Big Langston grabbed his hand and shook it vigorously up and down: “No, when Samuel Sheppard called me, he asked me to help arrange a car, and I said, how could that do? Brother Sheppard and I are sworn brothers—his friends are my friends! What’s that saying again, ‘A friend comes from afar’—I had to come pick you up myself!”

Logan Sullivan widened his eyes in feigned surprise: “Really? You and Brother Sam Sheppard are that close?”

Brother Langston said, “Of course! We became sworn brothers after drinking too much once.”

Logan Sullivan pointed at him and put on a stern face: “Now that’s not right. What’s the difference between Brother Sam Sheppard’s sworn brothers and my own? What did you just call me, old brother? That’s treating me like an outsider, isn’t it?”

Brother Langston was quick on the uptake—he froze for just a second, then immediately went along with it, laughing heartily: “Pah, you’re right! Look at me running my mouth—this is great! In the future, I’ll tell everyone the leader from Longcheng is my brother, how impressive is that! Come on, let’s get you settled in first, then I’ll throw you a welcome banquet! Don’t be polite with your old brother—being polite means you look down on me!”

The two of them bantered back and forth, barely giving anyone else a chance to speak.

The students with William Sherman looked at each other in confusion.

Holly Harlow, following along, whispered to Darrin Grant on her phone, “Well, now I get how Director Sutton ended up as his brother-in-law.”

Chapter 28: The Mountain and River Awl …

William Sherman and his group were inexplicably dragged along by Logan Sullivan, treated to a lavish feast by Brother Langston, and then put up in the only five-star hotel in town.

Early the next morning, before dawn, three SUVs lined up neatly at the hotel entrance. When the trunks were opened, they were packed with cold-weather clothing, outdoor gear, high-calorie food, medical supplies, and tools—all brand new, still in their packaging, enough to outfit a professional scientific expedition.

Logan Sullivan looked completely at ease, not the least bit embarrassed to accept all this. He had Julian West hand out a pack of Zhonghua cigarettes to each driver, then chatted warmly with Brother Langston, who had come to see them off.

Brother Langston was full of enthusiasm. Even though he’d been knocked out the night before by a jin and a half of baijiu courtesy of Logan Sullivan, he seemed to have enjoyed it, and was still energetic in the morning—except his face was a bit swollen, almost like a pig’s head.

He stretched out his bear paw and slapped Logan Sullivan on the shoulder, reluctantly saying, “Good brother, you’re leaving already. I didn’t host you well enough, didn’t make sure you ate and drank well. We’re just a small place, I hope you understand, don’t hold it against me.”

Logan Sullivan glared at him: “See, there you go again, treating me like an outsider! We came all this way to bother you, and we haven’t even been polite about it, but you’re the one getting worked up. Brother Langston, if you ever come to Longcheng, I’ll sell my pots and pans if I have to, even get stuck in traffic on the Second Ring all night, just to accompany you the whole time. When that happens, we’ll call Brother Sam Sheppard and the three of us will have a proper drink together.”

After saying their goodbyes to Brother Langston, Logan Sullivan turned and quietly asked William Sherman, “The mountain roads are tough, and the kids aren’t great drivers. I’m not comfortable letting them go alone. How about this: you bring them along with us. I’ll drive one car, Julian West will drive one, and Holly Harlow will drive one. We’ll split the students up, and regroup at Qingxi Village. Sound good?”

Even paid tour guides aren’t this attentive. If William Sherman objected in front of everyone, it would seem ungrateful.

But it felt wrong to accept so much without giving anything in return. William Sherman didn’t have Logan Sullivan’s thick skin, and even after getting in the car, he still felt uneasy: “I really didn’t think this through. I’ve troubled you too much, and we didn’t even know that Mr. Langston before, yet he spent so much on us. Should we send him something as thanks when we get back…”

Logan Sullivan waved it off grandly: “Don’t worry about it. No one does anyone a favor for nothing—it all goes on my tab. And with me, you don’t need to be polite at all.”

William Sherman: “……”

Just then, the light ahead turned red. Logan Sullivan hit the brakes, turned his head and smiled at him, revealing two dimples. William Sherman’s face instantly flushed, and he instinctively glanced at the two students in the back seat. Seeing that they were both excitedly looking out the window, he seemed to relax a little.

Suddenly, Logan Sullivan had a thought—maybe he could push things a little further. He reached over and tugged out the corner of William Sherman’s shirt collar, gently smoothing it. His bent index finger brushed lightly, almost absentmindedly, under William Sherman’s ear. His voice dropped naturally, and before William Sherman could react, he’d already withdrawn his hand.

“Your collar wasn’t straight.” He adjusted the rearview mirror, looked straight ahead, and said solemnly.

This time, even William Sherman’s ears turned red.

When the light turned green, Logan Sullivan stepped on the gas again, eyes fixed on the road, but the corners of his mouth curled up suspiciously.

William Sherman turned his head to look out the window, as if he were shy. But with his back to Logan Sullivan, the other man couldn’t see that the flush on William Sherman’s face slowly faded, leaving him pale.

He always seemed to be frowning, a deep crease forming between his brows. At times like this, his gentle, refined face took on an indescribable coldness, making him look both lonely and distant.

Driving up the mountain road was exhausting—bumpy and dizzying. After six or seven hours, the two students in the back seat were slumped over, fast asleep. William Sherman didn’t dare close his eyes, sitting in the passenger seat, sometimes keeping an eye on the driver—at the very least, making sure he didn’t get drowsy, especially since this driver had drunk so much the night before.

The further they went, the narrower the road became, with more and more turns. Less than a meter from the wheels was a cliff, with no guardrail at all—one careless move and they could go right over the edge.

Fortunately, the car Brother Langston provided was excellent, and although Logan Sullivan seemed a bit unreliable, his driving was surprisingly steady.

As they gradually entered the mountains, the temperature dropped lower and lower, so much so that even inside the car with the heater on, they could feel the chill.

Thick snow began to appear by the roadside. Further on, there were fewer and fewer signs of people, and the road was covered in ice and snow pushed aside by tire tracks.

At this point, the three cars, which had been following closely, all slowed down, and the distance between them grew.

Then Logan Sullivan slowly downshifted and carefully brought the car to a stop.

The cars behind also gradually stopped as he began to slow down.

“The road ahead looks tough. I think we need to put on chains,” Logan Sullivan said as he opened the car door, then told William Sherman, “It’s cold outside, don’t get out.”

William Sherman ignored him and jumped out to help. The wind deep in the mountains was so fierce it could knock a person over. The cold wasn’t the problem—it was the wind. In this kind of wind, even a thick down jacket would be no match, let alone the stylish fitted coat Logan Sullivan was wearing.

The two students in the car woke up and quickly got out to help, but Logan Sullivan coaxed and shooed them back inside: “Don’t get in the way, hurry up and get back in. Catching a cold here is no joke.”

The two of them quickly put chains on the tires, and soon their fingers were nearly frozen stiff. Logan Sullivan straightened up and looked into the distance. The mountains stretched on and on, and in the distance, massive glaciers and snow-capped peaks stood pure white, making the sky seem vast and the land boundless. The mountains and the clouds rising in the distance seemed to merge into the pale daylight.

After getting back in the car, Logan Sullivan called everyone in the other cars, reminding them of the safety precautions for driving on ice and snow, and especially emphasized: “We’re about to enter the glacier area. Once we’re in, don’t make loud noises, and definitely don’t honk the horn. If there’s an avalanche, there’s no one on duty during the day.”

The entire mountain area was covered in snow and ice. The sun was starting to set, the sky growing dim, and then darker still. The tire tracks became fewer, and a desolate chill slowly crept in.

The distant glaciers drew closer, their outlines growing more indistinct, with only a sharp tip reflecting a cold light from somewhere, flashing briefly before disappearing.

Logan Sullivan turned on the headlights. At some point, the idle chatter between him and William Sherman had stopped. William Sherman didn’t dare distract him anymore, and the car slowed to a crawl. The chained tires made for a subtly nerve-wracking ride. Looking out, there was a sheer drop of who knew how many thousand meters, all white, with only the occasional patch of mottled, gray-brown rock.

The snowy mountains loomed, lighting up the southern sky.

The two students in the back didn’t dare make a sound.

Night finally fell.

In the back seat, there was the girl in red—the class monitor—and a boy with little glasses. The boy whispered to William Sherman, “Professor, will we be able to get out of the mountains tonight? Will we find a place to stay?”

Before William Sherman could answer, Logan Sullivan cut in: “Don’t worry, Qingxi Village is right next to the snow mountains. Once we get through this stretch, we should be almost there. But…”