After the sun set in the west, Li Cu began to call the two of them to search for Liang Wan. The sunlight started to soften, and when the white sand no longer reflected the sunlight like a mirror as it did during the day, they could truly gaze at this desert.
They weren’t sure if the woman had been brought here like they had. Logically, if she had been transported like them, she should have appeared long ago. However, after a hasty search earlier, they were certain there was no one within the safe zone. In places too far from the lake, the sunlight reflected intensely, making it impossible for the naked eye to identify any objects.
Still not daring to stray too far from the lake, they split into three directions on the sand dunes to search. Li Cu earnestly reminded them that beneath the sand dunes surrounding the lake lay abandoned trucks; this circle of barriers was the line between death and survival. They absolutely could not descend the dunes to the edge of the lake.
Now that they were teenagers, the two of them could distinguish between jokes and seriousness, and they acted according to Li Cu’s instructions.
The sunset in the desert was magnificent. Before the sun cast the dunes into silhouettes, they probably had only about 30 minutes. Li Cu didn’t hold out much hope, but just two or three minutes after they split up, Yang Hao shouted. Li Cu and Su Wan gathered towards him and saw, about a kilometer away in a depression between two dunes, the flickering light of a campfire.
The firelight was very noticeable in the shadow of a dune.
“Binoculars,” Li Cu said to Su Wan. Su Wan took out a pair of binoculars, roughly the size of a cigarette pack, and handed them to him.
Li Cu took them and glared at Su Wan. Su Wan explained, “I bought them at a Wang Leehom concert, they were expensive. We need to save space; we’re not here to fight. This will do.”
Li Cu opened the binoculars to look at the campfire in the distance and saw Liang Wan by the fire, dressed very lightly, organizing her suitcase.
The magnification of the binoculars wasn’t enough; he could only see Liang Wan’s slender legs, and it seemed she was wearing nothing but a pair of panties. Li Cu lowered the binoculars and felt the distance, realizing it was quite bad.
Yang Hao took the binoculars to have a look. After a few glances, he turned back and slapped Su Wan across the face: “What the hell! We’ve had bad luck all the way here, and now we finally see a beautiful woman without clothes, and this great opportunity is ruined because you bought a crappy pair of binoculars!”
“What?” Su Wan immediately snatched them back to take a look. After a few glances, he slapped himself across the face.
Yang Hao turned around and pulled out his gun, cocking it. Su Wan immediately stepped back, promising he wouldn’t do it again. Yang Hao said, “I’ll fire a few shots to get her attention and let her come over here. Such a benefit, why should we let it be so far away?”
Li Cu waved his hand to stop him. That path was too dangerous. He didn’t know why Liang Wan was there—had she awakened here and walked over? Or had someone placed her there beforehand?
He carefully observed the outside dunes and noticed traces that looked like footprints on some of them. He couldn’t tell if they were left by Liang Wan as she walked.
The outside desert was extremely dangerous; they were too far away. If they couldn’t communicate properly, if Liang Wan came towards them, it could lead to serious trouble.
He looked around at the terrain; the sand dunes were constantly shifting, making it hard for him to judge the situation. The sun quickly sank below the horizon, and the campfire grew brighter, intensifying Li Cu’s ominous premonition. The desert surface remained calm, much like looking at a minefield — someone was starting a fire in the minefield. It seemed fine for now, but it was bound to lead to disaster. Yang Hao spat and said, “Give me the knife and rope. Tie the rope around my waist. I’ll go over there. If I can bring her back, I will; if not, I’ll stay with her.”
“Very manly, but something about it doesn’t feel right,” Su Wan said. Yang Hao cursed, “Stop talking nonsense and hand over the rope.”
“It’s not long enough,” Su Wan replied. “Only 30 meters. I think we should just shout, or make some noise to convey information.”
“That distance is still too far. It’s a miracle if she can hear us; conveying information is impossible.”
“They say the sound of a saxophone travels very far, especially in the desert. The saxophone and the dunes resonate, allowing the sound to carry a long distance. Moreover, the saxophone can mimic human voices, especially singing. We can use the saxophone to convey information,” Su Wan suggested.
Li Cu felt a headache coming on. He knew Su Wan played the saxophone fairly well, but was he really bringing this up now? He slapped Su Wan across the face and scolded, “Are you out of your mind? Where are we going to find a saxophone now? Can you be a bit more reliable?”
“I brought one!” Su Wan proudly pulled a brass instrument out of his backpack. “Ta-da! Miracle Little Prince, call me the King of Storage in Nancheng, the little white Doraemon.”
Li Cu looked at the brass object and confirmed it was indeed a saxophone. His expression changed, and he glanced at Yang Hao, who was equally stunned.
After a moment, the two of them instinctively grabbed Su Wan to give him a beating. “You motherf***er, the telescope takes up space, huh? You motherf***er, 30 meters of rope is enough, but a saxophone! A saxophone! What the hell did you bring a saxophone for?”
“The saxophone is my life!” Su Wan hugged the saxophone. “Come on, it’s not every day I get to the desert. One of my wishes is to play a tune facing the sunset, just like in the MV. I’m here for an adventure, and I want to fulfill my dream while I’m at it. Is that too much to ask?”
Exhausted, Yang Hao and Li Cu collapsed on the ground. Su Wan shook the sand out of the saxophone and gasped, “You commoners, do you understand what it means to have sentiment?”
“Was the MV filmed in the desert?” Yang Hao asked Li Cu.
Li Cu shook his head. “No, it was by the sea, on the beach, not in the desert.”
Su Wan was momentarily stunned. “No way.”
Yang Hao untied the clothes around his waist, climbed up bare-chested, and said, “Sentiment, huh? Hand it over; I’m going to smash it!”
Li Cu looked at the sun, which had left only a red line on the horizon. He waved at them and said, “Stop messing around. We’ll deal with him later; there’s no time. Didn’t you say you could mimic human voices with the saxophone? Hurry up and mimic.”
Su Wan got up, spat, and said, “One day, you guys will kneel before my saxophone.” He then took out the reed and shook the sand off, asking, “What do you want to say to her?”
“Just say that the desert here is very unsafe, and she should stay there; it’s best not to move recklessly or make too loud a noise. We’re trying to find a way.”
“Speak English,” Su Wan said. “This is a Western instrument; we can only speak English.”
Li Cu’s grades were poor, and Yang Hao didn’t even know basic grammar. The two of them hummed for a long time, and Li Cu finally said, “No safe, no move, you’d better shut up! We want the way now!”
Su Wan sighed and ignored them. As a mediocre student who had accumulated knowledge from various tutoring classes, his grades were much better than those of the other two. He climbed to the top of the sand dune, facing the sunset and the campfire, and began to play the saxophone.