Chang Dong flipped through the pages one by one. It was clearly not written in a single day—it had accumulated over time, with different pens used, the handwriting sometimes hurried, sometimes neat. Some entries had been struck through or crossed out, as if she had initially doubted her reasoning. Indeed, Chang Dong now truly believed her. Yet even more astonishing was the fact: she had a puncture wound on her shoulder, documenting that there were scars on both sides, of similar size, not from bullets, but from steel bars piercing through. On her right lower leg, there was a burn mark, made by a specially shaped iron mold, which she had sketched with her pen—her drawing was crude and awkward, resembling a fierce, gruff face. She added a marginal note: "Which damn fool burned me? You'll see. You're dead on arrival." Chang Dong couldn't help but glance at her. She spoke calmly: "What kind of offense is this? A good beating is one thing, but to leave me with a scar—when he thinks I'll never wear shorts again, he's mistaken." "It's rare to see her acknowledge her shortcomings," she admitted, citing an early aesthetic flaw: the tattoo on her left wrist was particularly unattractive. That tattoo, Chang Dong had noticed right from their first meeting, resembled a snake at first glance—so much so that he initially thought it was a bracelet. Upon closer inspection, however, it wasn't a snake at all: it featured an eagle's claws, a flat, round head with a tuft of hair drifting from it, making it oddly peculiar. After reading through it, he felt utterly bewildered, conjuring up many absurd, contemporary novel-like scenarios in his mind—such as a reincarnation, a revival of ancient souls, with memories spanning two lifetimes. Yet, she herself systematically dismissed each of these possibilities. Chang Dong returned her small notebook, feeling a bit uneasy about continuing to hide this observation. He paused thoughtfully, "I mistakenly took you for Kong Yang. I was indeed momentarily disoriented—your resemblance to Kong Yang is quite evident." "All of them are slender with similar heights—there are many people with such a build in the world. Even if lovers can distinguish them, they need to pay close attention. And at that time, it was evening, and they were far away, seen only at a glance. Ye Liuxi waited for his next words. 'But seeing this figure, I wasn't really surprised.' —— After the sandstorm at Ge Tou Shapo, Changdong had promptly received search and rescue efforts. He had previously arranged for a driver to pick up Kong Yang. The driver lived at the mine site, about two hours' drive from Ge Tou. It was reported that the mine site was also affected that night, with the wind and sand roaring so fiercely it sounded like spirits weeping at night. The driver was deeply anxious. Early the next morning, he rushed urgently toward Ge Tou, but couldn't establish contact via satellite phone, which made him uneasy. On the way, he coordinated with rescue teams. When he arrived, what he saw instantly made him weak in the knees: Ge Tou was gone—the entire sand area had been almost flattened and buried. As he staggered forward, he suddenly felt his knees bump into something. He pulled it aside and found the luggage The entire vehicle was buried! In the first rescue attempt, Changdong wasn't found. In the second attempt, more personnel were added and the search area was expanded, and only then, at a sand dune two kilometers away from the original gehe head location, was he discovered. He was lying beneath a pile of sand, arms desperately reaching forward, unconscious. The search team considered this a miracle: such a powerful sandstorm, with a heavy vehicle being swept away, buried, and rolled over—so much so that the entire camp was completely buried. To find and rescue one person alive was truly remarkable. Even after he woke up, he was straightforward: "Brother, this life was truly granted by heaven. You're alive—your ancestors must have accumulated great merit." When investigators asked him in detail about his condition, especially what happened just before he lost consciousness, he said: "The wind bottles suddenly collided violently, the gehe head was crushed. At that moment, I was holding Kongyang, trying to run toward the vehicle..." The tent was too light; at that time, only the vehicle offered reliable support. But just after taking a few steps, he saw the sand dune surge with a massive wave, a vehicle flipping like a toy right in front of him, its rescuers' cries swallowed by the rushing sand—then, he lost all memory of what followed. Overcome with emotion, he spoke with hands constantly trembling. The investigators sighed, saying, "You're still emotionally unstable—please rest a while. We haven't given up on the search yet." In fact, they both knew it well: the desert, limited water, intense sun exposure, and extreme temperature fluctuations—within the first two days, if no one was found, it was effectively as if they'd never been found at all. That night, Chang Dong woke up in the middle of the night. The room was utterly quiet, the curtains half-drawn, the moon gently hanging in the sky. Suddenly, he remembered a scene. It had been deep into the night, after the sandstorm had subsided but before rescue teams arrived. He had struggled to open his eyes and saw several indistinct figures standing on the higher sand dune. A faint feeling came over him—those figures were his teammates, Kong Yang. He sensed they had died, that they were leaving. Chang Dong's lips trembled slightly as he reached out, weakly murmuring, "Kong Yang..." Kong Yang turned around. His eyelids felt as heavy as a thousand catties; the world before him began to blur, slowly closing, until it settled into a complete, silent black. — The sandstorm was approaching. Fragments of sand and gravel struck the vehicle with a crisp, cracking sound. Inside Chang Dong's empty tent, the wind rushed in, filling it like a plump kite, desperately trying to rise, yet held fast by the taut ropes anchored to the ground. Ye Liuxi asked him, "Didn't you tell the investigators about this?" "How could I? I myself can't even tell whether this was a dream or if I truly woke up at that moment." To go even further, it might be that at the very brink of life and death, close companions experience a kind of intuitive connection—Kong Yang, at that very moment, was saying goodbye to him. Chang Dong helped Ye Liuxsi pull the tent flap open. "Go to bed early," he said. He turned off the camp lights and lay down in the cramped single-person tent. The search team found no bodies of Kong Yang or his teammates, which at first gave him a surreal sense of hope: perhaps that night, they had truly risen up from the ground, shaken off the sand, and left together. But once he calmed down, he knew it was impossible—Kong Yang was so frail; in the desert, he simply could not have survived. Moreover, among the teammates, there was one who had recently become a father—why, if everyone were still alive, hadn’t he gone home? Before seeking refuge in Dingzhou, he once cycled deep into the desert, visiting some villages on the periphery that were gradually being abandoned, and asked the local residents, who had lived there for generations, about the legends of sandstorms. Did people who died in the desert truly vanish silently? He wasn’t sure what he was hoping for. Perhaps he was hoping that on some moonlit evening, the bicycle would stop, and he would see Kong Yang sitting on a distant dune, her eyes sorrowful, even though he could no longer reach her, even though she had become a mere slender ghost. Yet nothing of the sort ever happened. Those who went out on expeditions, those who herded camels, and those who occasionally hunted, always patiently described to him the terrifying nature of the Gobi Desert. For instance, after a sandstorm, you'd find dry corpses, long since dead and buried, blown up by the wind, their exact years of death unknown. Another remarkable feature was the mysterious magnetic field here—no matter how advanced the instruments, they would lose their effectiveness once they arrived. Once, near a village called "Yi Jia," an elderly woman washing clothes in brackish water suddenly, in a somewhat unclear manner, mentioned the Jade Gate Pass. —"My mother-in-law said," she said, "there used to be a huge city, the Jade Gate Pass, which was gradually blown away by the wind..." —"Yet, over so many years, from ancient times right up to now, the Jade Gate Pass has always remained alive." —"At night, when a strong sandstorm sweeps through, you must close the gate tightly and stay indoors. If you go out into the open, you may not even realize it—you'll simply end up walking into the very hole where the gate once stood." With that, the thin, mysterious old mouth moved silently open and closed: "Yu Man Guan—also known as Yin Guan..." ... The wind grew stronger, and Chang Dong slowly closed his eyes. It wasn't clear how long it had been before, amid the sharp wind, a distant gunshot could be faintly heard. —— Chang Dong quickly sat up, pulled open the tent flap, and stepped out. The wind was fierce, sand particles swirling in the air, occasionally brushing his cheeks, leaving sharp, fine stings. Standing in the wind's face, Chang Dong bent slightly and leaned to listen to the sounds carried by the wind. Ye Liuxi also stepped out: "Chang Dong?" He gestured for her to be quiet. Carefully listening, faint and intermittent cries could be heard, along with the metallic clatter of the vehicle being struck hard. Chang Dong felt a sudden jolt, turned, and whispered softly: "Pack up—now." Then he strode over to Fei Tang's tent, reached out, and grasped the diagonal support beams, lifting almost the entire tent and himself with him: "Get up—something's happened." Pausing for a few seconds, the zipper door swung open, and Fei Tang practically rolled out from inside. Suddenly awakened in the middle of the night, compounded by the tone he heard, his fear intensified: "Dong, what's going on?" "It might be a robbery—move quickly and efficiently," Chang Dong said. Fei Tang's heart pounded in his chest, his palms slick with sweat. He didn't bother to tidy up; he simply gathered everything and threw it haphazardly into the car, a process that had taken at least half an hour when setting up camp. Now, with a hurried, rough departure, he managed it in just two minutes. Looking back to ensure nothing was missed, his legs still trembled like sieves. Hearing Chang Dong and Ye Liuxi say, "It could be a robbery—or perhaps a tomb robbery where they're also collecting valuables. Robbers don't leave without taking everything; they leave a trail behind. We've likely already been disturbed. If we stay any longer, there's risk." A colleague once mentioned to Changdong that people have been going missing at Luo Bu Po every year—though the incidents aren't always solely due to the remote, harsh conditions of the desert wilderness. Sometimes, people deliberately destroy bodies and cover up evidence, especially those involved in illegal mining or tomb-robbing, who, when particularly ruthless, target solo travelers to make quick profits. Fei Tang is timid and has never faced such a situation before. Combined with the constant wind rustling through the Yadan formations, producing eerie sounds, she feels as though her heart might stop at any moment: "East... East brother, shall we... call the police?" "Sure, but the police vehicle might not arrive until tomorrow—there's no guarantee they'll even come." Fei Tang swallows hard, her voice trembling. She used to complain about the congestion in cities, only now realizing that crowding has its advantages—emergency responses used to take hours, but here, even if you shout for help, the sky and earth seem to remain indifferent. Ye Liuxi asks, "Then what should we do now?" "There are two options. The first is to head out on the road—this stretch is open and spacious, but if you're driving at night, you'll need to turn on your lights, making you visible for miles. If the other side wants to block you, you'll be an easy target. The second is to stay here. If they don't come, that's fine; but if they do, you'll be a sitting duck. Fei Tang stared, then finally nodded, saying, 'Well, then, let's drive. After all, we both have four-wheel drive—maybe one of us will just be faster.' Their vehicles are both four-wheel drive, so they might not fall behind. Before getting in, Ye Liuxi pulled out her knife—a straight-bladed watermelon knife, wrapped in thick newspaper. Seeing Chang Dong looking at her, she smiled, 'I'm afraid we might end up fighting.' Chang Dong thought to himself: 'That would be a relief if we didn't.'