The conversation with my uncle lasted nearly two hours, during which we drank two kettles of hot water. By the end, both of us felt extremely exhausted, both mentally and physically. My uncle’s health had not fully recovered, and after speaking, he felt dizzy. I didn’t want to disturb him further, so I took care of some of his personal belongings, changed the hot water and tea leaves, and left quietly.

The guy who went out to buy the video recorder had not returned yet. I guessed that buying such a thing was indeed quite difficult, as it had been out of production for too long; even if we could find one, it might not work. I had forgotten about the videotape while listening earlier, but now it came to mind and I couldn’t help but feel a wave of fear. I remembered my uncle sighing earlier, saying that this matter would continue to be a hassle. His tone was weary and helpless, which made me feel very uncomfortable.

We knew almost nothing about the “Mysterious Oil Bottle” incident. He was either on the ship by chance or had a purpose for being mixed in with the archaeological team; we didn’t even know that much. Moreover, unlike my uncle, the Mysterious Oil Bottle was someone who wouldn’t respond no matter how much you pressed him about things he didn’t want to discuss. Although my uncle had shared some information about him, from this perspective, the things my uncle said could not be considered the truth of the matter; he actually knew very little more than I did.

Thinking about this made my previously light-hearted mood feel a bit heavy again.

After handling everything, my uncle’s companion finally returned, but he hadn’t managed to buy the item; the market was closed, so we would have to think of something tomorrow.

It had been a long time since I had a conversation with my uncle, and now that I had unburdened my heart, my mood improved. That evening, I sneaked out with my uncle and the others to find a roadside eatery, where we had a good drink. After eating bland hospital food for so long, I finally got to enjoy some flavorful dishes. My uncle was very happy, with a cigarette in one hand and a drink in the other, finally able to relax for a bit.

On the way back, he went to handle his discharge procedures, stating that he would never stay in the hospital again, and asked me to book a hotel room for him.

I had a bit too much to drink and, upon returning to the hotel, I booked a suite for my uncle. I took a nice shower, brewed myself a strong cup of tea, and prepared to sleep.

However, after washing up, I found it hard to fall asleep, so I turned on the computer and pulled up the old photo of my uncle from before his departure to the Xisha Islands.

I had seen this photo many times before; however, as a black-and-white image, aside from recognizing a few familiar faces, it was difficult to distinguish the others, and my uncle had never told me who was who. In the photo, my uncle looked thin and reserved, not at all like a rustic man, while the Mysterious Oil Bottle resembled an ordinary student. I tried to find the “Jie Lianhuan” (a character in a story or puzzle) and indeed found someone who bore a slight resemblance to my uncle, but I couldn’t be sure if it was him. I couldn’t help but sigh; who would have thought that beneath this ordinary photo lay so many hidden stories?

After looking for a long time and realizing I couldn’t see anything significant in the photo, I used the hotel phone to dial the website of the company where the Mysterious Oil Bottle sent the package, entered the tracking number, and checked the information for this shipment.

The query results came out quickly. When I scrolled to the shipping location, it wasn’t blank; there was a three-character city name: Golmud. This videotape had been sent from a place called Golmud.

I was taken aback for a moment, wondering where that place was. Then I quickly “googled” it and was even more surprised to find out that it was a city in the West, located in Qinghai Province.

Qinghai? When did the Silent Oil Bottle go there? I began to doubt; this guy sure moves fast, suddenly running off to the vast West. Could he be going to support the underground trade in that region? But Qinghai isn’t within the territory of the local bandits; it’s an area populated by ethnic minorities, and only those involved in selling dried corpses or international antiquities smuggling would go there. What could he possibly do there? Help people dig wells?

Moreover, he even sent me a videotape, which seemed completely unrelated to everything else.

I looked up some information about Golmud and learned about its history, becoming even more astonished to discover that Golmud is a new city, built by the People’s Liberation Army while constructing roads, surrounded entirely by Gobi desert. With him there, I really couldn’t figure out what he could be doing, and what was on that videotape he sent back?

Damn it, I was getting a bit restless, and my interest in that videotape intensified.

After sipping some strong tea to suppress the alcohol, I compiled the information I had gathered today and sent it to a few people on An Ning’s side. I was familiar with these people and hoped they could help me take a look; perhaps I could get some useful feedback. Although my uncle told me not to share with others, I thought it wouldn’t be a big deal to tell the people at Qiu Dekao’s, and I deleted the more sensitive but less important content. I also asked them if the company had any plans to enter Yunding Tiangong again recently.

After finishing these tasks, the alcohol began to take effect, and I quickly succumbed to sleep, my vision blurring. I slept particularly soundly, without any dreams, and didn’t wake up until dawn when I was disturbed by a phone call.

I answered the phone; it was my uncle’s associate calling. He said they had been discharged from the hospital, my uncle was in the suite next to mine, and they had already bought the video recorder, asking me to come over to watch it together.