgotten scent of meat wafted through the village.

When the meat was ready, the boy packed the best cuts into a wooden basin and went door to door, delivering it to those who had helped him in the past. In his usual quiet manner, he knocked on doors, bowed, and said, “Thank you, Uncle/Aunt/Grandpa/Grandma,” before placing the meat down and leaving.

Two days later, at dusk, villagers once again spotted a small figure struggling through the snow—Daqingshan. This time, he was dragging not one, but two snow foxes!

On the Frozen Continent, snow foxes were the craftiest creatures. Unlike other animals, snow foxes retained their bright red fur even in the dead of winter, making them stand out. Yet despite their vivid color, almost no hunters managed to catch them. Most hunters didn’t even want to try.

Years ago, a hunter had injured a snow fox, and from that day on, foxes visited his house daily. First, they killed and dragged away his chickens, then set their sights on his pigs. But pigs were too large to carry off, so the cunning foxes rode on the pigs' backs, using their ears as reins and their tails as whips, driving them back to their lairs before killing and feasting on them.

Since then, no one dared to hunt foxes. How did this little boy manage to kill two?

Silent as always, Daqingshan returned home, gutted the foxes, and boiled their meat. Though fox meat was not particularly tasty, in winter, food was food. Once the meat was cooked, he repeated his earlier routine, delivering the best portions to those who had helped him.

Every few days, Daqingshan would drag back a large predator to the village. The small hut left behind by his parents became the only house with a constantly smoking chimney. The villagers who had once aided him no longer had to worry about food.

In his yard, the cured pelts of various predators accumulated, supported by sturdy wooden stakes.

It was during this time that a rumor began to circulate in the village: after Daqingshan’s parents were killed by an avalanche caused by the Mountain God, the god chose Daqingshan as his successor. It was said that the Mountain God ordered predators to offer themselves to him as food—otherwise, how could it be that none of the animals had any wounds? Since then, even fewer people dared to speak to Daqingshan.

The harsh winter passed, and the orphan who should have starved to death had instead grown healthier and stronger than other children. His old clothes no longer fit, so the boy took the cured pelts, cut them, used animal bones as needles, and animal sinews as thread to sew himself new garments.

That summer, the villagers’ suspicions were confirmed. When Daqingshan returned after disappearing for several days, he was accompanied by a strange green dog that walked on two legs. Any animal that saw the dog would instantly tremble, losing control of its bowels. What other dog could possess such authority but a guardian hound bestowed by the Mountain God?