Li Cu lay in the tent, which was made of space fabric. Once the zipper was pulled up, the cold outside had almost nothing to do with the warmth inside. The soldiers participating in this operation were all staying in large tents, while the expedition members clearly had more refined accommodations, with two people sharing a double tent. This arrangement allowed for a bit of privacy and made it easier for people to rest.

Li Cu and Wang Meng shared a tent. After Li Cu entered, the two of them sat on their sleeping bags, staring at each other in silence, not knowing what to say. Li Cu was contemplating the situation; it was Wang Meng who had attacked Liang Wan, and then Liang Wan had knocked him down. Although he had been present at the time, the matter should be considered as Liang Wan’s grudge against him. Surely, he wouldn’t seek revenge here.

Moreover, Wang Meng had a very strange personality. On the surface, there seemed to be nothing wrong with him, but he exuded an aura that was extremely abnormal. It was an indescribable feeling; although Li Cu could tell from their interactions that Wang Meng was not at all foolish and was quite efficient in his tasks, he always felt that Wang Meng was often half a beat slower than normal people.

When Wang Meng noticed Li Cu looking at him, he showed no reaction, wearing an expression that was particularly exasperating, making one want to kick him away. He simply stared back at Li Cu.

He made no extra movements, and suddenly Li Cu understood. A person, no matter how well-trained, will always have some unconscious habitual movements during idle times without a specific purpose. These small actions can connect into larger movements, giving the person a sense of continuity. However, Wang Meng was not like that; when he had nothing to do, he hardly moved at all, which gave him a very dull impression.

“You…” Li Cu wanted to know why this person was like this, so he tried to find a topic to discuss with him.

“I’m just a worker, just making a living, so don’t take it the wrong way,” Wang Meng said.

Li Cu knew Wang Meng was referring to his previous attack and smiled, “It’s fine, in this world, one must…”

Before he could finish, Wang Meng had already turned and switched off the light on his side, then lay down in his sleeping bag and went to sleep.

“…act according to one’s own circumstances,” Li Cu said helplessly, chuckling to himself, “What a strange person.” They were all strange people, damn it, all strange people.

“If you worked in a shop where the boss was never around, and you were the only one there from opening to closing time, sometimes for a whole year without anyone stepping in, you would learn to shut down your own power and become a strange person during the downtime, just to get through those painfully long days,” Wang Meng said from his sleeping bag.

“Have you worked in such a shop?”

“Almost five years in total. At my worst, I sat behind the counter and didn’t even want to play Minesweeper on the computer. So, I just sat there and eventually fell asleep. When I woke up, it was already noon the next day, so I just continued to do nothing.”

“Wow, wouldn’t you end up sprouting, or at some point, discover your feet had taken root?”

“I’ve had that kind of dream,” Wang Meng replied.

Li Cu suddenly wanted to burst into laughter but managed to hold it back with great effort. After calming down, he continued to ask, “What happened next?”

Wang Meng did not respond, and a few minutes later, a series of snores came from his side. Li Cu thought to himself that Wang Meng had really good psychological resilience. If he had gone through such an experience, he definitely wouldn’t be able to fall asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

However, upon further reflection, it might not be the case. If he were living such an extremely boring life, then sleeping might become a skill for escaping reality. Or perhaps, such a simple life would wash away all his distracting thoughts, leaving him completely clear-headed.

He lay in his sleeping bag, cradling his head in his hands, staring at the top of the tent. He realized that there was no way he could fall asleep, so he began to sort through everything that had happened up to that point.

The boss named Wu Xie was a hidden modern tomb raider. Besides tomb raiding, he also had hobbies as a photographer and freelance writer. Through these interests, he met a woman named Lan Ting, who told him that there was a mysterious power in Gulongjing that could prevent people from appearing in photographs.

Thus, Wu Xie began to investigate this matter and discovered that it was related to other experiences he had gone through, and the results of his investigation were now etched on Li Cu’s back.

He had been inadvertently drawn into this situation simply by passing through that place, and he was pulled in very innocently. The key parts would not be revealed to him.

No, he didn’t even know the crucial information. He sighed, thinking that Wu Xie must have only mentioned the surface details. The real essence was that “having an explanation is better than having no explanation.” Wu Xie seemed to have told him this. Was he hinting that knowing a little was enough, and not to dig deeper?

He really couldn’t be bothered to find out.

Li Cu picked up his camera, recalling that while taking landscape photos earlier, he seemed to have captured something strange. Out of boredom, he began to flip through his photos.

After going through the images one by one in the camera, he soon felt drowsy. Everything in the tiny viewfinder appeared very blurry. As he flipped through, he finally came across those few photos. He slowed down and looked closely, feeling that the problematic thing should be among those images.

Suddenly, he sat up. He had finally found the problematic photo.

Indeed, he had captured something. Near that sand dune, the sensation in that moment was not an illusion; he saw a shadow appear on the dune in that photo.

This was not an illusion caused by light and shadow; it was truly something indescribable that appeared on that dune.

Yes, it was a shadow.

Li Cu enlarged the photo again and again until the entire shadow filled the viewfinder. He stared at the shadow for a long time and finally realized that this was the outline of a person.

Li Cu gasped and looked carefully for a long time. Finally, he reached a conclusion. Judging from all the details of the shadow’s outline, it should be a woman lying on the sand dune.

The woman appeared at that spot the moment he took the photograph. For some unknown reason, the camera failed to capture her true appearance, only showing a blurred outline. However, he clearly remembered that when he lowered the camera and looked at that place with his naked eye, there was nothing there at all.

The entire process lasted no more than half a second; he didn’t see any dust being kicked up, nor did he notice any signs on the sand dune that indicated someone had just moved through. All he saw was an exceptionally quiet sand dune.

Suddenly, a chill crept through Li Zu’s bones, as if the temperature outside the tent had finally seeped inside. He quickly turned off the camera, then curled up in his sleeping bag and covered his head.