Ian Lawson kept going up and down the mountain, endlessly wandering between altitudes of over 3,000 meters and just a few hundred meters. The Yarlung Tsangpo River twisted and turned, Ian Lawson circled around one mountain spur after another, and crossed yet another mountain pass over 3,000 meters high—Guobula. Following a mountain ravine down, constantly wading from the left bank to the right and back again, Ian Lawson had to roll up his pants and walk barefoot in the rushing stream. The water was deep, reaching above his knees, icy cold and piercing, and Ian Lawson would occasionally slip on the large rocks by the shore.

The water in the Grand Canyon was even more varied and marvelous. Ian Lawson saw water in all its forms and scales: solid, liquid, gas, snowflakes, streams, and mighty rivers—from ancient glaciers to boiling hot springs, from trickling brooks and cascading waterfalls to the surging river. The mountains in the canyon were all beautiful, ranging from low hills covered in tropical monsoon rainforest to snow-capped peaks soaring into the clouds. The vast sea of forest and the majestic snow peaks reaching the sky felt like a masterpiece of nature, and the breathtaking scenery of the canyon left Ian Lawson with memories for a lifetime! Moreover, Ian Lawson was rather lucky, not encountering the frequent natural threats in the canyon such as landslides, mudslides, wild beasts, venomous snakes, or poisonous bees.

In the forest, there was no sense of day or night; Ian Lawson had no idea how many days had passed. The food he carried was gradually running out, and the thought of building a raft to float down the river began to surface in Ian Lawson's mind. Yet he was reluctant to leave behind such rare beauty—who knew if he would ever have the chance to come here again in this lifetime? To give up just like that seemed too much of a pity.

Night fell, and after being tormented by this idea all day, Ian Lawson was utterly exhausted.

"Let's stop here for today," Ian Lawson halted, tidied up the ground a bit, set up a simple snake barrier, and crawled into his sleeping bag. "Maybe, when the sun rises tomorrow, I'll have made a decision."

At dawn, the chirping of insects and birds woke Ian Lawson. He unzipped his sleeping bag and crawled out.

Fortunately, only three of the area's infamous giant leeches had gotten into the sleeping bag, so the loss wasn't too bad. Lighting a cigarette in the morning dew, Ian Lawson carefully burned off the leeches with the tip, then, cigarette dangling from his lips, lazily packed up the sleeping bag.

A flash of golden light slithered through the grass, startling Ian Lawson.

"A snake?" Ian Lawson felt a chill down his spine. After a moment's pause, Ian Lawson slowly reached for his knife and gently wrapped his hand in clothing.

For a while, the golden light did not reappear. Ian Lawson waited and waited, eventually losing patience.

"Whew." He shook out the folded sleeping bag and swung it toward the patch of grass, the blades swaying in the breeze.

No movement.

Ian Lawson let out a long breath, waited a few more minutes, and slowly began to roll up the sleeping bag.

There were many unusual species of snakes here, including some originally from India. They were the greatest enemy of trekkers. Although Ian Lawson was adventurous by nature, he was also cautious and prudent. He listened intently for a long time before silently standing up.

The golden flash appeared again, then vanished.

Luckily, Ian Lawson had stood up slowly. He crouched down, returning to the angle where he had seen the golden light—sure enough, golden spots flickered in the grass.

Gently picking up his trekking pole, Ian Lawson waved it repeatedly over the grass, hoping to drive away the golden light. Unexpectedly, the golden light remained unchanged.

"Not a snake," Ian Lawson breathed a sigh of relief. Using the trekking pole to part the grass, he saw a small blue-gold glint in the soil, flickering in and out of sight.

"What is that?" Ian Lawson was curious and took out his entrenching shovel to dig around the golden light.

As the soil was gradually removed, the shape of the golden object emerged—it seemed to be a metal staff. The golden light Ian Lawson had seen earlier was the tip of the staff exposed above the ground.

Digging further, a set of bones appeared beside the metal staff. Expanding the excavation area, after two hours, the work was done and everything was revealed.

Digging in the grass was no easy task. The roots were tangled together—too little force did nothing, too much risked damaging the find. Ian Lawson had to exert all his strength to finish the excavation. Tossing aside the shovel, he sat on the ground, smoking and examining everything before him.

Ian Lawson had used an archaeological-style excavation method to avoid damaging the items, so he had to widen the dig. Every object in the pit remained in its original position, not moved at all during the process. The metal staff was clutched in the skeleton's hand, looking much like a typical Tibetan vajra pestle—making the skeleton appear to be a pilgrim who had died on the way.

Beside the bones was a mark resembling a satchel, with some charred leather remaining in the pit, indicating the satchel was likely made of leather. In the spot where the satchel had been, there was a package, with traces showing it had once been wrapped in several layers of oiled paper. A corner of the oiled paper revealed a flat metal box inside, so thin it seemed it couldn't hold much, and the type of metal was unclear.

The skeleton was tall, about 1.9 meters. It lay flat, unlike ordinary Tibetans who would kneel before death. Around the neck was a metal necklace, the pendant hanging down into the chest cavity, its shape hidden from view.