First Encounter in the Polar Region

To avoid a moose that suddenly dashed across the road, Gu Deng ended up driving into the snow. Luckily, he wasn’t hurt, but the engine had stalled.

In March, the Dalton Highway in Alaska was ravaged by snowstorms, with outdoor temperatures plummeting to minus 30 degrees. There was no signal, and only the radio could be used to communicate with nearby drivers. After Gu Deng sent out a distress signal, there was no response for over ten minutes.

Ice started forming on the car windows. Gu Deng exhaled a cold breath and pulled an outdoor down jacket from his backpack to put on.

Still no response.

Outside, the snow was swirling, and an Arctic storm was brewing.

Only now did Gu Deng have to admit that driving the Dalton Highway alone was indeed too risky. He often made impulsive decisions during his hypomanic episodes, only to regret them once he returned to normal.

Initially, he came to Alaska just to go whale watching, but the earliest tours wouldn’t start until April. He had arrived half a month too early, so he decided to drive to the Arctic.

The car rental company had advised him against going alone, warning that the Dalton Highway was treacherous and one of the most dangerous roads in the world. Unfortunately, Gu Deng didn’t care. He was brimming with confidence and eager for adventure, convinced he could do anything—a typical sign of early hypomania.

He should have been cautious, contacted his doctor and trusted friends, handed over the car keys, and refrained from making any major decisions.

But Gu Deng tore up his mania prevention contract, went to an outdoor store to buy extreme cold gear, filled up two tanks of gas, packed three days’ worth of food from the supermarket, and excitedly drove onto the so-called “death road.”

He was tired of the emotional rollercoaster and weary of constantly managing his emotions. He wanted the freedom to cry and laugh without having to take time out to write that damn emotion diary every time his mood shifted!

As he drove north along the Dalton Highway, listening to his travel playlist and watching the increasingly desolate wilderness, Gu Deng felt an unprecedented sense of happiness and freedom.

This happiness only lasted two hours before his car broke down in the middle of nowhere.

There was still no response on the radio channel, and Gu Deng was tired of repeatedly describing his accident. More importantly, he suddenly couldn’t remember if there had actually been a moose crossing the road.

But if there was no moose, how did he end up in this situation? And if there was a moose, why couldn’t he find any tracks?

Gu Deng took a lamotrigine pill, hoping to calm down. But the medication didn’t seem to work because he decided to get out of the car to look for moose tracks.

He walked alone in the snow, the heavy snowfall blurring the road and the wilderness, with only two narrow road markers guiding the way, like a scene from the apocalypse.

Looking at this scene, Gu Deng suddenly felt a strange sense of emotion and tranquility. He thought, dying here wouldn’t be so bad.

But things didn’t go as he wished. Suddenly, a rumbling sound came from ahead, yellow light pierced through the snowstorm, and a modified Ford Raptor slowly approached. The window rolled down, revealing the tall figure of the driver.

“Did you send out the distress signal?”

An incredibly handsome Asian guy, with no accent in his English, making it hard for Gu Deng to determine his nationality.

“Yes, it was me,” Gu Deng had to look up to speak because the pickup was so high. “My car broke down. Can I hitch a ride?”

“Where are you headed?”

“Dead Horse Town.”

“I’m only going as far as Coldfoot.”

“That’s fine too.”

The man opened the car door, and Gu Deng thanked him and asked if he could go back to get his luggage. The man didn’t say anything but got out of the car to go with him.

Gu Deng didn’t have much luggage, but there were two tanks of gas in the trunk. The gas tanks were too heavy for Gu Deng to lift at once, and just as he was about to try again, a large hand reached over to grab the handle. The man lifted one tank with one hand and looked down to ask, “Is there anything else?”

“No, that’s it,” Gu Deng replied.

The man turned and walked back, moving effortlessly through the snow with his enviable muscles, carrying the two tanks as if it were a walk in the park.

Gu Deng followed him with his suitcase, saying, “Thank you so much for your help. My name is Gu Deng. May I ask your name?”

“Zhang Li.”

“Chinese?”

“Yes.”

“Ah…!” Gu Deng switched to Chinese happily, but then immediately felt a bit down, “You don’t know me, do you?”

“I do,” Zhang Li replied in Chinese.

“You scared me,” Gu Deng finally smiled, “I was a bit sad just now.”

Zhang Li: “Sorry.”

“I’m just kidding,” Gu Deng shook his head, speaking sincerely, “Actually, I should be the one apologizing. I’m lucky to have met you; otherwise, I wouldn’t know what to do.”

Zhang Li shook his head, seemingly accustomed to the gratitude of strangers. He put the gas tanks in the pickup’s cargo bed, and Gu Deng placed his luggage in the front passenger seat.

Looking at the vast snowstorm ahead, Gu Deng suddenly asked, “Did you see the moose tracks?”

“What tracks?”

“I had an accident because I hit a moose, but now I can’t find any tracks.”

Zhang Li looked ahead, seeing only two crooked tire tracks. He said, “Maybe the snow covered them.”

“Oh.” Gu Deng seemed convinced by this explanation and breathed a sigh of relief.

The two of them drove on, the car’s heater providing ample warmth. Gu Deng felt a bit hot and took off his down jacket, placing it on his lap. Zhang Li remained silent, not speaking again after their initial brief exchange.

Gu Deng couldn’t hold back and asked, “Can we listen to some music?”

Zhang Li nodded, so Gu Deng connected his Bluetooth, and light music filled the cabin. He swayed to the music, looking quite happy.

After a while, Gu Deng asked again, “I’m a bit hungry. Can I eat something in the car?”

After getting permission, Gu Deng reached into the back seat to open his backpack, took out two sandwiches, unwrapped one, and offered it. “Do you want one?”

Zhang Li declined, so Gu Deng ate it himself, holding the bread with both hands, barely making a sound as he chewed. After finishing the sandwich, Gu Deng put the trash back in his bag and took out a palm-sized notebook to start writing.

At this moment, Gu Deng suddenly became very quiet. This quietness had an exclusivity to it, as he completely immersed himself in his own world.

It wasn’t until Zhang Li stopped the car and called his name that Gu Deng snapped out of his world, looking up in confusion, “What’s up?”

Zhang Li said there was a vehicle ahead that had skidded, and he needed to go check it out. Gu Deng glanced at the GPS and realized they had already reached Finger Mountain. They were almost at the Arctic, but this was a long uphill section. Due to the isolated mountain body, strong crosswinds prevailed in winter, and with snowdrifts covering the road, accidents were prone to happen.

The vehicle ahead was stuck in the snow, but it seemed like the tracks were only slightly off, with no signs of flipping.

Zhang Li communicated briefly with the driver, connected the winch, and began towing the stranded vehicle. He seemed very familiar with such situations, handling the entire process skillfully and effortlessly.

The vehicle was successfully freed, and the driver got out to thank them one by one, even insisting on giving Zhang Li a deer antler as a token of gratitude. Zhang Li politely declined several times.

Gu Deng was enjoying the lively scene, not expecting a woman to come over to him.

She was holding something in her arms, and Gu Deng firmly said he didn’t need it. But when the woman lifted her hat, a pair of big, blinking eyes were revealed.

Gu Deng was stunned, and the woman smiled, saying, “The baby wants to thank you personally.”

“Huh?” Gu Deng was confused, “How?”

“Brother, hand.” The little one had just learned to speak and was not very articulate.

Gu Deng, a bit bewildered, extended his hand, and the little girl waved her arm, placing two candies in his palm.

This experience was somewhat novel. Gu Deng pinched the little one’s glove, smiled, and said thank you.

But the little one got anxious. Brother’s hand was so big, and she had given too few candies!

So she reached into her pocket and started rummaging, grabbing randomly with her gloved hand. Not only did she fail to grab more candies, but she also dropped all the candies into the snow. The child got even more anxious, struggling to get down and pick them up, and her mother almost didn’t catch her.

Gu Deng couldn’t let the child actually touch the ground; the wind was so strong outside, and the child was so small, she might just get blown away. Gu Deng got out of the car, picked up the candies, and politely escorted the mother and daughter back.

The father, having faced rejection from Zhang Li, returned with a regretful expression, carrying the deer antler. Seeing Gu Deng, his eyes lit up, and he ran towards him with the antler, scaring Gu Deng into running away.

“Scared me to death, almost didn’t escape,” Gu Deng said as he sat back in the passenger seat, a bit curious, “But is that a real deer antler?”

Zhang Li said it was.

“Oh.” Gu Deng responded, suddenly becoming a bit quiet.

The accident vehicle got back on the road, and Zhang Li drove slowly behind them until the family successfully crossed Finger Mountain, then overtook them and continued forward.

The snow cleared, and the sun once again illuminated the polar coniferous forest. A moose suddenly appeared in the tranquil forest. It raised its head to eat the branches and leaves, huge, gentle, and quiet, like a scene that only appears in dreams. Gu Deng’s gaze followed it until the moose completely disappeared from sight.

Gu Deng: “Did you see that moose?”

“No.”

“Sorry, I should have called you sooner.”

“It’s okay.”

“I’ll let you know next time I see one.”

“Okay.”

The pickup truck continued north along the pipeline, and Gu Deng unwrapped a candy and put it in his mouth, tasting the sweet and sour grape flavor.

He unwrapped another one for Zhang Li, but the latter didn’t take it.

“Go ahead,” Gu Deng said, “It’s a thank-you gift from the little one.”

Zhang Li then took the candy and ate it. Despite his somewhat stern appearance and his tall, muscular build giving off an intimidating vibe, his cheeks puffed up a bit from the candy, making him look inexplicably silly.

After crossing Finger Mountain, it was another 20 kilometers to the Arctic Circle. Gu Deng got out to take a photo, but to be honest, he found the spot quite ordinary. Besides a sign that said “Arctic Circle,” there wasn’t much special about the scenery.

He actually preferred the spot where they stopped later. By then, the sun was almost setting, and the sky was filled with a large patch of pink and purple clouds. Zhang Li suddenly stopped the car and got out with his camera. The trees here were shorter than before, sparsely growing in the snow, turning the land into a fluffy little creature.

Zhang Li walked towards the forest, and Gu Deng followed him out of the car, cautiously approaching until he saw the little creatures Zhang Li wanted to photograph. They were tiny chickadees, almost palm-sized, with fluffy feathers and black caps, hopping around the forest, occasionally chirping.

Cute little things, Gu Deng was captivated by them, but Zhang Li put down his camera and walked back, not leaving a single photo.

“Why didn’t you take any pictures?” Gu Deng was puzzled.

“I made a mistake.”

“What?”

Zhang Li zoomed in with his camera, letting Gu Deng look through the viewfinder: “See the tops of these chickadees? They’re black.”

Gu Deng: “Yeah, I see.”

Zhang Li continued, “I’m looking for a bird that looks very similar to them, called the Siberian tit. I mixed up their calls just now.”

“Oh, I see,” Gu Deng nodded, then asked, “But why are you looking for that bird?”

Zhang Li put away his camera and explained, “The Siberian tit rarely appears in Alaska. I’m helping a local university’s bird lab collect data.”

“Sounds interesting,” Gu Deng’s eyes lit up, “So you’re an ornithologist? Your job is to study birds in the wild?”

“No,” Zhang Li said, “I’m a wildlife photographer.”

The sky was blue, the snow powder illuminated by the sunset, sparkling like diamonds. Shadows moved in the snow, as black-capped chickadees hopped between branches.

Gu Deng looked hopeful: “Isn’t it a happy job?”

Zhang Li: “It’s okay.”

Gu Deng: “Can I record their sounds? Just ten minutes.”

Zhang Li said it was fine.

Gu Deng quickly ran back to the car to get his equipment, bringing a microphone, recorder, and monitoring headphones, even putting a sweater over the microphone. He had wanted to record some ambient sounds for a while but felt too shy to ask while riding in someone else’s car.

Gu Deng carefully approached, pointing the microphone at the chickadees, and the crisp bird calls came through the headphones.

He said it would be ten minutes, and he didn’t go over time. By the 9th minute, Gu Deng took off his headphones and returned to the car. From the expression on his face, he seemed to have recorded something he was very pleased with.

They arrived at Coldfoot Town at nightfall, the only small town on the Dalton Highway. Most people would stop here for supplies and rest for a night before heading to Dead Horse Town.

Zhang Li parked the car, and Gu Deng was still looking at his phone, wearing headphones, completely unaware of the changes around him.

“Bzzz—”

The phone buzzed, and Zhang Li got out to answer the call.

“Where are you?” Smith’s voice came through.

“In the parking lot.”

“Okay, I’ll come find you,” the man added, “Let’s have dinner together.”

“We’ll see.”

“Let me come get the stuff first.”

Zhang Li hung up the phone and saw that Gu Deng had already taken off his headphones, looking around the surroundings in a daze. Zhang Li got back into the car.

Gu Deng asked, “Are we at Coldfoot Town?”

“Yeah,” Zhang Li pointed, “The inn is over there.”

“Thanks a lot.” Gu Deng unbuckled his seatbelt and went around to the back seat to get his luggage.

It was completely dark, with faint green auroras flickering overhead. A row of heavy trucks was parked around, like a gathering of Autobots.

Gu Deng put on his backpack, and Zhang Li helped him with his suitcase and the two gas tanks.

Gu Deng picked up the suitcase handle and said, “You keep the gas, consider it the fuel cost for the trip.”

Zhang Li: “No need.”

Gu Deng started rummaging through his wallet: “Then I’ll give you cash.”

Zhang Li: “That’s not what I meant.”

“Then just take the gas,” Gu Deng said, “If you don’t take it, I won’t know how to deal with it.”

Zhang Li was silent for a few seconds before agreeing.

Gu Deng waved: “I’m off then.”

Zhang Li: “Goodbye.”

Gu Deng said goodbye but didn’t leave. He pointed to the inn behind him and asked, “Are you staying here tonight too?”

Zhang Li: “I’m staying at a friend’s place.”

“Oh,” Gu Deng seemed a bit disappointed, “Then we probably won’t see each other again.”

This was a hard conversation to follow up on, so Zhang Li didn’t respond.

Meanwhile, Smith came over to get the equipment from him. Zhang Li handed it over, then turned to find Gu Deng still there.

He was wearing a stylish hard-shell jacket, with retro monitoring headphones on his head. The contrast between the black coat and his extremely fair skin made him look transparent and pure.

“Zhang, want to grab dinner?” Smith’s voice called out.

But Zhang Li walked straight over to Gu Deng, standing in front of him and asking, “Do you still need something?”

Gu Deng motioned for him to lower his head: “Lower your head a bit.”

Zhang Li bent down, and Gu Deng placed the headphones on his head.

The noise-canceling headphones instantly blocked out all external noise, and Zhang Li looked up in confusion—close your eyes. He saw Gu Deng mouthing the words, then pressed play.

Under the Alaskan night sky, the cold wind howled past. Zhang Li closed his eyes, quietly listening to the two-minute piece. It was a gentle piano piece, with a faint emotion, conveying loneliness but also a subtle sense of emotion.

When the music ended, Zhang Li slowly opened his eyes.

He had deep-set eyes, a high nose bridge, and a face with high contours. Combined with his reticence, it gave him a fierce and aloof impression. But when he lowered his head to remove the headphones, his gaze softened.

“Did you write this on the road?” He recognized the bird calls and the sound of falling snow in it.

“Yeah,” Gu Deng asked, “Do you like it?”

“I do.”

“Then it’s yours.”

Zhang Li was taken aback: “Mine?”

“Yeah,” Gu Deng said, “I’ll send you the audio file. You can use it however you want.”

Regardless of Gu Deng’s status, even for an ordinary composer, it would be rare to casually give away something so precious.

They had the same model of phone, and Gu Deng airdropped the file to Zhang Li, who still hadn’t reacted.

Gu Deng waved and said, “Goodbye.”

Zhang Li finally looked up, calling out to Gu Deng, with something different in his eyes: “Why give this to me?”

“To thank you, but also to bribe you,” Gu Deng winked at Zhang Li, smiling, “Please keep my whereabouts a secret.”