Today, the notebook and the drawing are right in front of me, brought to me as instructed by the old lama.

Without a doubt, I do not understand these words, but I can tell that this is German. Clearly, the body discovered by the young man back then belonged to a German.

Even though I don’t grasp the meaning of those words, I can see the drawing and understand what the notebook is conveying. There are many sketches in the notebook, and on the pages preceding the Tibetan phrase “the limit of the world,” I see a massive bronze door.

That bronze door is depicted with extremely fine strokes; the owner of this notebook must be a skilled artist. I can tell that the door, while not exactly the same as the one seen on Changbai Mountain, is certainly of the same kind.

Could there be more than one such giant door? Is there another bronze giant door hidden in the heart of the Himalayas?

I am astonished and look at the phrase “the limit of the world” and the accompanying illustration.

Could the things depicted in this drawing be the ultimate?

I studied the drawing carefully, and three days later, I finally realized what it was. Next, I will describe in the most detailed manner what is depicted in this drawing; perhaps a clever person could guess what it is.

First of all, the size of this notebook is roughly that of a palm. Secondly, the drawings are made with a pencil, with extremely delicate lines. Clearly, the owner of the notebook was not in a mindset of merely recording shapes while drawing; he held himself to the standards of artistic imitation, so this drawing is done with great seriousness.

Finally, what we can see in the drawing resembles a turtle shell. I don’t have a scale, so I don’t know how big it is, but judging from the figures standing next to it in the drawing, it is an extraordinarily large object. The turtle shell has very tiny cracks, and what surprises me is that the author of this drawing has depicted all the cracks. It’s clear that he meticulously illustrated them, not as a means to show off or demonstrate artistic skill.

Right next to this “turtle shell,” there are eight smaller “turtle shells” arranged in a seemingly random manner, forming a strange shape alongside the large “turtle shell.”

Surrounding all the turtle shells are many tentacle-like objects, or rather, things that look like cables, interconnected like a spider web.

Is this the limit of the world?

At that moment, I felt extremely puzzled because these things looked like particularly ugly spots. If it weren’t for the artist deliberately including a few people in the composition to indicate that these objects are immensely large, they could be considered unremarkable items.

What on earth are these? How could they be called the limit of the world?

Day Eleven:
The dull oil bottle no longer knows where he is; all around him is a vast expanse of white snow. If in the previous days, the majestic snow-capped mountains and clouds still instilled a sense of awe in him, now he has completely become numb.

After obtaining the golden ball, Laba and another porter were very happy. The silent oil bottle told Laba that there might be many such golden balls at his destination, which made Laba think that this silent oil bottle seemed to be a child of a wealthy family. He had come alone to the depths of the snowy mountains, and if it was for such a reason, he could accept it.

“Did you come to this mountain for those golden balls too?” Laba asked him while walking. They had been traveling on the snowy slopes for the past few days, allowing them to walk more leisurely and have more opportunities to rest.

The silent oil bottle seemed to find it difficult to answer his question. After walking for half a day, he shook his head and said, “I suppose not.”

“This is related to a secret,” the silent oil bottle continued, walking slowly and talking about things that Laba could not understand.

A long time ago, the silent oil bottle’s family received a stone box engraved with dragon patterns from the Chinese emperor. This dragon-patterned box was excavated from the mountains by death row inmates, and its special feature was that the box had no seams; it was a whole piece, so the emperor could not open it and sought help from several elders in their family.

The silent oil bottle did not know how the box was opened; that process was very mysterious. Afterward, several elders of the family held a secret meeting overnight, and many things changed overnight as a result.

Laba listened in a daze, but he found it fascinating. He knew that the silent oil bottle would not tell him everything; he just thought of a story the lama had told him about a dragon, which also involved a legendary box.

“Opening that box was a mistake. Some things are better left unknown. Once you know, you will bear an irreversible fate,” the silent oil bottle murmured. “In this snowy mountain, there may be a way to connect with that box. We received the first half of this message but lost the second half, so I have to come here personally to try it out.”

“What about the others in your family?” Laba asked him.

The silent oil bottle looked faintly at the snowy mountains: “They are now in another place that is very similar to this one.”

Laba did not ask further. He felt that this silent oil bottle was merely trying to dissuade him from his thoughts. He did not know whether this information was true or false, and listening to it did not hold much significance. The silent oil bottle’s words did not resonate much with him; his mind was solely focused on those golden balls.

With those, his life would change completely. He felt it was worth a gamble; after all, if he were to lose, he had nothing much to lose.

On the twelfth day, nothing happened. As the sun set, Laba looked towards the sunny side and suddenly realized that he did not know exactly where he was supposed to go. The place with the golden balls could be anywhere in this snowy region.

The only clue was the huge lake in the snowy mountains. Laba comforted himself, thinking that although this area was vast and uninhabited, being the most mysterious no-man’s-land on the roof of the world, such a large lake could always be seen from afar, even if it was quite distant.

He and another porter sat there in a daze, thinking about the golden ball and how life would change after obtaining it. I don’t know how long they were lost in thought. I’ve been to the snowy mountains and know that there’s not much to do there; passing the time often relies on simply staring into space. I also don’t know how Laba discovered the shimmering light in the snowy expanse ahead, as that is actually a very difficult thing to notice.

In any case, before dusk had fully settled, Laba saw rhythmic flashes of light emerging from the snowy mountains ahead. It was a green light, flickering at a regular frequency. At first, he thought it was an illusion because the nearest place with people was at least a dozen days’ journey away, and he had never seen such green light before.

After glancing at it a few times, Laba turned to call for the silent oil bottle to take a look, only to find that the silent oil bottle had already seen it. When he turned back to look again, he realized that the flashing point was actually moving, seemingly coming towards them.

Laba felt a bit panicked; he didn’t know what it was—was it a beast? A large bird? Or some kind of monster? He stood up, wanting to find a place to hide. The silent oil bottle pulled him and the other porter behind a snowbank. The three of them buried themselves in the snow, watching the green light slowly flicker in and out of sight behind the mountain. But soon, it passed over several snow hills in front of them, coming even closer.

The green light moved with incredible speed, and they also heard a series of faint ringing sounds, the chimes echoing ethereally in the snowy landscape.

Before long, they saw what the green light was. It was a group of strange people dressed in Tibetan clothing, carrying a peculiar object. The head of this object glimmered with green light, while the rest of it was entirely made of wood, adorned with numerous bells.

Is there really someone living here? Laba found it hard to believe. He could clearly see that these people passed through the valley in front of them, heading deeper into the valley.

At this moment, Laba and the others were quite far from those people, and he couldn’t see much more. Laba even couldn’t be sure if those people were alive; perhaps they were ghosts of the snowy mountains?

But the silent oil bottle had already crawled up and signaled for Laba and the others to follow.

“If there are people living here, they would definitely be by the lake,” the silent oil bottle said. “If we follow them, we might just find the place we’re looking for.”