Chapter 23: Mist-Shrouded Thunder

　　Night fell, and a bitter wind made the tent flap violently. I opened the door flap and saw a fissure in a nearby snow-capped mountain, perfectly aligned with the Milky Way, as if a torrent of stars were erupting from the mountain itself.　　“Long time no see!” I raised my right hand, greeting the galaxy stretching across the sky. The stars remained silent, scattering their brilliance, sending light that had traveled billions of years across time and space.　　I yawned and casually sealed the tent door. Outside, the two mules paced slowly, their heavy, deliberate steps a comforting sound…　　The night deepened. I slept fitfully, then suddenly felt the ground tremble, a sound like a mountainside collapsing reverberating through the air.　　The mountains, the valleys—all drowned in a deafening roar. A vast, thundering din seemed to cleanse the world of mortal dust. I opened my eyes wide, straining to listen. It was as if a hundred thousand ancient behemoths, wielding immense, primordial power, were racing across the world.　　Heaven and earth shook. I should have rushed out of the tent to observe, to guard against disaster, but a heavy weight pressed down on me. My mind was alert, yet my body remained asleep, completely paralyzed.　　“A ghost holding me down?” My heart leapt with a superstitious chill, but I quickly rationalized—it must be the stress, combined with an awkward sleeping position, that triggered sleep paralysis. I’d experienced this a few times as a kid; you just had to wait it out.　　Sure enough, sci