Ye Liu first boiled pork ribs in mineral water. Chang Dong gathered several broken, dry poplar branches from nearby and used Ye Liu’s knife to chop them into shorter, finer pieces. The water boiled easily, but getting the meat to fall apart remained difficult—after all, in this place, there was no signal and nothing else to do. The two sat on opposite sides, watching the pot and adding wood to the fire. To protect against wind, Chang Dong placed a windbreak in front of the fire. He added more sticks when he wanted the fire strong, removed them when he wanted it smaller. Soon the water began to boil, releasing the aroma of the meat, and the small lid trembled and lifted with the steam. Chang Dong especially enjoyed this sound—it gave him a sense of eager anticipation, yet helplessness. Ye Liu focused on adding wood, speaking to Chang Dong in fragments. “Do you think there will be shadow figures appearing tonight?” “Not surprising at all,” Chang Dong replied. His girlfriend had been embedded in an unknown mound of yellow earth, and she had woken up from a hanging rope—so encountering any odd events now seemed entirely reasonable. "What if we simply can't find Kong Yang this time?" "Two years now—I've been mentally prepared. The only thing that keeps me from feeling the matter is complete is that, even after she's passed away, if I don't bury her, I still feel as though the work isn't finished." Chang Dong lifted the lid of the pot and used a spoon to skim off the scum. "As for you—if this trip yields nothing, you'll simply return to where you started." Ye Liuxi sneered, "I'm not in a hurry. What's urgent is the people who've harmed me." "Why do you think someone has harmed you?" Ye Liuxi broke off the wooden segments in his hands, one after another, and tossed them into the fire, as if playing with them. "Would I go and hang myself on my own? Would someone like me seek death? Of course not—someone has lifted me up and hung me there." "I was unconscious then—killing me would have been so easy, just one cut. If they didn't kill me, it was clearly to keep me alive." "They could have simply cleared the scene and left me completely unaware. Instead, they left behind a bundle I was on purpose—working casually, not in a rush—so I could see whether the other side would lose their patience first. She exhaled. The other party showed absolutely no signs of movement, a true millennium-old turtle with a ten-thousand-year-old temperament. "Having seen the photo of Kong Yang, learning about the Shan Chá incident, then finding you, and now arriving here—doesn’t that all point to a step-by-step progression into the carefully laid trap we’ve set?" she shrugged. "So I say, if I end up with nothing at all, it won’t be me who gets anxious—it’ll be the people behind the scenes. He sees me as a slow-witted chicken, so he keeps scattering rice in front of me, feeding me. I’ll just keep eating." "What if, at the end, the outcome turns out to be quite dangerous?" Ye Liuxi lifted the lid of the pot, efficiently peeled the yam, then cut the pieces and dropped them directly into the pot. "Well, then, it’s dangerous—so be it. We’ve already died once. Now we’re just enjoying the view with borrowed lives… Don’t you feel the same?" Chang Dong fell silent, reflecting carefully. He realized he hadn't quite captured her depth and ease—though there was something unusual about that ease. What kind of environment would nurture a personality like hers? The wind here was always peculiar; the locals call it "feng tou"—sudden, unannounced gusts that surge up unexpectedly, rage for a while, then vanish as if shrinking back. Ye Liuxi hurried to ladle the soup: "Eat now, before the pot gets blown away. Even raw yam is fine—no one will die from that." Chang Dong took the plastic soup bowl, blew on it, and was about to lower it to his lips when he paused again. He bent down, placed his hands on the ground, pressed his ears against it, listened for a moment, then stood up, brushed off his hands, and walked a few steps in the direction they had come. A car arrived. —— The sound wasn't just one vehicle. First came the headlights, flashing far off and blinding him. Chang Dong stepped aside. As the light approached, the music grew louder, the singer straining to shout, "Do you really love me?" so forcefully that Chang Dong felt the strain himself. The lead vehicle drew near, and the person in the driver's seat rolled down the window with a touch of challenge: "Hey, Changdong! What a coincidence—we've met again!" Meng Jingu. The two vehicles trailing behind were clearly members of the external photography team; Changdong quietly stepped back without a word. He had chosen a prime spot, surrounded by a soil platform that offered maximum wind protection—clearly also appealing to Meng Jingu and the others, who arrived in three vehicles and promptly parked nearby, loudly announcing their intention to set up camp. Titles like "Director" or "Model" or "Photographer" didn't matter much when it came to physical labor—Meng Jingu took on everything himself. As he carried his folding tents, he suddenly spotted Ye Liuxi and was taken aback: "Oh! There's a beauty here!" He had his gear tucked under his left arm, wiped his hands on his pants, then extended his right: "Everyone I work with on this route is a friend. Let me introduce you—this is Meng Jingu. Call me Metal." Ye Liuxi has always had little patience for people who strike up conversations easily. Holding her plastic soup bowl in both hands, she responded casually, "I don't have hands." Meng Jingu's voice was low. "Not having hands—really is a quite unique name." Ye Liuxi lifted her head, took a sip of soup, and stared at Meng Jingu for a while. Then, puffing out her cheeks and tilting her head, she pushed out a piece of soup bone. Someone who didn't know better or show proper grace would seem rather foolish. Meng Jingu blushed slightly, "You really are quite a personality." He then walked off, carrying his tent. Ye Liuxi looked up at Chang Dong. "What's going on?" Chang Dong sat down beside her and took a sip from his soup bowl. "The tire tracks, and the flag I've set—everyone has come over." "Then what do we do?" "They've all arrived. Should we push them away? The White Dragon Ridge wasn't even my creation." As he spoke, he paused, then turned his head again. Another vehicle had arrived. — That one’s easy to spot; even from a distance, the little pirate flag waves against the faint lighthouse light, dancing in the sand. Chang Dong wasn’t surprised. With Meng Jin Gu, there had to be Fei Tang as well. After all, he’d personally bundled the two of them together the previous day—so it wouldn’t make sense for them to part ways so quickly. Fei Tang didn’t feel comfortable greeting Chang Dong. His car passed straight by him and Ye Liuxi, without joining the group of Meng Jin Gu, instead pulling up a bit farther away. Ye Liuxi thought Fei Tang seemed rather isolated. “Either bring him back, or he’ll be a burden to Meng Jin Gu, and if he stays with us, he’ll be a burden to us too. Better to have him join us—no one will be left out.” She paused suddenly. With the wind growing stronger, another sound of approaching vehicles came through. Good heavens—Is it a market day at Bai Long Dui? She reached for her feet to get up and check, but Chang Dong said, “Don’t bother. We’ll have pancakes for breakfast tomorrow.” — The third group’s lead vehicle was a Lu Feng X9, Met again with Huai Ba. For a moment, the vast open space saw three groups of people, over twenty individuals, instantly raising the population density of the Luobupo Town to 0.13—something unheard of in the sparsely populated White Long Heap. As soon as Huai Ba stepped off the vehicle, he came straight over to greet Ye Liuxi, and before she even asked, he launched into a long stream of words: "The work we were doing didn't really pay off well. We decided at the last minute to leave early this year. Happening to meet your young team on the way, we decided to join forces and travel together." He probably had this conversation rehearsed in advance. After ten past ten, the wind began to howl fiercely—everyone rushed into their tents or climbed into their vehicles. The White Dragon Heap Devil City truly lived up to its reputation: the wind was piercing and relentless, seeping through every crack. Even tucked safely in a sheltered spot, the car windows trembled with a constant hum. "Chang Dong crouched down: 'Do you know what Gray Eight does?' Fei Tang held his neck stiffly, silent. Chang Dong sneered: 'If it weren't for our shared acquaintance, I wouldn't have bothered to intervene—Fei Tang, the path you've chosen is your own. Gray Eight has a case on his back; sooner or later, he'll be done. If you want to go down with him, then by all means, keep going.' As he stood up and walked, he had only taken a few steps when Fei Tang suddenly erupted. 'What have I done? What have I done?!' His voice carried a hint of tears, and Chang Dong's heart softened, stepping still. 'You two, Xī Jiā, are the real insiders—knowing I'm greedy, you never said a word, watching me act all strange. Did I really steal anything? Ah? I just thought about it—didn't act—shouldn't thinking itself be a crime? Look at the photos of women you admire—haven't you ever thought about sleeping with one? Just thinking about it, and now I'm a rapist?' "Chang Dong said, "Just get on with whatever you have to say—don't drag me in!" Fei Tang grew more and more frustrated: "What do you mean I'm being lumped together with Gray Eight? You've never tasted his pancakes, never slept in his tent, have you? How can it be that as soon as I establish some connection with him, it's destined to fall apart? Lu Xun once said that he never hesitated to judge Chinese people with the most negative intentions—let me tell you, Lu Xun was describing exactly people like you: dark in thought, self-important!" Chang Dong: "...” "What have I done?" Fei Tang wiped his nose. "I just exchanged numbers with Gray Eight, told him I deal in antiques, and said that whenever he has something valuable, he should reach out to me. Then, as soon as I heard you were coming to Baidongdui…" "Anyway, Gray Eight has already moved camp and is heading in the same direction. So I thought, with someone to guide us, why not bring more people along to gather up the scattered goods? If we can collect a decent haul, wouldn't that be better than a raid? Who'd have thought you'd be even harsher than a human trafficker...?" He grew more and more agitated, then lay flat on the ground, looking completely resigned: "You turned me over on the spot in front of everyone—did you even consider their dignity? Look at your expression back then—like I was just a smear of nasal mucus, eager to get rid of me right away. Now you come here to scold me? You're so clever, so proud, so full of righteous indignation!" He pounded the ground with his hands, deeply distressed, only regretting that no one was there to witness it, unable to expose Changhai's true character in front of more people. Changhai said: "...Alright, get up now." "Fei Tang won't rise: 'Tell me, if today you don't give me a clear explanation, then I'll...' Before he could finish speaking, his entire body suddenly surged like a jet-powered rocket launched straight from the ground, hurling him forward several meters before he came to a sudden, motionless stop at a distance.