Chang Dong returned to the hotel first. Over the past two days, his mind had settled down—he wasn’t in a hurry to report to Ye Liuxi. After all, it was she who had traveled all the way to Xi’an to see three shadow puppet performances, carrying a magazine that featured his "scandal" and tucked away a strange photograph of Kong Yang. She must have something to ask of him, though she was deliberately playing it down. He didn’t want to be led by the nose; the funeral arrangements had already been settled two years ago—there was no need to rush. When he opened the door and entered the room, he noticed a small card for premium room service tucked under the doorframe. He bent down, picked it up, and tossed it into the trash can. It was still early for bedtime. Chang Dong opened his puppet case and took out a piece of finely polished cowhide to begin carving his shadow figures. The tools were spread out across the table, with just the variety of chisels alone requiring circular, semi-circular, plum blossom, human-joined, and star-patterned shapes. The technique of pushing the chisel across the surface of the leather felt like it was still echoing in my ears—“willow-leaf brows, apricot-like eyes, a cherry-sized mouth, gradually forming…” It is said that shadow puppetry originated in the Han Dynasty. When Emperor Wu of Han missed his beloved concubine, Lady Li, a master of divination set up an altar to summon her spirit. At night, lamps were lit and curtains drawn, so the emperor could only watch from within, seeing the shadow of Lady Li dancing gently upon the curtain, illuminated by the flickering candlelight. As the tradition spread to the common people, it evolved into shadow puppetry. Lady Li passed away, Emperor Wu passed away, the master of divination passed away—but the shadow puppets remained alive, thriving right up to today. Most things in this world—those that have form or those that are formless—outlive people. Thus, people truly feel powerless. As he kept carving, Changdong's fingers grew stiff from the cold. The evening temperature kept dropping, and even with the air conditioning set to maximum, it couldn't make a difference. He wrapped both hands around his mouth, blew out warm breath, then rubbed them briskly, before his eyes suddenly fell on the erotic card lying in the trash can. —Oh, she's so beautiful, isn't she? Just a girl who does the "chicken" thing, after all. Changdong bent down to pick up the card, paused a moment, then pulled out his phone and dialed the number written on it. The person answering sounded like a professional customer service representative, asking, "Mr. Chang, what kind of service would you prefer? Do you prefer someone slender or fuller-figured? More youthful and pure, or more sensual? We can filter options first, so you don’t have to go through just to find something you don’t like." Changdong thought for a moment. "Slender, perhaps—something pure. But maybe a bit more sensual as well." He wasn't sure what type of woman Ye Liuxi belonged to. She was like a pendulum, swinging left and right, always When she received the phone call, she was in the card game room next to the hotel, watching her sisters draw cards, and she grabbed her handbag and rushed off. In the elevator, she pulled out a small mirror to apply lipstick, press her lips, and touch up her powder. During the time from stepping into the elevator to reaching the entrance of Changdong, two buttons on her shirt were undone, revealing the soft pink, lace-edged edge of her bra. She also straightened her small skirt. Finally, she pressed the doorbell and offered a polished, professional smile. When the door opened, she paused. Changdong said, "Come in." Sunny stepped inside, her eyes drifting to the tea table in the living room, where a row of over a dozen chisels gleamed coldly—her heart skipped a beat, and she felt even more nervous. She was used to seeing guests who were broad-shouldered, balding, and breathless, and she never thought that encountering someone like Changdong would be a big win. Her mentors had always advised: "Wouldn't a young, handsome man be lacking in women?" You've got to stay alert—especially when someone's particularly eccentric: handsome, clean-cut, moody, ordering service but not eager to engage, with some unusual interests... Changhai checked off every one of these. And late at night, in the room, he wore a black baseball cap, half his face hidden in the shadow of the brim. Sunny swallowed hard. A few days ago, the boss had organized a screening of a Korean film about a man who systematically murders prostitutes, urging everyone to stay vigilant—after watching it, she'd had nightmares ever since, and had been feeling increasingly suspicious. She hesitated slightly: "Maybe... I should go take a shower first?" Changhai sat down on the sofa, brushing off the dust and flakes that had accumulated on the leather from the carving. "Overnight rate, for companionship?" Sunny thought quickly: "Same price, not bad value—since tonight you're here, I won't be able to take on any other clients." Chang Dong pulled out three one-hundred-yuan bills from his wallet, placed the teacup on top: "I've just arrived here. I'd like to open a shop, but I'm not very familiar with the local area, so I thought I'd chat with someone from the industry to get some insights." Ah, that makes sense. Sunny exhaled in relief, settling down on the sofa across from him: "Boss, I'm not saying this to be critical, but if you're aiming to open a shop like ours, you're not going to make it—there's simply no room for you." Chang Dong remained composed: "Go on, tell me why." After all, it wasn't any business secret—Sunny spoke without pause, flowing effortlessly, yet without any clear structure, drifting from thought to thought as she went along. —The kind of business we're doing here isn't operated independently; it's essentially consolidated by just two major players. Locals are reluctant to take the initiative, and the young women running the shops come from outside the town, grouped by region—north and south—each forming their own clusters, supported by powerful executives at the top. —There was initial tension between the Sunny is from the south. Take the hotel where Changdong stays—this week, the southern team is handling the advertising, but by next week, specifically tomorrow, the small-card ads will have to be completely refreshed. As she talks, she starts complaining again. "How tiring this work is! You can't imagine—we're always on call, working night shifts, our skin suffers because we're constantly up late, always wearing makeup. Look at my face—I'm only 22, but as soon as I take off my makeup, my skin turns pale and yellow. People always say I look like I'm in my thirties." Changdong gives a brief nod—he listens without much response, and Sunny has to keep talking, which is quite draining. She thinks hard, pulling out every relevant point: "Most of our commutes happen at night, and going back home after work can be quite risky. Last year, several of us were followed by strange individuals—some even said the man had a particularly pale, almost porcelain-like face." Changdong seems more engaged now: "A porcelain face?" "Sunny gestured, 'That's the one with a soft cloth draped over the face, revealing only the eyes and nose. At night, it's so intimidating—thankfully, nothing serious ever happened. Since then, we've had to pay for transportation; we hire cars to pick them up and drop them off, one way at ten yuan each.' Chang Dong asked, 'Do you know someone named Ye Liuxi?' Sunny looked puzzled. Her sisters all have English names—Mary, Amanda, Kelly—she'd never heard of Ye Liuxi. The name sounded like a real name. Who would use their actual name as a lady's title? If the news reached their hometown, wouldn't that be embarrassing? Chang Dong prompted her, 'During the day, she sells melons at the street corner.' Suddenly it clicked for Sunny, 'Ah, yes! I haven't spoken to her personally. She often hangs out with the ladies from the north—probably eats at their restaurants.' Is that right?" Sunny was quite perceptive: "All this talk—so you've actually been trying to find out about her. The one who'll be placing an ad here tomorrow is from that side. You can just ask them." By laying it all bare, Chang Dong found himself no longer eager to probe deeper into Ye Liuxi's background. As long as she could help him locate Kong Yang's remains, whether she was a vendor selling melons, a lady of the evening, or even a man or a woman—well, it didn't matter at all. She didn't recognize him at first. Chang Dong stood still, the sunlight warming one side of his face. Ye Liuxi squinted at him. Her eyelids were naturally slightly upturned, and as her eyes moved, they always seemed to carry countless scheming thoughts—yet her smile was so genuinely puzzling that nine out of ten people would find her harmless. Once she recognized him, a new nuance appeared in her smile, and she began by praising him: "You're not playing the old man, are you? That looks quite handsome, doesn't it?" As she spoke, she dragged a canvas folding chair from the car, brushed off the dust from its surface, and tossed it toward him. Chang Dong caught it single-handedly but didn't sit; instead, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the photo. Ye Liuxi gave a light scoff. "Such a swift transition to the main point! You didn't even offer a word of small talk—originally, I had planned to slice a piece of watermelon for you." As she spoke, she took the photo, held it between her fingers, and tilted her wrist so the front of the photo faced Chang Dong. "Don't you doubt that this photo is entirely Changdong replied, "Women have a keen intuition. I've been planning to ask Kong Yang to marry me, but I didn't tell her—yet she guessed it. She特意 bought a new outfit for this occasion." That evening, inside the tent at the camp, she wore the outfit for the first time and asked me how I thought it looked. Before I could offer my opinion, I heard the glass wine bottles outside rattling wildly. The wine bottles—glass bottles hung at regular intervals by tying a straight rope—were both decorative and functional: they measured wind speed. The way they were shaking so vigorously indicated a strong wind, not a gentle one. As soon as he opened the tent flap, he saw the distinctive "goose head" landmark on the geyser slope snapped off by the sandstorm, now swirling into a mist against the night sky. Kong Yang’s new red dress—her first and final mourning outfit—had never been photographed, yet it floated before him, caught in the wind that carried sand and dust across the Yardangs. Ye Liuxi was satisfied with this answer: "The second question—where in the photo is the Yadan?" The term 'Yadan' is actually a Uyghur word meaning "steep, rugged hillocks." This landform is widespread in the northwest, with some forming distinct, well-known clusters. For instance, Sanlongsha west of Dunhuang is known as the 'City of Devils'; Wuhu in the vicinity of Karamay is called the 'City of Winds'; and those near the Shule River are referred to as the 'City of Human Heads.' There are also less renowned ones—smaller or medium-sized formations that occasionally emerge unexpectedly along rural roads during off-road drives. These are also considered Yadan. So, where exactly is this Yadan? Chang Dong said: "It's the Long City." "How do you know?" Chang Dong pointed to the photo: "The terraces here have a higher salt and alkaline content, with a significant presence of gypsum mud. Compared to other Yadan formations, they appear grayer and whiter. During sunny daytime hours, they reflect a silvery sheen, resembling scales. Hence, ancient people referred to this area as the 'White Dragon Mounds.' Today, "Ye Liu Xi pressed on: 'Why can't this gray-white hue be frost from snowfall?' 'Snow falls in broad sheets, not like what's shown in the photograph; frost forms when water vapor condenses, typically at dawn or dusk. But here, it's noon, with such strong sunlight—frost would have melted long before.' Ye Liu Xi said, 'Ah...' His tone lingered, clearly satisfied. He then picked up a melon knife, sliced cleanly through a half-melon, and removed a thick slice. The golden honey-like flesh was juicy, with a fresh, crisp aroma. He offered the melon to Chang Dong: 'You brought me to Longcheng. I'll take you to where Kong Yang's body was found.' It wasn't a collaborative tone. Chang Dong glanced at it, but didn't take it. Ye Liu Xi smiled gently, his tone soft yet firm: 'Finding a guide into the Lop Nur region isn't difficult, but you won't find a second person who knows exactly where Kong Yang's body lies.' Chang Dong still didn't take it: 'What about the photograph? The Ge-Tou Shapo site is far from the Bai Long Dui. How did the body get there? And Yefu Xi grew impatient: "How could I possibly know? I've only helped you find her. You're just my guide—do what you like, or simply don't bother." As he spoke, he flipped his hand, and the melon tumbled straight down.