Chapter Two: The Messenger

The Fat Man dazedly noticed the expression on my face and immediately asked, "What... is wrong with you?"

I was completely frozen in place, as if my brain had entirely lost the ability to process thoughts.

"On the road, I got word of the eldest sister, to the mulberry garden nine miles away... visiting... Lanying... passing three miles of Peach Blossom Ferry... walking through six miles of Apricot Blossom Village... crossing the seven-treasure gazebo... the mulberry garden appears before my eyes. Behold, a mulberry orchard so lush, homes numbering in the tens... That side bamboo fence and thatched cottage tightly enclosed, could it be the Yang family's residence, let me step forward and push the door open..."

This seemed to be the very passage my mother used to sing when she held my hand and walked along the road back then... Heavens, how could this be!

I sprang up from the floor with a start and dashed into the bathroom, plunging my head under cold water. I figured my mind was too chaotic, that my memory had somehow malfunctioned, especially since I was so drunk. That scene was practically my only memory of my mother. For all these years, I could never recall what she sang back then; why would I suddenly remember it now?

However, after rinsing my head with cold water to clear my mind, that memory only grew increasingly vivid.

I slapped my forehead hard and crouched on the floor in agony.

I had no recollection whatsoever of how I got through that night, and when I woke up, it was already the afternoon of the next day. I was lying in bed, still covered with a quilt.

Stepping out of the bedroom, I saw the television in the living room was on. I sluggishly sat down on the sofa, but the Fat Man was nowhere in sight. Just as I was about to call out to him, I heard voices coming from the guest room.

I muttered to myself, what on earth is that damn fatty muttering about in there by himself? I walked over, pushed the door open, and was instantly dumbfounded.

First, I was choked by a cloud of smoke filling the dozen-square-meter guest room. Five or six people were sitting inside, all puffing away on cigarettes.

Waving my hand to clear the air, I looked again and was stunned to see that sitting in the room, besides the Fat Man, were Qin Feng, Dad, Second Uncle, Xiaohu, and two crew members I did not recognize.

Seeing my bewildered expression, all of them burst into laughter.

"Big Brother, it looks like Yuanzi still has to come with us after all," Second Uncle laughed heartily.

"You... how did you guys get here?" I looked back and forth among them. "Didn't you say it would be a few more days?"

The Fat Man was sitting on the bed picking at his toes. After he smilingly explained the situation to me, I cast a thoroughly depressed look at Dad.

It turned out that the old man still didn't want to bring me along this time. But having already promised me previously, he felt too guilty to sneak off directly behind my back. So he put on a show by having the Fat Man keep me company, drink with me, and get me plastered. He wanted to take the people and leave while I was passed out, so that later he could pin the blame on me for ruining things due to drinking.

"Hmph. You should be thanking your Fat Lord here," the Fat Man said, glaring at my dad. "If I had deliberately set out to get you hammered last night, you might not even have been able to get up today."

Qin Feng chimed in, "Damn fatty, you really are a troublemaker. The Old Master is financing this trip, yet you still pull stunts like this."

It turned out Qin Feng didn't want me to go either, primarily because he felt following along was simply too dangerous.

The Fat Man hardened his expression. "I'm not selling my soul; what business is it of yours? Damn it, you a bunch of bumpkins have zero sense of humor. Traveling all this way would bore your Fat Lord to death. Having a young lady along makes all the difference."

With that, the Fat Man even shot me a seductive wink. I was in no mood to bicker and shouted straight at my dad, "You've gone way too far! We agreed..."

"Fine, fine, fine. Your old man has wronged you, alright?" Dad cut me off immediately. "Since you're already mixed up in this, hurry up and pack your things so we can move out."

"What! We're leaving right now?" I thought to myself that I hadn't even eaten breakfast yet.

Turning my head, I saw numerous identification documents laid out on the bed. Picking them up, I realized they were all fake IDs—about twenty of them, including the Fat Man's and Dad's. After searching for a long time without finding my own, I glared at Dad.

Reluctantly, Dad pulled an ID card out of his pocket and had Qin Feng hand it to me.

I snatched it with a huff, thinking no wonder these guys didn't stay in the living room and hid in here instead—they were already making travel arrangements.

While packing my things, I was extremely worried that Dad might ditch me and run off with the crew. Fortunately, the Fat Man gave me a reassuring wink, which kept me from panicking.

Without further ado, our party left Beijing at one o'clock that afternoon.

Because the commotion this time was considerable, Second Uncle arranged the entire journey with extreme secrecy. Flying was definitely out of the question; we had to switch vehicles repeatedly and make prolonged stops along the way. Fearing police surveillance, Second Uncle and Dad had also set up various decoy movements. In short, just getting to Xinjiang would take us nearly a month.

Troublesome as it was, these measures were necessary. Moreover, doing so had one advantage: by the time we reached Xinjiang, autumn would have just set in, and the weather would be slightly more favorable.

This was my first time participating in such a systematic tomb-roading operation, and a very strange feeling welled up inside me. Every time I saw police officers on the road, I would panic inwardly.

Being a grave robber truly was a miserable existence: you feared the police on the road, the restless dead once you entered the tomb, your peers trying to murder you at any moment, and having to fence stolen treasures on the sly for pennies... Yet, despite all this, it failed to mask the excitement and curiosity surging in my heart.

The Mirage Snow Forbidden City.

What an evocative name, bound to spark wild imagination. What kind of sights would we find in there? Was it even larger than the King of Yelang's tomb? What bizarre and eerie phenomena would I witness inside?

Everything remained an unknown variable, but what troubled me the most right now was: would Peanut rendezvous with us as promised?

In the vehicle, the Fat Man sensed my inner thoughts.

"Don't worry. Since Xiaoge said he would, he'll definitely find us. Given how proactive he is about helping your Yuan family this time, who knows, maybe you'll be on the same side in the future."

Helping our Yuan family? I remained noncommittal.

Peanut could not possibly be doing this for the sake of our old Yuan family. What he was truly aiming for would only become clear once we reached our destination. I had previously suspected whether Peanut might use this opportunity to deal with Dad, but after hearing Dad's account in Wenxing Village, I felt things wouldn't be that simple. Even I could foresee this; Dad must have anticipated it all as well.

I couldn't help but sigh as I gazed out the window, thinking that the contest between these two tai chi masters certainly wouldn't yield a result anytime soon.

Following the autumn wind, we finally arrived in Ürümqi. Although it couldn't compare to Tibet, encountering the air here for the first time still felt somewhat unaccommodating.

Xinjiang occupied one-sixth of the nation's territory and served as the geographical center of the Eurasian landmass. Aside from plateaus and hills, its most famous feature was the vast and boundless Gobi Desert.

For two days, we drove across the Heshun Gobi. It was then that I learned what true desolation meant. Looking out from the vehicle, everything all around was a terrifying shade of gray. The horrifying part of the desert wasn't that it was completely empty, but that it was littered with unrecognizable objects scattered everywhere.

Occasionally, we would spot the skeletal remains of animals. Sometimes, we even saw dead humans exposed in the wilderness.

By nightfall, the wind across the Gobi sounded like the tragic wails of a woman, chilling anyone who heard it to the bone. The temperature fluctuation between day and night here was extreme. During the day, everyone wore short-sleeved shirts, but at night inside the vehicles, we wrapped ourselves in heavy down quilts. For those two days, I slept very little, hearing that terrifying wind even in my dreams.

The hardest hit were the drivers working the night shift. Dealing with the wind alone was one thing, but standing mysteriously by the roadside illuminated by the headlights, a figure could practically turn someone's hair white from fright. In such bitter cold and howling wind, who would possibly be standing out in the barren Gobi?

The Fat Man said the most terrifying hazard in the Gobi was something called a "Great Sinking Pit." It appeared to be a form of quicksand, but compared to ordinary quicksand or marshes, the Great Sinking Pit was far more bizarre because it could move on its own. A pit located somewhere on the west side today might crawl beneath the roadway by tomorrow.

Once anything stepped onto a Great Sinking Pit—whether a person or an entire convoy—there was absolutely no escaping it. Therefore, many locals who stepped into a Great Sinking Pit chose not to struggle or cry for help, but instead slit their own throats with a carried blade at the appropriate moment, granting themselves a swift death.

Fortunately, we had no intention of lingering here, and our vehicles soon reached the Turpan Depression. Crossing the Tianshan Mountains, Ürümqi came into view.

Our primary purpose here was to rendezvous with Third Uncle. All of our equipment had been procured abroad by Little Aunt and smuggled directly through Afghanistan to Tashkurgan.

In Ürümqi, we needed to gather local intelligence from Third Uncle, and most importantly, the entire party had to rest and recuperate for a few days. The crew members who followed us numbered over twenty, and Third Uncle had another dozen or so local hands.

Although they weren't part of our old Yuan family's faction, firstly, Dad believed the Mirage Snow Forbidden City could never be found by just a handful of people; and secondly, these Uyghur men could communicate with the locals, and every single one of them was tall, sturdy, and clearly possessed some capability.

Though arduous, the journey had been smooth, and Dad confirmed that no police were tailing us.

Thus, that very evening, after Third Uncle helped us secure a hotel, everyone headed out to the night market to gorge themselves on Big Plate Chicken.

Although Ürümqi was located in China's northwest, it was by no means inferior to other major cities. The night market was bustling with noise and excitement, dominated by tourists; the tables right around us conversed in a variety of different dialects and languages.

The Fat Man was having the time of his life. Heaven knows what kind of charm he possessed, but within a short while, he was getting along swimmingly with the Uyghur crew members. Qin Feng couldn't stand the Fat Man; once seated, he simply buried his head in his food, occasionally rolling his eyes whenever he heard the Fat Man boasting to the others.

I thought to myself, why torture yourself like this? I originally wanted to share a few drinks with him, but Third Uncle kept chattering incessantly in my ear about how wonderful Uyghur girls supposedly were.

Judging by his lecherous look, this old goat clearly wanted to take me out for a taste of nightlife tonight, so I decisively distanced myself from him. I was done getting mixed up in shady, chaotic business.

Third Uncle cast a scornful glance at my way and muttered under his breath, "Don't think that just because you graduated from university, you can act all high and mighty with me. Tsk, you've even tasted the flavor of the living dead..."

My expression instantly shifted, and I slammed my hand on the table. "Say that again and we're going to have a problem!"

The others assumed I was just acting wild from the alcohol. Second Uncle shot me a warning look, signaling me to rein it in.

Turning my head, I noticed several tables nearby staring right at me. Slamming a table at a dining spot was generally bad form, so I nodded apologetically to the onlookers.

Just as I was about to turn my gaze back, I suddenly noticed that a few people sitting one table away from us were glaring intently in our direction. Those gazes were clearly not the kind meant for watching a casual spectacle.

I covertly glanced back a few times and discovered that all five young men staring at us were quite young, with one individual sitting with his back turned to us. Although they had ordered plenty of dishes, they hardly touched them, keeping their eyes locked on us without exchanging a word among themselves.

Feeling extremely uneasy, I signaled Dad and the others.

Second Uncle followed my line of sight, his brow furrowing as well.

"Could they be cops?" I whispered to Second Uncle.

By this time, our table had also quieted down. The Fat Man wanted to ask what was wrong, but Qin Feng pinched him hard. Though annoyed, the Fat Man knew when to read the room.

Once he spotted those individuals too, Dad gave a direct wave, called the waiter to settle the bill, and our entire party immediately departed the establishment.

Thinking we had put enough distance between us, I glanced back. Those young men at the table remained unchanged: five of them staring straight at us, while the sixth still hadn't moved.

Once we were out of the night market, Dad asked Third Uncle with a hint of anger, "What is the meaning of this? Who are those people? Why are they tailing us?"

Third Uncle wore an equally baffled expression. "I have no idea. When I'm by myself, no one ever tails me like this. Maybe they recognized my Uyghur hands, or else you must have provoked someone along the way."

Third Uncle's knack for shifting blame hadn't changed one bit.

"Third Uncle, this is your turf; you better figure this out," I said worriedly.

"Do you even need to say that? I've already arranged for men to trail them. Whoever they are, as long as they're in Ürümqi, there's nothing I don't know about."

After Third Uncle made that grandiose boast, the rest of us reserved our judgment.

Since our welcoming dinner was ruined, Third Uncle felt his face was on the line. He found a higher-end restaurant, allowing our group of over twenty to eat until one in the morning before finally sending us back to the hotel.

The damn Fat Man snored like thunder, yet insisted on squeezing into the same room as me, literally kicking Xiaohu out.

While the Fat Man was showering in the bathroom, I sat alone in a chair watching television. For some reason, my thoughts drifted back to those individuals earlier; I felt their gazes were exceptionally unsettling. Strangely enough, the more I thought about it, the more familiar the back of that seated man appeared.

Where had I seen him before?

After pondering for a long time without results, the Fat Man emerged from the bathroom. Just as I was getting ready to strip down and shower, a sudden, urgent knocking echoed at the door.

The Fat Man was busy styling his hair with a blow dryer while muttering to himself, so he told me to answer it.

"What if it's a hotel escort girl?" I asked casually.

Staring at his reflection in the mirror, the Fat Man replied, "If she's pretty, have her leave a phone number. Your Fat Lord will look her up after I finish my grand mission."

It was meant as a joke, but when I pulled the door open—whoa! A woman was actually standing outside.

I was practically ready to ask for her phone number on the Fat Man's behalf, but then I realized this woman's attire didn't resemble that line of work at all. She dressed quite formally, possessed an air of refinement, and most importantly, she was lugging a travel suitcase.

"Uhm, who are you looking for?" I figured she must have walked into the wrong room.

The woman was under thirty, the sort of refined, aristocratic beauty. She looked me up and down, glanced into the room a few times, and asked, "You must be Yuan Jie, right?"

I blinked. "Yes, oh no, I, I didn't do... wait." I suddenly remembered I was traveling under a fake ID name—what was it again?

The woman smiled and extended a hand toward me. "Very well, even if you won't admit it, it doesn't matter. I'm just here to drop off a message and leave."

A jolt ran through my heart. I had never laid eyes on this person before; how did she know my name? We had just arrived in Ürümqi, and if she could track me down this easily, didn't that mean she likely knew about our operation as well?

My guard instantly went up.

"Don't look so surprised. He's the one who sent me." With that, the woman suddenly shoved an object into my palm.

I caught it, took one look, and nearly cried out before suppressing my voice to a whisper: "Peanut."

The item pressed into my hand was literally a single peanut.

"He asked me to tell you that he's currently at the equipment cache in Tashkurgan, so you can stop worrying," the woman said.

"So, you're, you're with him?" Peanut had mentioned earlier that he needed to make some preparations, but I never imagined the guy would prepare a woman.

Unconsciously, I began scrutinizing her, feeling that while she was quite striking, she seemed utterly mismatched with a guy like Peanut.

Indifferent to my gaze, she continued, "I've delivered your message. Shouldn't you thank me?"

"Tsk, then, what do you want me to do to thank you?" I thought to myself: *Offer myself in marriage?*

"You can deliver a message for me, too," the woman smiled faintly.

"Deliver what message, and to whom?"

"Tell your father that I will definitely arrive ahead of him."

Her words sounded utterly bizarre, and I silently concluded this woman was definitely an insider in our circle.

"Stop acting so mysterious. My dad is right here; if you have something to say, just tell him directly. Who on earth are you?" I grew increasingly impatient.

The woman smiled even more smugly. Then, a man's voice suddenly emerged from her throat: "What do you think?"

I instinctively took two steps back, instantly freezing in place.

After speaking, the woman turned around and wheeled her suitcase toward the elevator.

I was certain that I was familiar with that voice from somewhere, though it hadn't clicked immediately. Watching her walk away step by step, I frantically searched my memory for the source of that voice.

The elevator doors chimed shut! Ding!

It hit me instantly.

The Fat Man, wondering why I had been lingering at the door for so long, walked out.

"What are you messing around with? Damn it, don't tell me you fancied an escort girl and were negotiating prices?" The Fat Man looked left and right, seeing no one.

My eyes nearly popping out of my sockets, I sprinted toward the elevator and yelled back at the Fat Man, "Chase her!"

"What do you think?"

I thought to myself, there's no mistake—wasn't that the voice of Yang Lang from Professor Chen's team earlier? And if Yang Lang was actually someone in disguise, then wasn't the woman just now... Big Sister!