The car wasn’t going very fast, but even so, Li Cu flew sideways into the river, his face hitting the water surface in a disoriented manner. He struggled to get up and saw Yang Hao also emerge a few minutes later, seemingly in better shape than them. After some struggle, it was clear that Jie Yuchen was a trained fighter, dealing with them as easily as one would with a chick. Even Yang Hao, despite being a tough guy, was no match for a professional.

A few seconds after Yang Hao fell into the lake, Liang Wan also met the same fate. The river was wide enough, and Jie had chosen a good spot, with Yang Hao and Liang Wan at some distance from him. They could hear Yang Hao shouting, “I can’t swim! Someone come save me!”

Li Cu swam over, but Yang Hao had already gone under. He knew that rushing in to save him could put himself in danger, so he swam behind Yang Hao and pulled him out of the water. Yang Hao spat out water for a long time, coughed several times, and finally gasped for air, saying, “If I don’t get my revenge, I won’t be a man! Damn your ancestors!”

Li Cu cursed inwardly and turned to look at the distance from the shore, suddenly realizing they had ended up on the other side of the railway. The current was incredibly strong!

He paddled to keep his head above water and looked for Su Wan, seeing him far behind, spinning in the river. What kind of river was this? They had only been on the road for a few hours; how could there be such a fast current? Had there been a geological disaster on the outskirts of Beijing?

“What’s going on?” Yang Hao noticed something was off. “Dali, you’re a swimming expert! How can you swim so fast? Can you make it to the shore?”

Li Cu felt a sense of foreboding; in this current, swimming to the shore wouldn’t be a problem, but Jie Yuchen had chosen this river to throw them in. It couldn’t just be because there was a river here; could the strong current have been part of his plan?

After turning around in the rapid water, he realized he was right. In front of them, there were countless concrete boats blocking the river channel, nearly clogging it up. Because of the strong current, the anchor ropes were pulled tight. Between the boats were several submerged nets, and a large amount of garbage was piled up ahead.

This river must flow into the urban area of Beijing; all the floating debris was being intercepted here.

In an instant, they crashed into the cluster of boats. Su Wan was the first to hit the garbage pile. Someone on a boat reached out with an iron hook and pulled him out of the water, followed by Su Wan’s luggage, and then Yang Hao and Li Cu.

The garbage pile was extremely foul-smelling, and Li Cu’s mouth was filled with a strange taste. The person pulling him had immense strength and lifted him up before he could react, tossing him into the cabin of the boat.

The last thing he heard was Liang Wan shouting, “Don’t hook me, my Eight-Part Ruins!”

Then the curtain of the cabin was abruptly pulled down. The concrete boat’s cabin was large and originally open-air, but now it was covered with a canvas shelter. Inside, part of it was piled high with garbage, emitting a terrible stench. Standing in front of the garbage pile was a girl who looked quite young; she glanced at her watch and said, “Let them sleep for a while.”

A large hand from behind covered their mouths, and a strange smell rushed into their nostrils. It felt as if his brain was being assaulted by mustard, and then he found himself unable to think. Darkness enveloped him.

Li Cu was awakened by cold water splashing on him, the water rushing into his nostrils, and then he felt the heat surrounding him.

He wanted to open his eyes, but in an instant, a strong light made him shield his eyes with his hand, revealing a dazzling expanse of red before him. After a full 15 minutes, he finally opened his eyes, wiped his face, and found himself surrounded by white sand, with endless sand dunes stretching as far as the eye could see. There was no water on his face, only sand, and his lips felt a hint of moisture; the water must have dried up instantly.

He stood up, looking around in confusion as a heatwave hit him, this familiar heat feeling all too recognizable. After turning around, he didn’t see any of the Heat River people, but the white sand dunes surrounding him made it clear where he was. This was Gǔ Tóngjīng; he had returned.

What was going on? He tried to recall, thinking of the train, his thoughts, the river, and the garbage. Something was missing in between; he had been on a boat, so how did he end up here? Taking a step, he found his legs weak and noticed his backpack half-buried in the sand at his feet. Had they dumped him directly into the desert? How long had he been unconscious? Li Cuo shook his head and retreated to the shadow of the sand dune where he had just fallen, touching his lips. Who had woken him up just now?

He bent down to touch the sand. It was half-dry. A large area of sand was like this, especially in the shadowed parts. “Haizi,” he murmured to himself, realizing someone had placed him in the haizi, and once it moved, it erased the footprints. Perhaps they were afraid he would die from the sun before waking up, but judging by the dryness of his clothes, the haizi had moved away some time ago.

What about the others? He climbed up the sand dune and looked out at the endless expanse; there was nothing but white sand. He shouted a few times, but no one responded. Opening his backpack, he found water, food, and gear all intact. “What’s going on?” Li Cuo questioned, pinching the bridge of his nose in confusion. Was this fast-forwarding? This fast-forwarding had left him alone. He took out a compass and checked the direction. All around were identical sand dunes; what should he do next? Look for those trucks.

That was his first thought. However, there would be danger near the trucks, so he took a few steps and stopped again. A change in angle revealed something protruding from one of the sand dunes. It was part of a truck. He ran over and recognized it as the kind of truck he had seen before. Looking around, he realized what had happened. The sand had buried all these trucks again. He was surrounded by the haizi of those trucks.

He climbed to the top of the truck and shook it vigorously; the surrounding sand began to fall away, and a couple of trucks emerged from the collapsing sand dune. These trucks weren’t buried very deep; the sand was loose. Just then, he heard several gunshots. Li Cuo looked up to see someone on the opposite sand dune, holding a folded submachine gun and firing into the air while waving at him.

It was Yang Hao. He waved back, feeling relieved that he wasn’t alone; life wouldn’t be that hard after all. He jumped down from the front of the truck and walked toward Yang Hao, stepping into the damp sand, which was the water bottom of the haizi he had been in earlier.

About a third of the way there, he suddenly felt something was wrong; the sand was getting softer, rising up to his knees, and he was sinking deeper. He immediately retreated, running back a dozen steps, but suddenly his feet gave way, and he found himself submerged up to his neck.

“Quicksand,” he shouted, and saw Yang Hao rushing over to save him, but he also fell into it.
“Don’t, don’t move,” Li Cu said, recalling what he had heard in a movie, and immediately froze in place, but he still sank down quickly. He and Yang Hao exchanged glances, watching each other gradually being engulfed by the sand.