Chang Dong knows this man—he’s also in the industry—and his name is Meng Jin Gu. Originally nicknamed “Metal,” because manganese, gold, and cobalt are all metals. But since Meng has always prided himself on being romantic and has a complex web of romantic relationships, the nickname “Non-Ferrous Metal” has become more widely used. In fact, he doesn’t mind it at all; he even takes pride in it, saying: “If men aren’t passionate about women, then what makes them men?” Meng Jingu had a near-fatal crash, even losing an arm, but Chang Dong performed with seamless grace and set a new speed record. This deeply humiliated him, prompting him to train diligently, hoping to reclaim the advantage when they raced again. Yet, when Meng finally mastered the "sand dune crossing" maneuver and found Chang Dong once more, Chang Dong simply put him out of his misery with one sentence: "Time to focus. It's over." Meng learned from secondhand reports that Kong Yang had watched the match footage and, with tears in her eyes, told Chang Dong: "No one can claim to always be lucky. This time he lost an arm—what about next time? What if he hits his head, or suffers a spinal injury?" Thus, Chang Dong decided to step back. Meng found women to be particularly troublesome, and behind Chang Dong's back, he remarked: "He used to be a real star—how did he become a bear once women entered the picture?" This became the entirety of their interaction. They weren't particularly close, nor had Meng ever allowed himself to let Meng Jingu sit on the front hood of Chang Dong's car. Chang Dong furrowed his brow, hadn't even had time to speak when Meng Jin Gu already jumped down from the car, rushing forward in a few steps: "Chang Dong, it's really you! I saw the message in the exploration group saying you've changed your route—I couldn't believe it. It's been two years now. Honestly, it's not your fault at all. I myself have stayed at Ge Tou Sha Pozi several times. Natural disasters happen—whichever one hits, it's just a matter of who gets caught in the crossfire. Oh, I even posted a message back then to help you out!" "Anything in particular?" Meng Jin Gu did have something on her mind. "Actually, since you're coming from Yumen, that means you're taking the transverse route—so, next, are you heading upward?" This couldn't be hidden from anyone. Luo Bu Po is vast, but there are only a few safe routes. When travelers take the same general direction at the same time, they inevitably meet along the way. "Yes," Meng Jin Gu exhaled in relief. "Me too. Would you mind if I join you? With more vehicles, we can keep an eye out for each The warning just issued last night in the big group—weather up here has been poor these past couple of days, with dust storms coming on suddenly, especially severe—” he lowered his voice: “Some folks camping in Long City reported this morning that they saw wolf tracks beside their campsite, not just one or two lines of them. So everyone’s trying to pool together and move out. You haven’t seen how many cars are parked in town, have you?” What Meng Jingu said wasn’t entirely true. The messages circulating in the group were far more serious: locals reported that it had been many years since such poor weather conditions had occurred. Satellite signals were weak, possibly affected by the magnetic field of the Luo Bu Po region; several GPS units malfunctioned. One five-vehicle convoy lost two of its vehicles during a sandstorm—now out of contact. The group was filled with expressions of admiration and nostalgia for Zhao Ziyun, known as the "King of Deserts." While Zhao was still alive, he was hailed as the living map of Luo Bu Po. Modern exploration has grown increasingly dependent on electronic equipment; once these systems fail, everyone becomes effectively blind. Amid this atmosphere, it was rare for someone to speak up in praise of Chang Dong: his sensitivity to direction truly stands out as the best in recent years. In such weather, few could venture out and make it—Chang Dong is one of the few who dared and succeeded. In the end, the group issued an announcement: safety comes first. If the itinerary hasn't started, the trip will be canceled. It's recommended that teams already in Lop Nur either return via the southern route or find a safe haven on-site. If customers don't understand, make every effort to persuade them. While profitability is important, life itself is more precious—nobody wants to end up on Lop Nur's missing list. Meng Jin found himself at a loss. This trip was with a small external photography team from a magazine, consisting of six people. The director was exceptionally picky, bringing along a photographer with a strong artistic flair, a young assistant, a makeup artist who also managed wardrobe, and two polished, well-dressed fashion models. They were aiming to produce a series of photos under the theme of "The Princess of Loulan." Behind this project was a strong financial backing, so they were willing to invest generously. As a result, Meng Jin had been offered a very attractive fee. The contract clearly stipulated: we won't settle for places where tourists can easily take a standard "here I am" photo—we specifically want to go to places that few, if anyone, have ever visited, producing images that will truly astonish. Meng Jin Gu was fully agreeable. When signing the contract, he expressed some reservations: "I've heard the weather there isn't very favorable..." Meng Jin Gu knew well that at this time of year, Lop Nur enjoyed its finest and most stable weather. To elevate his profile and ensure the contract wouldn't fall through, he deliberately emphasized the challenges: "If such conditions arise, others would certainly be unable to proceed—but if you choose me, you'll be in good hands. Rest assured, the photos taken during fierce sandstorms will be absolutely stunning; even the visual effects team couldn't match that." This made perfect sense, so he signed right away. Unforeseen circumstances, however, soon unfolded—Lop Nur's weather turned unpredictable, and proved more challenging than anyone had anticipated. Meng Jin Gu had never encountered such severe weather in his career. He reached out to communicate: "You said you could handle any situation, right?" "But the wind and sand have been particularly strong..." "Isn't that precisely what makes the photos so exceptional?" "The hardest part was handing him a copy of the contract and reminding him to check the breach clauses: 'You don't have to go in, but we'll double up on compensation—that's what we agreed upon.' With a firm heart, Meng Jin agreed to proceed. After all, what's the difference? A strong wind—how long can it blow? Maybe it'll tire out and stop on its own. For psychological comfort, he decided to buy an extra two pounds of radishes as a safety measure. Indeed, good fortune had it that he spotted Chang Dong's car right on the street. After listening carefully, Chang Dong paused and asked, 'Will you go to pay homage to Yu Gong? Will Loulan go? What about Xiao He? And the Sun's Tomb?' Meng Jin felt confident and immediately nodded: 'Yes, yes—we won't miss a single one.' Chang Dong nodded in agreement: 'That's good.' Meng Jin's face lit up. 'Unfortunately, I won't be going. I'm heading up, through the White Dragon Range—there's no way to make it on the way. But my friend here would like to go,' Chang Dong introduced Fei Tang. 'You two could team up and support each other.' — Upon returning to the hotel, Ye Liuxi had just finished washing and was drying her hair while arranging her luggage. Seeing only Chang Dong returning alone, she felt a bit puzzled: “Where’s Fei Tang?” Chang Dong was sorting through the items needed for his shower and casually explained the situation. Ye Liuxi couldn’t help but feel sympathetic: “Did you just leave Fei Tang like that?” That slender little monkey had traveled all the way west, contributing both financially and physically, yet he had only managed to touch the jade stag head once or twice—so eager to win her favor, yet ultimately falling short, a truly heart-wrenching situation. Chang Dong replied: “What does it mean to ‘leave’ him? Meng Jingu wanted to take more buses for added support, so I recommended Fei Tang to him; Fei Tang wanted to explore the scenic spots, so I suggested him to Meng Jingu. Both of them got what they wanted—how could that be any better?” He stepped into the bathroom, where the fresh, warm scent of the bath lingered. Between the fragrance of the shower gel, he sensed a subtle presence—something distinctly feminine—seeming to linger around her. Suddenly, he felt awkward, wanting — The clear route Changdong pointed out to Fei Tang, which connects directly to Hami, is precisely the Haluo Highway. Half of its route consists of locally compacted salt soil, pressed and piled into even ground, allowing a decent driving speed, though it's prone to water damage—some sections are so delicate that even a single urination can leave a noticeable depression. Industry-wise, the term "Long City Yadan" refers to a broad concept; strictly speaking, the Haluo Highway serves as a dividing line: to the left lies Long City, and to the right, White Dragon Dune. Long City, being closer to Loulan, Yugu Mu, and Tuyin, attracts more visitors, and its roads are often worn down by tire tracks. In contrast, White Dragon Dune is more remote, more perilous, and more desolate; ancient texts often describe it as a haunt of ghosts and spirits. Many travelers who cross the Haluo Highway can easily capture photos of White Dragon Dune, yet these are typically taken from the periphery—few actually reach its central core. Based on Kongyang’s photograph, Changdong appears to view White Dragon Dune as the true destination. On the way, he gave Ye Liuxi a heads-up: "The wind there is very strong—the name 'Yadan Group' really underestimates it. It's more like a full-fledged Yadan city. They say it's difficult to set up camp, and I've never stayed there myself. They claim it's even more daunting than Long City. You should be mentally prepared." Ye Liuxi replied, "If I'd known that, I'd have brought Meng and Fei Tang along too. With more people, at least we'd have some courage." Chang Dong glanced at her: "Though no one has explicitly stated it, we all sense that what we're about to do isn't exactly something pleasant—how can we possibly pull in people who have nothing to do with it?" Ye Liuxi said, "I don't know what you think, but I'm certainly comfortable with it." — By dusk, the vehicle slowly entered the heart of Baidongdui. Chang Dong had set up flag markers along the route to ensure they wouldn't lose their way—yet the wind hadn't started, and the surroundings were utterly still and silent. The terraces here are some covered with saline soil layers, others draped in crystalline salt, and still others composed of white clay. Tall and winding, each terrace stretches at least a hundred meters in length—truly resembling the coiled body of a massive dragon. As usual, Chang Dong parks the vehicle at a broad, wind-protected terrace, about ten meters high, like a solid and substantial wall. Ye Liuxi, carrying a telescope, climbs to a higher vantage point to take in the view. Under the gradually fading dusk, the entire white dragon glows with a cool, silvery hue; not a single bird has flown across the sky. Yet, though the terraces appear strangely shaped, none of them currently bears any human figures embedded within them. Perhaps they haven't ventured deep enough? Chang Dong attempts to set up camp, but the saline soil here is too hard—his tent stakes won't penetrate. After trying twice, he gives up and looks up to call Ye Liuxi, "Come down—tonight we'll have to sleep in the vehicle. Let's prepare dinner first." Ye Liuxi nodded and turned to walk down toward the earth platform. After taking a few steps, she suddenly noticed something and abruptly turned back. A steady stream of blood traces stretched from the ground all the way to her feet. She knelt down and lifted her pant leg to examine—it was indeed bleeding again. Ye Liuxi furrowed her brows. When she had arrived, she had been very careful, barely using her injured foot at all, yet it was still bleeding. She glanced at Chang Dong below the platform—he was gathering scattered soil and stones, trying to build a simple fire platform. Well, she wouldn’t tell him now; otherwise, he’d complain again about her having an injured foot yet still climbing up and down. She’d deal with it herself later. With care, she crawled down the platform. As dusk deepened, when the light had completely vanished, the blood stains that had dried on the platform suddenly hissed and bubbled softly.