For more than an hour just now, I had been listening to that resentful, cold laughter-like signal all the way. My mind had almost gotten used to this sound, but now that the boat had suddenly fallen silent, I felt a bit uncomfortable. I don’t know why, but I heard the same sound again in the surrounding darkness. I had always felt something was off about that sound, and hearing it now made me feel very strange.

Although it could be a hallucination, it’s better not to assume anything in a place like this. I zipped up my jacket, turned on my flashlight, and walked over to check behind that rock.

The rock was quite irregular, and I couldn’t tell what kind of stone it was. This area was filled with earth mounds, and I wondered where these scattered stones had come from; they certainly couldn’t have grown from the ground.

Behind the rock was pitch black, with a corner that my flashlight couldn’t reach. I went around to shine my light there, but saw nothing. The gap behind the rock was small, making it unlikely to hide anything. I kicked the rock and found it unstable. I shone my light around again but saw nothing; everything was very calm. I thought to myself that maybe I really had misheard. Shaking my head, I walked back. Aning asked me what was wrong, and I told her I might be a bit overly sensitive, thinking there was something there.

I sat back down by the campfire to warm up. We sat in silence, and I leaned against the rock, intending just to rest my eyes, fearing that something else might require our help. However, fatigue overcame me, and I soon drifted off to sleep without realizing when.

When I woke up, it was already light outside, although not very bright, as if it were early morning. The wind had completely died down, and I heard Zaxi’s voice. I got up and saw that they had all come in, as if the camp outside had been moved inside. Tents and campfires were set up all around. The Caucasian man had been moved into a tent, and Aning was still resting in her sleeping bag, while others were busy around us.

I found a blanket over me, not knowing who had covered me. Struggling to get up and yawning, I looked around. At first glance, I was captivated by the wind-eroded rock scenery surrounding us, and I couldn’t help but stare for a moment.

During the day, the Devil City had an extremely broad view. The wind-eroded rocks looked much more spectacular in daylight than at night. The towering giant rocks stood around us like pyramids. Those rocks that appeared pitch black at night now revealed various strange shapes, combined with the boundless desolation of the Gobi Desert. This magnificent feeling is beyond what words can describe.

This was not a mature Yadan landform. If it were to be weathered by wind and sand for another million years, how spectacular would the scenery here become?

I stared blankly for a while before snapping back to reality, noticing the people around me. They were hauling things out from the sunken ship on the earth mound. The mound from last night was much taller than I had seen, with nails and ropes driven into it for climbing, and a basket had been made for hoisting. Some people were excavating at the top while Wu Laosi was below, receiving and sorting the items as they were lowered from the basket.

Ding Zhuoma and her daughter-in-law were cooking breakfast and butter tea. When she saw me wake up, she gestured for me to eat. I went over, had a bowl of tea, grabbed a piece of bread, and walked over to Wu Laosi, asking what they were doing.

Wu Laosi heard that I was an insider and had a bit of affection for me. When he saw me come over, he nodded and told me that the Caucasian’s injuries were quite serious. The team doctor was still examining his abdominal wounds, which showed signs of infection, so the team might have to retreat to regroup and make further plans. They didn’t want to return empty-handed; the sunken ship was considered a major discovery, and they wanted to document it and take something back to report to the company.

I sat down beside him and looked at the sunken ship above us—it was huge! At night, it didn’t seem that big. It looked like a proper merchant ship, and the bow had probably been exposed after a collapse of the earth, suspended in mid-air, supported by braces below.

I then looked down at the items they had cleared from inside. Those ceramic jars were each about the size of a toilet, and surprisingly, none of them were damaged, indicating that the sinking process must have been very slow. The jars were adorned with patterns unique to the Western Regions; some had black designs, while others resembled script, none of which belonged to the Han people. I asked what they were, and Wu Laosi shook his head, saying no one knew. The culture of the Western Regions was very special and mysterious, and artifacts were quite rare. With over five thousand years of history, so many cities and ancient towns had been buried by the Gobi sands. Researching them now was extremely difficult.

“However, these ancient ceramics are quite old. Generally, our trade in the Western Regions involves porcelain. These jars are products from the peak of pottery development, likely from before the Tang Dynasty. It’s unclear whether they were transported from the Central Plains to the Western Regions or from the Western Regions to the Arab world. This area should already be within the territory of the Western Queen Mother’s kingdom; I wonder if it has any relation to it,” said another person nearby, who wore glasses.

Wu Laosi nodded in agreement, saying, “I also think it’s very possible. Look.” He pointed to a pattern on one of the jars, depicting a bird. “This is the totem of the Western Queen Mother, the Three Blue Birds. Of course, it doesn’t exclude the possibility that people from other countries used it as well. At that time, the kingdom of the Western Queen Mother was still the spiritual center of the Western Regions, and due to its mysterious allure, even though it was no longer as powerful as during the Zhou Dynasty, other nations still revered the legends surrounding the Western Queen Mother and came to pay homage or express their worship in some form.”

I was completely uninterested in this; it belonged to the realm of archaeology. So I interrupted them and asked, “What’s inside the jar? It wouldn’t be empty, would it? That would be such a waste.”

The jar’s opening was sealed with a special kind of clay, green and black, somewhat like the clay seal on a wine jar. I smelled it; it had a slightly spicy scent that felt familiar. I lifted it a bit—it had some weight, so there must be something inside, but it wasn’t liquid.

I asked why they didn’t open it. Wu Laosi said they tried to avoid damaging these intact items. They would check for any damaged ones later, and if there were none, they wouldn’t need to open it. If the contents were precious and couldn’t withstand oxidation, this could save them from wasting archaeological resources.

I just smiled, thinking that my uncle and the others wouldn’t have this kind of restraint; if Fatty were here, he would definitely smash it open without hesitation.

However, we must respect other people’s methods of doing things. After finishing the last bite of my bread, I told him, “You all handle it yourselves for now. When you find the jar and are about to open it, call me.” With that, I walked into the Caucasian’s tent to check on his condition.

Upon entering the tent, I found it quite cramped. Upon closer inspection, I noticed that two other bodies had also been moved down, lying on one side covered with thermal blankets. The team doctor had not slept all night, and his eyelids were noticeably dark; he was measuring the Caucasian’s temperature.

I asked him about the situation, and he told me that the man was very confused and babbling, but there was some improvement compared to before. It seemed that suffocation and hypoxia were no longer issues; it was just that strange wound on his abdomen… He showed me the two bodies, which had the same kind of wounds—one on the chest and one on the inner thigh—both had a small amount of blood, but there were no holes in their outer clothing, and it was unclear how the wounds had occurred.

I walked over to the Caucasian. His face was pale, and he was sweating profusely, but he no longer needed the respirator, which clearly indicated that he had stabilized. I noticed his lips moving as if he was trying to say something. I leaned in to listen, but it wasn’t Chinese; it sounded like English.

“What is he saying?” I asked the team doctor. My English isn’t very good; I can handle business conversations, but I struggle with incoherent speech.

The team doctor shook his head, saying he couldn’t hear clearly either, as his English wasn’t good. However, after regaining some consciousness, the Caucasian kept muttering this.

I bent down, trying to listen more closely, but it was still no use, so I had to give up. I stepped out of the tent, wanting to go back and get some more sleep since there was nothing for me to do here.

When I reached the sleeping area, I lay down and pondered over the events of last night. I quickly dozed off, and I don’t know how long I slept, but suddenly I heard someone calling my name. Groggily, I sat up and looked over to see many people gathered around Wu Lao Si, who was waving at me, as if something was going on.

I got up and walked over. As I got closer, I smelled an extremely strange odor. It wasn’t exactly a foul smell, but it made my throat sting, as if I had inhaled sulfuric gas, which was very uncomfortable. I covered my nose and leaned in to see what was happening; it turned out they had found several damaged jars and were breaking them open. Wu Lao Si wanted me to take a look.

About a dozen jars had already been smashed, and Wu Lao Si was pouring out the contents one by one. The first thing I saw was mud flakes; the inside was filled with black dry mud flakes, and among these flakes were some clay balls, all covered in mud and very disgusting. Strangely, I noticed that the surface of these balls was stuck with a lot of black hair, which looked very wrong.

There were already a dozen clay balls piled up on one side, and I wondered if they were the watermelons from years ago that had now turned to stone.

As I got closer and took a closer look, I felt a wave of suffocation. I realized that those mud balls were actually human heads wrapped in dry mud, and the black hair was indeed human hair.