The convoy of jeeps sped across the vast, desolate Gobi Desert. The climate was dry, and the vehicles were spaced far apart to avoid the clouds of yellow dust kicked up by the car ahead. I sat in the car, gazing out the window and pondering my previous decision, unsure if it was the right one. At that moment, it felt a bit reckless. However, now that I was on this “pirate ship,” I had no face to turn back.

Aning had shared her plan with me before we set off. I realized it followed the exact route taken by Wen Jin back in the day, starting from Dunhuang, passing through Dazhai Dan, and entering the area around Lake Charkhank. From there, we would leave the road and venture into the uninhabited region of the Qaidam Basin. Then, guided by Ding Zhuzhoma, the team would be led to the place where she parted ways with that exploration team back then.

This route was almost identical to what Wen Jin had written in her notes, which puzzled me. Where did she get this information? Clearly, she knew about Tamutu, Ding Zhuzhoma, and the route, as if she had seen the notes herself, but the notes were in my pocket.

The convoy resupplied along the way and soon arrived in Dunhuang as planned. Someone told me that the route before reaching the Charkhank area was still relatively safe, akin to a self-driving trip.

The Yadan landforms on both sides of the road allowed me to appreciate the desolation of the Gobi. The feeling of endlessness at the edge of the world evoked a strong sense of abandonment. At first, this feeling could be alleviated by the many ruins of former settlements along the roadside, but once we left Dunhuang and drove onto the Charkhank highway, plunging directly into the Gobi, it became inescapable. After hours of driving with little change in scenery, the sensation was suffocating. Thankfully, the large size of Aning’s team brought some comfort during our camps with the noise they made.

I was in a car with a Caucasian man, who took turns driving with another Tibetan driver. On the road, I asked him these questions to see if he could provide answers.

The Caucasian man answered easily, and I realized that I had been overthinking things. I always assumed she must have seen the notes to know about Tamutu, Ding Zhuzhoma, and the route, but that wasn’t the case at all. Aning’s first action upon receiving the videotape was to investigate the courier company that sent it. Through the memories of the courier company staff, they found the sender of the package, who turned out to be Ding Zhuzhoma.

After visiting her and inquiring about the package, they learned about Tamutu, the guides, and the route. Now, the current plan was entirely based on the information from Ding Zhuzhoma.

Hearing this, I felt relieved. In that case, the first half of the third part of Wen Jin’s notes was unimportant; what mattered was the segment from when they parted ways with Ding Zhuzhoma to entering Tamutu. Unfortunately, I hadn’t examined that part closely enough, and I needed to find an opportunity to sneak a look at it again.

Then, the Caucasian man shared what he knew about Tamutu. He told me that the concept of Tamutu was only understood after finding Ding Zhuzhoma. According to her memories of overhearing conversations between Wen Jin and the others, it seemed to be the last stop of Wang Zang Hai, but as for its exact location, Wen Jin and the others didn’t know; they were just searching.

However, based on her experiences and observations during the journey, Ding Zhuozhoma formed her own judgment. She discovered that the Tamutu they were searching for was actually the legendary Kingdom of the Queen Mother of the West in their region. According to the locals, it should be called Tarmusdu, which means “the ghost city in the rain.” Upon realizing this, she became very frightened and pretended to be lost, parting ways with them.

“The Kingdom of the Queen Mother of the West?” I was surprised to hear this. “Isn’t that something from mythology?”

“Actually, it’s not. The Kingdom of the Queen Mother of the West really exists and has a long history; legends about it date back to the time of the Yellow Emperor. The Queen Mother is the queen of the kingdom. In the Qiang language, Qinghai Lake is called ‘Chixuejiamu,’ where ‘jiamu’ means ‘Queen Mother.’ We believe it is the Queen Mother’s Yaochi, and Tarmusdu is the capital of the Queen Mother’s kingdom. In the legends of the Western Regions, the Queen Mother represents sacred power. When Ding Zhuozhoma was a child, she heard legends that this city would only appear during heavy rain, and if one saw it, they would have their eyes taken and become blind, which terrified her greatly.”

“So, are you saying that what we’re looking for now is actually the ancient capital of the Kingdom of the Queen Mother of the West?”

“You could say that. According to current archaeological data, especially from recent years, the existence of the Queen Mother has been confirmed,” the Caucasian said. “In fact, if Tamutu is in the Qaidam Basin, it must be part of the Kingdom of the Queen Mother. This trip to find Tamutu is essentially a quest to uncover the remnants of the Kingdom of the Queen Mother. What you need to understand is that we are not searching for the Kingdom of the Queen Mother; rather, what we find will automatically become part of it. That’s the nature of archaeological exploration.”

I couldn’t help but smile wryly. The Queen Mother? I recalled that she was not someone to be trifled with. Was Wang Zanghai’s final mission to the Queen Mother? Did that make sense?

After thinking for a moment, I recalled the legend of Hou Yi seeking the elixir of immortality and wondered if Wang Zanghai’s journey was also to seek the elixir. It seemed very absurd, so I shook my head and dismissed the thought.

For the next two days, I was checking the gear I had received from Aning. Their company provided special clothing. My regular clothes would get me sunburned during the day in the Gobi and freeze me at night, so I changed into desert gear in the vehicle. To my surprise, I found that the belt of this outfit also had the number 02200059.

I asked the Caucasian what this number was, and he said it was their company’s barcode number; their boss was obsessed with this number, which was said to have been translated from a piece of silk text from the Warring States period.

I was quite astonished, recalling the code on the Qixing Lu Wang box, wondering if this number had some special significance.

In the following two days, we penetrated deeper into the Gobi. The “Land Rover” was very fast, and within these two days, we had entered the heart of the Qaidam Basin.

Aning’s team was very friendly. During several camping sessions, I got along well with the few people who had been with me in Jilin, and the others also became familiar with me. With my personality, it was quite easy to get along with others. At least this had one advantage: I didn’t have to face the expressionless “dull oil bottle” all day. It seemed he didn’t want to pay any attention to me at all.

This is actually a bit unusual, because in our previous encounters, although the man in the oil bottle was equally difficult to get along with, he didn’t feel as distant as he does this time. I always felt that he was avoiding something. On the contrary, that guy with the black glasses seemed very interested in me, always coming over to talk.

Once the vehicle entered the Gobi Desert, it quickly left the road, and Dingzhu Zhuoma began to lead the way. She was accompanied by her daughter-in-law and a grandson, traveling in the same vehicle as An Ning, at the front of the convoy. I didn’t know their circumstances, only that after the old woman started leading, the route became increasingly difficult to navigate, either rocky terrain or the dry riverbeds of canyons, and soon the team was filled with complaints.

Dingzhu Zhuoma explained that to find the mountain pass she had seen back in the day, they first needed to locate a village. Their journey back then had started from that village, where Wenjin’s horses and camels were purchased. The village might have been abandoned by now, but its ruins should still exist; they needed to find it to proceed to the next step.

The old woman’s memory was quite good, and sure enough, by evening, we arrived at the small village called “Lancang,” where there were still people living—four households with over thirty individuals.

This discovery thrilled us. It not only proved the old woman’s abilities but also indicated that things were progressing smoothly. After spending a long time traveling through the Gobi, seeing a place where people gathered was particularly uplifting. Since it was getting late, we decided to set up camp in the village.

Unfortunately, an accident occurred when we entered the village. A vehicle flipped into a wind-eroded gully. No one was hurt, but the vehicle was totaled. At that point, we were quite far from the nearest road, making it impossible to get any assistance. This meant another vehicle would have to stay behind to look after the situation.

After this incident, An Ning began to appear troubled. That night, while resting beside the wrecked vehicle, she expressed her concerns to us. She was a bit worried; although we were equipped with top-notch off-road vehicles, the surrounding conditions were extremely harsh. If we couldn’t find the mountain pass in the short term, these vehicles would surely be rendered useless one by one. Sometimes it could be a minor issue that would cause a vehicle to break down, but here, even small problems could lead to complete failure.

The deeper they ventured into the basin, the more abandoned vehicles and people might be unable to receive timely rescue and could encounter danger in the Gobi.

Vehicles are fundamentally different from camels and horses. A wounded camel can heal on its own, and minor injuries don’t affect its ability to travel. However, under high technology, vehicles are heartbreakingly fragile; once an accident occurs, they become incredibly vulnerable. After all, these are civilian vehicles, not built with military-grade durability.

But this was not An Ning’s miscalculation. In this day and age, it was impossible for a team of nearly fifty people to ride camels into the Qaidam Basin. First, it would be impossible to find that many camels in a short time. Fifty people, plus the camels for carrying luggage and spares, could require nearly a hundred camels. Such a large caravan would be too conspicuous and would definitely attract the government’s attention.

The mechanic accompanying the team said to her that there was no need to be overly worried. The Qaidam Basin isn’t a vast place when traversed at the speed of a “Land Rover.” Twenty years ago, the Qaidam Basin might have been as feared as the Taklamakan Desert, a deathly sea where few dared to tread. Now, one can cross half of the developed area in just a few hours, which contains numerous exploration and industrial bases, so there’s no need to be so concerned.

However, this statement was immediately dismissed by the grandson of the team leader, a young man named Tashi. He said that we were placing too much trust in the power of machines. Although the Qaidam Basin has been conquered, safe areas are limited to places accessible by the road network, which constitutes only about two percent of the entire basin. The remaining ninety-eight percent is comprised of deserts, swamps, and salt flats. Our convoy of over ten vehicles and fewer than fifty people is insignificant compared to this land that has been consuming life for millions of years.

He noted that even along the safest designed tourist routes, there are still people who go missing or die in accidents each year, not to mention that we were now preparing to venture into uninhabited areas.

He also mentioned that the people he had encountered before were travelers whose goal was to cross the basin, and these individuals would not linger in the basin for more than two days. Our purpose, however, was to search within the basin. This means our journey would be endless, which is the greatest taboo for the herders who once roamed this area. Therefore, Miss Ning’s concerns were not unfounded; it’s always better to be cautious.

Tashi’s words left us in silence. Anning thought for a long time before asking Tashi, “What suggestions do you have for us?”

Tashi shook his head and replied, “Since you are determined to enter the Qaidam, then you must keep your heads on your belts. It has always been this way.”

Tashi’s statement had a somewhat alarmist tone. I had previously heard from others that he was very angry with his grandmother for agreeing to guide us, as he thought it was too dangerous. Anning and the others had even persuaded his grandmother with money, which he considered a form of karmic debt, bringing danger and sin to her. However, the elder Danzhu Zhuma was very resolute; in Tibetan families, the grandmother holds a very high status, and Tashi had no choice but to follow along to take care of her. As a result, he hardly showed us any pleasant demeanor or said anything kind during the journey.

Despite this, as we sat in the village with only a few earthen houses and felt the piercing cold wind of the Gobi at night, gazing at the flickering campfire and contemplating our distance from the civilized world, I still felt a chill run down my spine.

After he finished speaking, we lost the interest to talk. The few of us sat in silence by the campfire for a long time before each of us retreated into our sleeping bags to rest. We would be departing early the next morning, and Anning didn’t set up a tent; we all slept in the open. The nighttime temperature here could sometimes drop below zero, so we huddled behind raised earth ridges, close to the campfire for warmth.

Lying there, I sensed that many people were unable to sleep. The whispers carried by the wind surrounded us. It was no wonder; this might be the last marked place on the map before entering the Qaidam. Experienced adventurers might not care much, but a significant portion of our team was made up of locals we had hired, and in such moments, they were naturally a bit more excited.

I don’t know whether I’m a veteran or a novice; I just looked up at the sky and noticed that it was much closer to the ground here, and the stars were much clearer. I am in the south, and since becoming an adult, I haven’t seen a sky full of stars for a long time. Now, seeing the brilliant Milky Way so clearly made me lose my sleepiness.

However, the fatigue from the long journey always takes its toll. After a while of commotion, the sounds around me gradually quieted down.

Anning and the others had arranged for someone to keep watch at night. Since there were many people, the tiring tasks were mainly handled by locals they hired, so we wouldn’t have to take turns. But because this is still a village, there was no need for excessive vigilance. Zaxi also mentioned that large wild animals might appear only near Kekexili, and there was so little grass here that even mice didn’t come, let alone carnivorous beasts. So I hadn’t heard the night watchmen chatting, and they probably had fallen asleep. I faintly heard a few animal calls in the wind, but I didn’t pay much attention to them; we were sleeping right in the middle of the camp, so if something were to be eaten, it wouldn’t be us.

As I pondered and gazed at the night sky, I don’t know how much time passed. Just as I was about to doze off, I suddenly felt someone standing in front of me. I shivered, and when I woke up, it turned out to be Zaxi.

I was startled by him and quickly sat up, wanting to speak, but he crouched down and covered my mouth, whispering, “Don’t say anything, come with me. My grandmother wants to see you.”