In August, the climate in Hangzhou is pleasant. Although in recent years, summer temperatures have been rising, by the West Lake, you can still feel the essence of “the shimmering water is best enjoyed in clear weather.” I leaned back in a lounge chair at the shop, flipping through the things I had organized over the past few months. It has been more than three months since I returned from Golmud, and I seem to have never fully recovered. The events that transpired were truly beyond my capacity to bear; I never imagined things would end in such a way.

For the past three months, I have been unable to escape the nightmare of that time. Every night, I dream of countless scenes from my experiences. But can I really break free? I truly doubt it. The turmoil in my heart has not diminished in the slightest with the revelation of those secrets. What others desperately try to hide must be something you do not wish to see; thus, pursuing someone else’s secrets inevitably comes with the burden of knowing them.

This is the final realization I have come to, but even the enigmatic “Menyouping” cannot escape such a fate. What can I do? How many people can keep a lifetime’s worth of questions bottled up inside them?

After returning, I wrote down everything that happened this past year, starting from my grandfather’s notes all the way to now, piece by piece. But I know that eventually, there will come a day when I will forget, just like the mask of my third uncle, which, after wearing for too long, becomes impossible to take off. Time always has a way of changing things; I just hope that day comes sooner rather than later.

In this entire affair, there are still many parts I do not understand. For instance, where is my real third uncle? What is the true identity of “Menyouping”? Where did childhood friend Wenjin go? What is the ultimate truth? Who built the massive underground ruins? What are the identities of Wenjin’s group, and what kind of plans are they carrying out?

These things remain one mystery after another. Initially, the latter questions troubled me the most, but looking at them now, they don’t seem that important anymore.

After “Menyouping” returned, we took him to the First Hospital of Peking University for a full-body check-up. His physical condition was basically fine, but his mind was still not very clear. We left him in the hospital with specialized care. However, this is not a long-term solution. I have asked some people in Changsha to help me understand “Menyouping’s” background, but so far, no one has responded.

Fatty said he has a way and might get some feedback. It seems that understanding the matters behind “Menyouping” is much more difficult than I thought. For now, I can only hope he recovers soon and provides us with some useful information. If not, we might have to take care of him for a lifetime, which perhaps wouldn’t be a bad thing for him.

Very few people get the chance to forget everything, and those lucky enough to forget desperately want to remember, creating a paradoxical cycle of willfulness. Frankly, I’m not afraid that he will never remember; rather, I fear that he might recall something but remain unclear about it.

Panzi was sent to the hospital, and it is a miracle that he survived; I still find it hard to believe. His injuries were not severe, and he recovered quickly.

Things are chaotic over in Changsha right now. Panzi told me that when the old buddies were still around, even if Third Uncle wasn’t there, the situation could still be controlled. But now it’s different; when the tree falls, the monkeys scatter, and there are rumors everywhere. He doesn’t know what to do. Fortunately, Third Uncle’s business has shrunk considerably due to Chen Pi and A Si’s interference; otherwise, it would be even harder to handle. He can only take it one step at a time. If it really doesn’t work out, he might have to break up the partnership. The money he has saved over the years is enough for him to live comfortably, so maybe it’s time for him to retire.

I told him to hurry up and find a girl to settle down with, and not to worry about Third Uncle’s business. Third Uncle is getting old, and he has no children; this matter will happen sooner or later. The accumulated issues are too deep for us to resolve.

Panzi didn’t react much. With Third Uncle’s life hanging in the balance, I think he will never find peace and might keep searching indefinitely. I can only wish him good luck.

When Fatty broke up, he went back to Beijing. He is the least affected person; he returned to business as usual. According to Panzi, this guy is not only cunning but also very deep, though I really can’t see where his depth lies. Before leaving, Fatty said a cliché: “The green mountains remain, and the clear waters flow; we shall meet again.” It sounded quite poignant, but if it weren’t for the time we spent together, risking our lives, it would be hard to appreciate the subtle melancholy behind such words.

Zaxi said goodbye to us in Golmud. If it weren’t for him, we definitely wouldn’t have made it out of the Tarim Basin, so at that time, we wanted to raise some money for him. Zaxi said that for him, this was a karmic event; being able to bring us out alive was already a blessing, and he couldn’t take our money. Later, I gave him my watch as a keepsake.

A Ning has died, and I have temporarily lost contact with Qiu Dekao’s company. I sent a few emails to acquaintances, but they all bounced back. I don’t know if they will continue. In any case, after this failure, that old ghost should have given up. If he persists, he can only rely on his own fortune.

Dust returns to dust, earth returns to earth; everyone’s life seems to have returned to a normal track. At that time, I had just returned to Hangzhou, continuing my nine-to-five life of modest comfort. Sitting in that rattan chair, I took a short nap. When I woke up, I idly flipped through my grandfather’s notes and suddenly felt as if time was flowing backward, as if I were in another world.

Zhuang Zhou dreamed of being a butterfly; upon waking, he didn’t know whether he was a butterfly dreaming of being a human or a human dreaming of being a butterfly. I used to find this profound, but now I suddenly understand his feelings. Everything from the past year feels like a dream, fleeting. Yet I also feel that I am still in the snake marsh, and the tranquility before me might just be my imagination before death.

Regardless of which it is, I want to accept it with joy. Sometimes, the end of something is more anticipated than the outcome of that something.

However, deep down in my heart, I know very well that it is still too early to say this matter has ended.