I listened in astonishment. I had just seen Wen Jin mention this place in her notes—how could they be going there too? For a moment, I was taken aback, and they shouldn’t have seen Wen Jin’s notes, so how did they know about this place?

“What’s wrong?” The Caucasian man asked me when he noticed my strange expression. “Your face suddenly went pale.”

“It’s nothing, just startled me a bit,” I quickly covered up, pretending to be curious. As I walked alongside him, I asked, “What is Tamu Tuo? What are you going there for?”

“Tamu Tuo? That’s a long story,” the Caucasian man said, glancing at An Ning ahead of us, and spoke softly to me, “I’ll tell you later. Let’s first see what those two guys bring back from inside.”

Seeing the look in his eyes, it seemed that An Ning didn’t want him to say anything, so I understood and fell silent.

People in the camp were running around, spreading the news, and those sleeping in their sleeping bags were all awakened by the commotion. We had to carefully navigate through the moving sleeping bags, following An Ning and the others.

The entire camp was quite large. After bypassing a cluster of “Land Rovers” by the roadside, we came to another area with tents. The largest tent, a dome-shaped one with a diameter of four to five meters, seemed to have been set up by the locals, with Tibetan writing on it indicating the accommodation rates. An Ning led us inside; it was very warm. I saw a charcoal stove with a small chimney burning on the side, and the ground was covered with thick, colorful yak wool blankets, which I later learned were called “coarse felt,” and are now quite expensive. There were also many old-fashioned Tibetan wooden furniture pieces and several unpacked non-woven fabric bags.

The entire tent was very comfortable. An Ning sat down on the carpet, and a Tibetan man entered, seemingly the owner of the tent, pouring us each a cup of butter tea. I also sat down and looked at these people.

What annoyed me the most was the “dumb oil bottle.” He sat across from me, not even glancing my way, leaning against a pile of felt, and immediately began to close his eyes and rest. Not everyone from the car had come; some unfamiliar faces had joined us, which made me quite uncomfortable. Among these people, I only recognized Wu Lao Si and the Caucasian man; the others were strangers.

As these people settled down, An Ning placed the items that the guy with the black glasses had brought out from the haunted house onto the low table in front of us.

It was a flat box made of redwood. When opened, it revealed a damaged blue-and-white porcelain plate, with a palm-sized piece missing from the left side.

There must be a space beneath that stone coffin, and it seemed that this porcelain plate was originally placed in that space. What is this thing, and why would the “dumb oil bottle” and the others go to steal it? I couldn’t help but feel a bit curious.

I was about to adjust the direction of my neck to look at the plate when suddenly two people entered the tent. They were a white-haired Tibetan old woman and a middle-aged Tibetan woman. The old lady was as thin as a dried tangerine peel, probably over seventy, but she was quite spirited, with sharp eyes. The middle-aged woman looked like an ordinary Tibetan person. As soon as they entered, the atmosphere in the tent changed; aside from the person wearing black glasses and the one with a dull personality, everyone else instinctively straightened up and turned their bodies towards them, especially towards the old lady. Two people even bowed to her, suggesting that this Tibetan old woman held a relatively high status here.

The old lady returned the greeting and glanced at us, particularly at me. Perhaps because I was a stranger, she looked at me a few more times before sitting down directly. An Ning respectfully picked up the porcelain plate and handed it to her, asking, “Ma Nai, could you take a look and see if this is what you saw back in the day?”

After he finished speaking, someone immediately translated it into Tibetan. The old lady listened and took the porcelain plate to examine it. After a few glances, she nodded repeatedly and began to speak in Tibetan. The translator started to convey her words back, and a few people began to engage in conversation.

Their dialogue was intermittent, and the translator’s proficiency in Tibetan was not very high; what was worse was that his Chinese seemed to be lacking as well, stammering through the sentences. I strained to listen but couldn’t understand, so I quietly asked the person next to me, Wu Laosi, “Who is this old lady?”

Wu Laosi did not answer me, but the person beside him, the one with black glasses, spoke up. He quietly said to me, “Her name is Ding Zhuo Ma, and she was Wen Jin’s guide back in the day.”

Upon hearing this name, I exclaimed softly, and my heart felt much clearer. I was also amazed by An Ning’s company’s extensive knowledge; they not only knew about Tamutuo but also about this guide. This meant that An Ning should know about Wen Jin’s situation, right?

I had learned from Wen Jin’s notes about their journey starting from Dunhuang into the depths of the Qaidam Basin, and she did mention that they had hired a Tibetan female guide. I couldn’t help but touch the notebook in my pocket, wondering what was going on. Could it be that someone else had read this notebook?

However, I remembered that Wen Jin also mentioned in her notes that this female guide did not take them very deep into the basin. After they passed through Dazhaidan and entered the Charkhan area, the guide could no longer find the way. In fact, there were no paths to follow, and eventually, they parted ways with the guide at the mouth of a salt mountain and set off deeper on their own. The Qaidam Basin covers an area of over 240,000 square kilometers, and their final journey lasted three weeks, but where they ended up, no one could say for certain.

It seemed that if they wanted to go to Tamutuo, this old lady alone would not provide An Ning and the others with particularly useful help. At most, she could take them to the place where they had parted ways with Wen Jin’s group.

Just as I was pondering this, An Ning’s conversation with Ding Zhuo Ma came to an end. After bowing, the middle-aged woman helped the old lady out. A few people who couldn’t understand asked what had happened, and An Ning could no longer hide the smile on his face, excitedly saying, “That’s right! She said this is the plate that Chen Wen Jin showed her back then. She said that with this plate, she can lead us to the mountain pass they used back then.”

A few people started to stir, and the guy in the black glasses asked, “When do we leave?”

An Ning had already stood up and said to them, “Today, at noon twelve o’clock, everyone will depart.” As she spoke, the others stood up and were about to walk out.

At that moment, the guy in the black glasses said, “What about him?” pointing at me.

An Ning and the others turned to look at me, seemingly having forgotten I was there, and a few of them were taken aback. I stared at An Ning, wanting to see how she would respond.

To my surprise, An Ning didn’t seem to care too much; after a moment of thought, she pointed at the quiet guy next to her and said to the guy in the black glasses, “He brought him back, let him take care of himself.” With that, she led the others out. The tent was left with just the guy in the black glasses and the quiet guy.

The guy in the black glasses chuckled awkwardly a couple of times, leaned back against the felt, lit a cigarette, and then looked at the quiet guy, saying, “I say, you’re just asking for trouble. You could have just not let him on the bus earlier; now what are we going to do?”

The quiet guy raised his head, glanced at me indifferently, and seemed to sigh helplessly. He said to me, “You should go back; this is no longer your concern. Don’t go back to that sanatorium; it’s too dangerous in there.”

I looked at him, feeling very displeased.

To be honest, I didn’t want to go to that damn place at all. I didn’t understand why An Ning and the others wanted to go there. I just wanted to know what the quiet guy had done in Yunding and what that terrifying scene I witnessed was all about.

So I replied, “I can go back, but I just want to ask you a few questions.”

The quiet guy continued to look at me indifferently and shook his head, saying, “My matters are not something you can understand, and there are some things I am also trying to find answers to.” With that, he stood up and left the tent without looking back.

I was so angry I was trembling, almost feeling like I could spit blood. Watching his back, I wanted to rush up and strangle him.

The guy in the black glasses sighed and patted me on the shoulder, saying, “There’s a bus here; it’ll take you to the city in three hours. Safe travels.”

After saying that, the guy in the black glasses also walked out of the tent, leaving me alone inside. The atmosphere suddenly became cold and desolate.

This made me feel very awkward, as if I was being looked down upon or even abandoned, which was quite uncomfortable. The attitudes of An Ning, the quiet guy, and the guy in the black glasses made me feel like I was an expendable person. This was more hurtful than insults or hatred.

However, the guy in the black glasses’ question was indeed valid.

Thinking about it, An Ning’s team was about to depart. I had been rescued from the ghost building by them, which was an unexpected event, so they hadn’t prepared any measures for me and had no obligation to explain anything to me. Of course, I should just go back on my own.

But I really couldn’t accept it. Watching the people coming and going outside the tent, preparing enthusiastically, I felt my blood boiling. I thought about what I could do after I went back. Wen Jin, who was supposed to send things, left before me; he could hide for twenty years without my uncle being able to find him, so how could I find him? Should I spend thirty years searching for him like my uncle did for a riddle? That was impossible.

The events that took place in the sanatorium were shrouded in mystery, with no clues in sight. However, the notes left by Wen Jin kept mentioning this “Tamutu.” Now, a group of people outside was about to set off, but I was preparing to buy a ticket to take a bus home. The only lead left in this whole situation was the notebook in my pocket, and the contents of that notebook seemed to be constantly hinting that I needed to go to Tamutu to uncover something.

What should I do? If I go back to Golmud, what can I do? I feel like I can’t do anything anymore.

“Be proactive in what you do.”

Suddenly, my grandfather’s words echoed in my ears, and I reached into my pocket to feel the notebook. I thought about my experience in Golmud, which I had gained because of my quick and decisive actions.

Alright, I made up my mind instantly. Damn it, you quiet guy, don’t be arrogant. If you can go, so can I, Wu Xie! This time, I’m going too! I stood up and walked over to An Ning, who was preparing her luggage outside, and asked her, “Do you have any spare gear?”

An Ning was counting her compressed biscuits when she heard my sudden question, and she looked quite surprised. “Spare gear? What do you want to do?”

I shrugged, unsure of how to express myself: “I want to join. I want to join you guys. I also want to go to Tamutu!”

“Join you? No way.” An Ning laughed and turned away from me. However, I continued to look at her and said, “I can help you. Think about what happened in the Cloud Top Palace.”

An Ning raised her head, her expression changed. She looked into my eyes and smiled slightly at me. “Are you serious?”

I nodded, and she pointed to the equipment truck nearby. “Take whatever you want. We leave at twelve sharp, and we won’t wait for anyone.”