Chapter 52: The Arrival of the Black Storm

I had heard of the water monkey before, but after thinking about it, I realized we were in a desert region. That creature was typically found along coastal areas—how could it possibly exist here, and for so long, too? It was odd, but I didn’t dwell on the question for long.

When I returned to the camp, chaos had already taken hold. Zayi was nowhere to be found, and he’d taken the camels with him. Clearly, he wasn’t someone you could rely on. Old Ghost and the others were missing as well, which was probably for the best—running into them would only have spelled trouble.

“That guy really is no good—he actually ran off,” someone in our group complained angrily.

I shook my head. After all, he was just there to do a job for money. When things went south, it wasn’t surprising he’d bolt. The only issue was, it would be a tough journey on foot from here. Still, griping wouldn’t change anything. So, everyone listlessly began to pack up. Thankfully, our archaeological work had yielded significant discoveries this time, which helped lift some of the gloom. A few days trekking through the desert wasn’t the end of the world.

We ditched some of the heavier supplies on the spot, though the instruments, of course, couldn’t be abandoned. We dismantled them and stowed the parts in our packs, figuring we could reassemble them once we got back. Soon, everyone was ready, and we set off. Li Ling took the lead with the map, and I followed behind. We walked under the sun for an entire day. None of us were experienced desert travelers, and as night fell, we’d failed to find a suitable resting spot in advance.

Normally, this might not have been such a big deal, but we soon regretted our oversight. Wind is common in the desert, but wind at night is never a good sign—especially when it grows stronger and whips up sand that stings the eyes. I urged everyone to shield their faces and stick close together; the most crucial thing was to find shelter from the wind.

I noticed Li Ling’s face had turned pale, so I asked what was wrong.

She replied, “I made a mistake. No matter the weather, when night falls in the desert, you must find a sheltered place to rest. Look—”

She pointed to the distant horizon. There, the sky was darkening, and the blackness was dense and ominous. In this vast expanse, with endless desert below and limitless sky above, the sight of those heavy, oppressive clouds was deeply unsettling.

“I’ve read in many magazines and books that desert nights are extremely dangerous. There are many hazards, but the weather is one of the biggest. Look there—those clouds are a sign that a black sandstorm is coming. Damn it, how did we end up running into a black sandstorm? We need to find shelter immediately or we’ll be in real danger.”

Li Ling was always composed, and for her to sound so anxious meant things were truly dire. It was the first time I’d ever heard her speak in such a tone.

No one dared to be careless. Fixing their eyes on the advancing sandstorm, they pressed forward. In this weather, you could barely see a thing. Losing your way in the desert was terrifying. I told everyone to hold hands and not get separated. I grabbed Li Ling and Anna’s hands tightly, forcing myself to march forward.

“I saw a small hill ahead through my binoculars earlier! Let’s head there!” Li Ling shouted to me.

“Alright!” I called back.

Her sense of direction was excellent, so I didn’t bother checking myself—I just gripped their hands tightly. Anna held on to Yang Xue, and in the swirling dust I could only make out the three of them. As for who Yang Xue was holding, the sandstorm was too intense to see clearly.

The wind grew stronger with every step, and each movement was an effort. Yang Xue was so petite that Anna struggled to keep hold of her; I wondered if letting go would mean she’d be blown away. Several times I nearly sank into the sand, but I forced myself onward. After about half an hour, the wind began to ease a little, and I saw a pile of black rocks ahead. The heap was large enough to crawl inside—a natural stone cave. I quickly ushered everyone in to take shelter.

The space inside was just enough for us. Soon, everyone had stumbled in, and I was the last. We sat on the ground, panting heavily. No one spoke. At that moment, Li Ling began to count heads—always the meticulous one. But to our dismay, we were missing two people—both girls. I asked who’d been at the back. A burly student named Wang Zhi looked stunned.

“That’s impossible, I was holding Wang Yuanyuan’s hand!”

Suddenly, he cried out, “Wait, I remember! The wind was so strong, I lost my grip once, but I grabbed on again right away. Did I… did I take the wrong hand?”

It dawned on me: when he lost his grip, the two girls must have been blown off course and separated from the group. Wang Zhi had grabbed someone else’s hand ahead. The others began blaming Wang Zhi, who hung his head in shame, cursing himself.

This wouldn’t solve anything, so I prepared to go out and search for the missing girls.

An older staff member named Zhang voiced his doubts, “Search? How? The sandstorm out there is a black storm—if someone’s lost, there’s no way you’ll find them…”

I clenched my teeth and looked at him, then at Li Ling. She was clearly anxious; these students were her responsibility, all so young. If anything happened, how could she ever explain it? Every one of them was a precious child to their families—any mishap would be a disaster.

“We can’t just stand by and do nothing! I’ll go look for them. The rest of you stay here!” I said resolutely.

As I moved to leave, Wang Zhi stood up. “I’ll go with you. Two of us will have a better chance.”

I thought: at least the kid has some guts. Liang Qiu wanted to join as well. As he stood, so did the other boys and staff. Even those who didn’t want to go felt compelled to volunteer.

But too many people would only create more risk—if anyone else got lost, it would be even worse. So I told Wang Zhi to come with me and ordered the rest to stay put. Li Ling handed me a compass. The others, hearing my instructions, seemed relieved and sat back down.

Without another word, I plunged into the swirling sand outside. Dusk had already fallen. The black sandstorm raged, blotting out everything. Wang Zhi shouted over the roar, “Brother Yun! How are we supposed to find them?!”

“How the hell should I know?!” I yelled back.

I shouted without thinking and began retracing our steps. But in this weather, it was impossible to tell directions. Thankfully, we had a compass. I followed it, bracing against the gale, nearly being knocked over several times. Wang Zhi, big and strong—clearly a basketball player—helped keep us both upright as we leaned on each other and moved forward.

To be honest, I had no idea whether we could find the two girls. Searching for someone in these conditions was nearly hopeless. I wanted to call out their names, but opening my mouth only brought a mouthful of sand, and even shouting would never carry far in this storm.

Before long, Wang Zhi and I were exhausted. We’d barely rested before coming out, so our stamina was failing. Wang Zhi, tired, squatted down. I hauled him to his feet. “You want to be buried out here?” I shouted.

We staggered a few more steps, but I too was reaching my limit. Everything around us looked unfamiliar. I realized with dread that we might have gone the wrong way. Checking the compass, I saw it had malfunctioned—I didn’t know when it had failed, but no matter how I turned, the needle turned with me. Damn—if it had stopped working, we’d been heading in the wrong direction all along. Now, not only could we not find the girls, but even we were lost.

I peered into the gloom. The wind had lessened a bit, but visibility was still poor. I thought I saw a slope ahead and dragged Wang Zhi toward it. Sure enough, there was a small rise, and to my surprise, some desert vegetation—a sign of an oasis, perhaps?

That was my first thought. Excited, I pulled Wang Zhi along. We found ourselves at the edge of a depression. I hurried him down the slope, but the wind and our exhaustion sent us tumbling to the bottom.

There, in the dim light, I saw a patch of forest—and within it, buildings. Could this be a village?

The wind and sand were minimal here; the low-lying terrain created a basin. Even more importantly, there was water—a small lake, not large, but enough to support the surrounding desert flora. The village sat by the water’s edge, surrounded by strange, towering trees I couldn’t name.

“Brother Yun, this place is creepy. Shouldn’t we wait outside for the storm to pass?” Wang Zhi said nervously.

I led him toward the village. He was clearly uneasy, but I reasoned that even if the place was inhabited, or abandoned, it was unlikely to pose any danger. I reassured him: the black sandstorm wouldn't pass quickly, and we needed to find something to eat—we’d left in such a hurry, we hadn’t brought our bags.

With that, we pressed on toward the mysterious settlement.