Otaku Translation: Honey Badger's Streaming Life C152

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Chapter 152: The Devil’s Lake of Radiant Shadows

At longitude 86.5° east and latitude 34° north, there lies a barren desert plain stretching nearly a hundred kilometers in every direction.

To the west of this wasteland, an imposing snow-capped mountain towers over the landscape, its peak piercing the clouds as it surveys the vast expanse below.

Snowmelt from the mountain flows down two rivers that skirt the edges of the desert, leaving it untouched by their life-giving waters.

The sun ambled lazily across the sky, basking the plateau in its golden glow, admiring the rugged beauty of the highlands. Suddenly, it seemed to take notice of something—or someone—below, intensifying its rays until they became searing hot.

In the center of the desert, the shadow cast by the distant mountain shifted, revealing two figures now exposed to the unforgiving sunlight.

“Tch!”

A bald man in a khaki jacket straightened up, spat on the ground, and wiped his sweaty forehead with the back of his hand, leaving behind a streak of dirt. “Damn it all,” he muttered, “this sun is making me anxious.”

In front of him, another middle-aged man with darker skin was digging a hole in the ground with a shovel. Hearing the bald man’s complaints, he stopped briefly to respond: “Enough talk! Keep digging! We have to finish setting up this trap before nightfall.”

“Pfft! Once I’m done with this job and make some cash, I’m heading straight for the beach to chase women—and never coming back to this godforsaken place!” The bald man spat again, then grabbed the handle of his shovel and resumed digging.

Behind them, about thirty meters away, stood a shallow pit three meters square, covered with camouflage tarp stretched over a makeshift shelter just over a meter high. Inside the pit sat a modified, reinforced pickup truck, ready to serve whatever purpose these men had in mind.

Wang Ping’s greatest concern wasn’t just the safety of his teammates—it was also the possibility that someone might beat them to their goal and steal the golden eagle before they arrived. Of course, capturing a golden eagle—especially the king of eagles—was no easy feat. Any creature worthy of being called “king” possessed both formidable strength and cunning intelligence; ordinary traps wouldn’t suffice.

Meanwhile, the Jeep roared across the plateau, music blasting through its speakers as Gu Lang hummed along, seemingly carefree. That is, if you ignored the wad of tissue stuffed in his nostrils and the red handprint still visible on his face—a sight that elicited more sympathy than envy from his livestream audience.

Wang Ping, freshly cleaned by the lakeside and wearing a navy hoodie with a small hood, lounged in the passenger seat, munching on a strip of spicy gluten while staring out the window. Not long after leaving Tso Ngön Lake, the vehicle merged onto Provincial Road 301, which curved northwestward, allowing them to pick up speed significantly.

They passed several smaller lakes along the way, but neither Gu Lang nor Wang Ping showed any interest in stopping to admire the scenery. Gu Lang’s route was straightforward: head west. If there was a road leading in the right direction, they’d follow it; otherwise, they’d veer off-road into the wilderness.

Though technically traversing the Changtang Plateau, they hadn’t yet entered the true no-man’s-land. Occasionally, they spotted colorful prayer flags fluttering in the wind. Neither Gu Lang nor Wang Ping understood much about Tibetan culture, so they remained puzzled as to why such sacred banners were placed in such desolate areas.

By noon, after driving for over two hours and covering nearly 200 kilometers, they reached a fork in the road. One path led north, the other south, while directly ahead loomed a massive lake spanning more than 50 kilometers.

The Jeep came to a halt at the intersection, and Gu Lang’s face twisted with indecision.

“Boss, should we go south or north?” he asked, glancing at Wang Ping in the passenger seat.

Wang Ping: …Why does Gu Lang always encounter these binary-choice dilemmas once we’re on the plateau?

Climbing onto the dashboard, the honey badger propped his paws against the windshield, gazing at the shimmering expanse of water ahead.

Selincuo Lake—the largest saltwater lake on the Qinghai-Tibet Plateau, known in Tibetan as “The Devil’s Lake of Radiant Shadows.”

What made Selincuo particularly fascinating was that despite already being the largest lake on the plateau, its size continued to grow each year. To the north, melting glaciers at the southwestern foot of Mount Jiagang fed the Za'Gya Zangbo River, which poured into Selincuo, causing its water levels to rise steadily. As a result, the lake devoured neighboring bodies of water one by one, earning its ominous nickname.

Simply put, this was a lake that thrived by consuming others.

“Grrr…” Wang Ping’s stomach growled, chiming in as if to remind everyone of its presence. It seemed to suggest: Forget deciding whether to go left or right—how about we stop for lunch first?

“You glutton,” Wang Ping thought disdainfully.

Just then, Gu Lang rolled down the car window, apparently drawn by something outside.

Wang Ping turned to see a herd of yaks ambling leisurely toward the north. Leading the group was a massive bull nearly as tall as Gu Lang himself, its horns adorned with long tufts of golden fur hanging down its forehead, giving it a somewhat comical appearance.

Stretching his neck for a better look, Wang Ping didn’t spot any herders nearby. Clearly, this was a wild yak herd. Just as he prepared to tell Gu Lang to drive away, the man stuck his arm out the window and waved enthusiastically.

“Hey there! How’s it going?”

“Holy crap!” Wang Ping’s fur bristled as he swiped angrily at Gu Lang with a paw. “Don’t greet them!”

But it was too late. The lead yak had already noticed Gu Lang inside the Jeep.

Anyone traveling through Tibet knows one cardinal rule: Never provoke a yak. Wild yaks are notoriously aggressive, and once angered, they charge with tenfold ferocity. Flipping cars is practically routine for them.

Now, Gu Lang watched in horror as the largest yak lowered its head, horns aimed directly at the Jeep, and charged forward. Behind it, the rest of the herd stirred, turning their attention to the commotion.

“Oh no…” Gu Lang frantically shifted gears and floored the accelerator, sending the Jeep screeching to the left. The sudden motion sent Wang Ping tumbling off the dashboard, landing unceremoniously in Gu Lang’s lap.

“Hmm… interesting,” Gu Lang thought absently, even amid the chaos. This was probably the first time the usually prickly honey badger had voluntarily “thrown itself” into his arms.

Klang!

The rear bumper detached from the Jeep with a loud clang, causing the vehicle to shake violently. Wang Ping, who had just managed to climb off Gu Lang’s lap, was thrown onto the driver’s side door.

“Whoa… that was intense…” Glancing at the rearview mirror, Gu Lang saw the bumper spinning away behind them. Meanwhile, the enraged yak showed no signs of relenting, charging after the fleeing Jeep. Behind it, the entire herd thundered forward, hooves pounding like rolling thunder.

Back in the livestream chat, viewers who had been marveling at the sight of such a massive lake moments ago were now utterly bewildered by the sudden turn of events.

“What’s happening?”

“The streamer looks really panicked!”

“What’s going on?”

“Holy shit, what just hit the car?”

“Did they run into a bear?”

“Why are they running? Let Boss get out and beat it up!”

“Adjust the camera so we can see too!”

Wang Ping finally managed to scramble past Gu Lang’s jittery legs and leap back into the passenger seat. Spotting the barrage of comments flooding the livestream chat, he considered grabbing the tablet from the dashboard to show everyone what was happening.

But just as he picked up the device, he froze. “No, wait… given my current identity, I shouldn’t know how to read…”

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