The first leg of the journey started from Bosten Lake, heading southwest. We followed the Peacock River westward until we found an ancient riverbed leading south. Bosten, which means “standing,” got its name from three hills rising in the middle of the lake. In ancient times, this lake was also called Fish Sea, as it is the largest inland freshwater lake in China. The Peacock River originates here and flows deep into the Taklamakan Desert. As we passed by the lake, the vast blue waters were mesmerizing, creating an illusion that we had reached the end of the world.
In the first two days of our journey, the professor’s three students were full of excitement. They were all young and experiencing the desert for the first time, finding it both fresh and fun. They imitated the old man An Liman’s whistle to command the camels and playfully chased each other while singing.
I felt the urge to join them in their fun, but as the leader of the archaeological team, I had to maintain a serious demeanor. So, I straightened up on my camel, trying to appear more imposing.
According to An Liman, this initial stretch of the journey wasn’t really desert. The ancient riverbed of the Peacock River existed before the river changed course, and some sections still had water. The surrounding sand was shallow, with small lakes scattered about. Occasionally, a group of red-billed gulls and diving ducks could be seen on the water’s surface. Along the bends of the Peacock River, there were small patches of oasis with sand jujubes, poplars, and some shrubs.
Once we passed this river bend, we would truly enter the desert. The Peacock River turned southeast, leading to Loulan, Lop Nur, and Danya, while we continued southwest into the “Black Desert.” An Liman said the Black Desert was created by Khuda as a punishment for greedy heretics. Countless cities and treasures were buried in the desert, but no one could retrieve them. Even if you took a single gold coin, you would lose your way in the Black Desert, forever buried by the sands and never able to escape.
This was a highly mobile desert, with strong winds shifting the dunes, changing the landscape daily. The ancient riverbed had long vanished. Thankfully, An Liman’s keen eyes spotted ancient castles, houses, and towers half-buried in the sand, with only their rooftops visible; poplars leaning at a thirty-degree angle due to the fierce winds; and small tamarisk plants scattered throughout the desert. These clues formed a line, indicating that the ancient riverbed of the Peacock River once passed through here. At the end of this lost riverbed lay the legendary abandoned city of Jingjue, left behind by Khuda.
In the desert, the most striking sight was the ancient poplar trees, which had stood for thousands of years. If I hadn’t seen them with my own eyes, who would believe that there are trees in the desert? Each tree resembled a powerful dragon, with its branches stretching crookedly toward the east, as if the dragon were racing through the desert. Despite enduring such harsh conditions for over a thousand years, these trees had long since withered, their trunks nearly flattened against the ground by the wind and sand, yet they still stood tall.
As the first rays of sunlight rose from the eastern horizon, they painted the clouds in shades of red. The undulating sand dunes in the vast desert were bathed in a layer of rosy light, and the dry poplars and rippling yellow sand glowed in golden-red hues, creating a magnificent scene that felt like a grand painting between heaven and earth.
To avoid the scorching midday sun, we traveled through the night. Just as fatigue began to set in, we were invigorated by the sight before us. Shirley Yang exclaimed, “The desert is so beautiful! Oh my God, look at that poplar; it’s like a golden dragon in the desert!” She took out her camera and snapped photos, eager to capture the breathtaking scenery.
While everyone was enchanted by the beauty, I noticed An Liman staring intently at the rising sun in the east, a hint of unease on his face. I approached him and asked, “Old man, what’s wrong? Is a storm coming?” I had heard the saying that a red morning sky is a bad omen, suggesting that trouble might be on the horizon.
This was already the fifth day since we set out, and the third day in the Black Desert. Ahead lay the ruins of the ancient city of Xiye, which we had planned to reach by tomorrow. However, An Liman warned that a strong storm was approaching, one that even a sand wall wouldn’t be able to block. If we didn’t make it to the ruins of Xiye, we risked being buried alive in the desert.
Hearing An Liman’s words, I realized this was no joke. We still had half a day’s journey to the ruins of Xiye, and if anything went wrong along the way, it could lead to trouble. After traveling all night, everyone was exhausted, and it was uncertain whether the teammate could keep up.
I jumped onto my camel to urge everyone to move quickly, but I saw An Liman slowly getting off his camel. He took out a blanket, leisurely spread it on the yellow sand, knelt on it with his eyes half-closed, and raised his hands to the sky in a gesture of prayer. Then he covered his face and began to chant loudly.
He was praying to the Almighty, a daily ritual for him. Seeing him so calm, I thought the storm he mentioned might not be as serious as he said, so I relaxed and joined Fatty, Shirley Yang, and the others to enjoy the beauty of the desert.
However, after finishing his prayer, An Liman seemed to transform. His body tightened like a wound spring, and in a few swift motions, he rolled up the blanket and sprang back onto his camel. He let out a long whistle, shouting, “Hurry up! If we’re late, we’ll be buried in the hell of black sand!” He urged his camel to lead the way.
I cursed under my breath, “That damn old man.” In such an urgent situation, he had just taken his time to pray, and now he was racing ahead. I quickly called for everyone to get moving.
The camels sensed the danger in the sky and went wild, galloping through the desert with their hooves pounding the sand. Normally, riding a camel was a swaying, amusing experience, but when they ran, it became a rough ride. We clung tightly to the camel’s back, fearing we might fall off if we lost our grip.
The caravan raced through the desert, kicking up a cloud of yellow sand that swirled like a giant dragon. Everyone put on their goggles and covered their noses and mouths with scarves. I looked around and felt increasingly uneasy. The camels had lost control, their eyes wide and panting as they followed An Liman’s lead, running like a whirlwind. It seemed the situation was even more urgent and dangerous than I had anticipated.
I was most worried that someone might get thrown off by the camels. I wanted to shout to An Liman to slow down, but I couldn’t even open my mouth without getting a mouthful of sand.
I could only keep looking around, counting the number of people on the camel’s hump. By noon, even though the camels were strong and agile, they were sweating heavily and had to slow down. Thankfully, no one had fallen behind.
An Liman urged everyone to quickly eat some dry food and drink more water, telling us not to worry about running out. Below the ruins of Xiye City, we could find underground water sources to replenish our supplies. After eating and drinking enough, we let the camels rest a bit since we were not far from our destination, but we had to keep moving or we would be late.
Everyone took out their flatbreads and dried meat, eating a few bites. Fatty and I were concerned about the scholars, so we asked them if they were okay.
Professor Chen, who was older, was gasping for breath from the bumpy ride and couldn’t say a word. The youngest student, Ye Yixin, was feeling sick and had thrown up a few times. They both only managed to drink a little water and couldn’t eat anything.
The most urgent case was Hao Aiguo, whose glasses had fallen off, leaving him unable to see anything. He was panicking, but luckily, graduate student Sa Dipeng also wore glasses and had a spare pair that fit Hao Aiguo’s prescription, solving his immediate problem.
Shirley Yang and another tall student, Chu Jian, seemed fine. Especially Shirley, perhaps due to her adventurous father or her upbringing in America, she had a strong spirit of adventure and good physical fitness. Even after a sleepless night and running in the desert for half a day, she still looked energetic, busy helping An Liman secure the supplies on the camels.
A gentle breeze swept over the sand dunes, stirring up fine sand. In the distance, the sky gradually turned a dark yellow. An Liman shouted, “The wind is coming! No more resting! May Allah protect us; with so many of us, we need to escape quickly!”
The members of the archaeological team, exhausted, climbed back onto the camels. At this point, they didn’t care about the camels’ stamina and urged them to run.
The clear sky seemed to darken in an instant as the wind picked up, lifting more and more sand into the air. We were surrounded by a thick cloud of dust, and visibility dropped rapidly. In the chaos, I quickly counted the number of people in our group again. Including myself, there were eight of us. Who had fallen behind?
The wind grew stronger, and the sandstorm raged on, enveloping everything in a dark yellow haze. I couldn’t see who had fallen behind, but the caravan had just come down the dune, only about a hundred meters away. It was still possible to go back and look for them.
The first person I thought of was Shirley Yang. If something happened to her, our money would be lost. But I quickly dismissed that thought; it was a bit selfish. While American lives are indeed precious, our Chinese lives are not worth any less. We couldn’t let anyone fall behind.
Next to me was Fatty, the only person I could recognize. I wanted to talk to him, but the wind and sand were too strong for me to open my mouth. Instead, I gestured to him, trying to signal that he should stop An Liman, who was running ahead.
But in that moment of delay, the camels had already sprinted several meters ahead. I didn’t have time to check if Fatty understood me, and before I knew it, I had tumbled off the galloping camel.
The footprints of the camels in the desert were already blurred by the wind and sand, and they would soon disappear. I ran against the wind in the direction we had come from, feeling as if my body was as light as paper. Each step felt uncontrollable, as if I could be swept away by the fierce wind at any moment. All I could hear was the howling wind.
After stumbling for nearly two hundred meters, I finally spotted someone lying on the sand dune where we had rested earlier. The person was half-buried in sand, and I couldn’t tell if the person were alive or dead. I rushed over and pulled him out of the yellow sand.
It turned out to be Professor Chen. He hadn’t been well earlier, and it seemed that in the rush to escape on the camels, he had been thrown off. He was still alive but too frightened to speak. When he saw me, he got so excited that he fainted.
The wind and sand were fierce, but I knew this was just the prelude to a desert storm. The real violent winds could arrive at any moment. I couldn’t waste a second. I hoisted him onto my back and turned around. Thankfully, the footprints I had just made were still visible. I prayed that Fatty had managed to stop An Liman, who was running like a rabbit.
I tried to walk down the sand dune with Professor Chen on my back, but the wind was too strong. As soon as I took a step, I lost my footing, and we both tumbled down the slope. In the yellow haze, someone helped me up. It was Fatty; he had understood my signal and had stabbed a camel in the rear to catch up with An Liman. He tackled An Liman off the camel, and when the lead camel stopped, the others followed suit, only one camel, injured, ran off madly and quickly disappeared into the swirling sand.
Fortunately, they hadn’t run too far; otherwise, we wouldn’t have been able to find them. At that moment, no one could speak; we could only gesture. If someone understood, great; if not, just follow along. Everyone prepared to climb back onto the camels to escape.
However, the camels seemed terrified and wouldn’t move. No matter how much An Liman whipped them, they wouldn’t listen, huddling together and burying their heads in the sand.
We had seen many camel skeletons along the way, all in the same position, as if they were sinners awaiting punishment. An Liman said these camels were scared stiff by the black sandstorm. They knew the storm was coming, and running was useless, so they simply knelt down and waited to die.
Faced with this sudden situation, we were at a loss. Were we really going to wait to be buried alive in the yellow sand? That would be unbearable. Just when we were feeling hopeless, Shirley Yang grabbed my arm and pointed to the west, signaling us to look over there.
Through the swirling sand, a huge white figure was running toward us, and it was getting closer. But the wind was so loud that no one could hear anything. Instinctively, I took down the sports rifle from the camel’s back. This small-caliber rifle was what we had prepared to deal with wolves. Everyone ignored the wind and focused on the white figure. What could it be? It didn’t look like a person.
The white shadow approached us like a ghost, and in an instant, it was right beside us. It was a camel, twice the size of a normal one, with a single hump and completely snow-white, standing out starkly against the yellow sand.
“Wild camel!” Several people who recognized this type of camel exclaimed in unison.
The main difference between ordinary camels and wild camels, aside from their size, is that domesticated camels have two humps, while wild camels have only one.
Through the swirling sand, I could almost see the light in Old An’s eyes—a joyful spark of life amidst despair. He excitedly waved his arms, praising the great god Khuda. The camels that had been kneeling in the sand seemed to respond to some call, lifting their heads from the sand.
I didn’t fully understand what was happening, but instinctively, I realized that we still had a chance to survive. We just needed to follow this white wild camel; it was a creature of the desert and should know where to hide from the black sandstorm. I quickly signaled to the others to climb onto the camels and follow the white one.
The camels lowered their heads, running so hard that they were almost frothing at the mouth, using their last bit of strength to keep up with the white camel. We turned around a large sand dune, and suddenly the terrain rose sharply. The white camel’s figure flashed and then disappeared in a single leap.
I felt a sense of dread; if it vanished, we would be in trouble. The surroundings were growing darker, and I could no longer distinguish between the sky and the ground. In just a minute or two, the life-consuming black sandstorm would arrive.
Before we could fully grasp the situation, the camels beneath us turned and circled around the towering sand dune. Looking to my left and right, I noticed that the dune had a section of crumbling city wall, and below it was a large earthen fortress. It turned out we had stumbled upon the ruins of a small ancient city.
Most of the buildings were buried under the sand, with some already collapsed. Only the sturdy section of the city wall stood tall, weathered by the wind and sun over countless years, blending in with the color of the desert. From a distance, it looked like just another sand dune; unless you approached from the side, you would never discover this ancient fortress.
The all-white wild camel had run into this place for refuge, but the broken walls of the ancient city blocked our view, and we couldn’t see where it had gone.
The city wall acted like a high barrier against the sand. Whether it could withstand this rare sandstorm, as Old An put it, “That depends on Khuda’s will.” In any case, having a place to hide was already a blessing.
The members of the archaeological team, having survived a close call, all looked pale. It was hard to tell if their faces were yellow from fear or just covered in dust. Everyone dismounted from their camels, and Old An directed them to have the camels lie down against the wall. Then he led us into a large room through a broken roof.
Although the ancient city had walls to shield us from the wind and sand, some parts of the walls were broken. Over the years, a lot of sand had been blown into the city, accumulating in the damaged buildings to a depth of over two meters.
The large room we entered for shelter might have served as a government office or town hall, and it was quite spacious. Even so, we had to crouch down, as just lifting our heads slightly would cause us to bump into the wooden beams above.
Ye Yixin, Hao Aiguo, and the others who were not in good shape immediately lay down on the ground and took out their water bottles to drink. The rest of us helped carry Professor Chen inside; he had regained his senses but his legs were still weak. Fatty let out a big sigh of relief, saying, “Looks like we’ve managed to save our lives.”
Once inside, Old An immediately knelt on the ground, thanking Khuda for sending the auspicious white camel that saved us from the nightmare of the black sandstorm. He explained that the single-humped white camel was the most magical creature in the desert. Historical figures like Genghis Khan and Li Yuanhao of the Western Xia had white camels, but those were two-humped, which, while rare, were not considered magical.
Old An remarked that if there had been even one person in our group that Khuda disliked, we would never have seen the white camel. It seemed we were truly blessed by the divine, and from now on, we should treat each other like brothers, bonded together. He patted his chest and promised, “If danger arises again, I will never abandon everyone to save myself.”
I couldn’t help but curse inwardly, thinking, “Damn it, old man, did you not take us seriously before? You ran off like a rabbit the moment trouble struck!”
As we spoke, the sandstorm outside had already arrived. The wind howled, shaking the very ground beneath us. Even in the ruins of the ancient city, we felt a sense of dread. What if the wind and sand buried the exit? We could suffocate inside! I quickly assigned Sa Dipeng, Fatty, and Chu Jian to take turns watching the hole in the roof. If anything happened, they were to alert everyone to run outside. But we all knew that if the storm moved the sand and buried the walls, running out would only mean being buried in a different spot.
Outside, the walls were covered in sand sagebrush, a type of dry grass. I leaned out and pulled some up, using it as solid fuel to start a small fire for warmth.
The dark ancient room was illuminated by the firelight. Suddenly, Ye Yixin jumped up and hit her head on a beam, nearly knocking herself out. Fine sand fell from the beam, and those of us without goggles were left blinking in confusion.
Everyone rubbed their eyes and asked Ye Yixin what was wrong, wondering why she was acting so strangely.
My eyes were also filled with sand, and I couldn’t see anything. All I could hear was Ye Yixin’s trembling voice saying, “There’s a corpse lying in the corner on the right!”
“A corpse?” Hao Aiguo asked while rubbing his eyes. “What’s with you, Ye? Why are you so startled? We’re archaeologists; we’re not afraid of corpses!”
Ye Yixin, also with sand in her eyes, apologized while holding her head where she had bumped it. “I’m sorry, Professor Hao. I just didn’t expect to find a dead body in here. I wasn’t mentally prepared… I’m so sorry!”
I remembered a trick I had heard: if your eyes were filled with sand, spitting could help. I had tried it before with success, so I quickly spat a big mouthful, and the gritty feeling in my eyes lessened immediately. Tears streamed down my face, but I could finally open my eyes.
When I did, I was startled to see that my spit had landed right on Shirley Yang’s head. She was a clean person and maintained good hygiene even in the desert. She was rubbing her eyes and hadn’t noticed the spit on her head in the chaos.
I pretended nothing had happened and quickly took out my flashlight from my portable geology bag to check the wall. Sure enough, there was a human skeleton. The desert’s dry climate made it hard to tell how long it had been there; only a few bones were partially buried in the sand, while most were exposed. It was quite a frightening sight, no wonder Ye Yixin had been so startled.
At that moment, the others began to open their eyes as well. They took out their water bottles to rinse the eyes of those who had been severely affected by the sand. I reassured everyone, saying not to worry; it was just a skeleton, and we didn’t know how many years it had been there. After we ate something and rested a bit, we could dig a hole to bury it.
The members of the archaeological team, except for Old An, were all accustomed to dealing with ancient corpses, so no one was particularly afraid. However, they were puzzled about how this skeleton had ended up here. In the desert, the dead rarely decay; they usually become mummified due to the dry climate. But this skeleton had no flesh left at all, perhaps it had been completely consumed by sand wolves.
Old An thought this was not surprising. After all, the white camel had run in here to escape the sandstorm, and we were lucky to have followed it to safety. This desert was different from the semi-desert, semi-gobi region with the ruins of Loulan and the Yadan landforms. People dared not stray from the ancient route along the Peacock River when entering the black desert in the west. Without guidance, we would never have found the ruins of this castle. But animals in the desert were different. This abandoned city was surely a refuge granted by Khuda to the creatures of the desert. We couldn’t see them, but behind the broken walls, there might be sand wolves, yellow sheep, and sand leopards hiding. Right now, with the storm raging above, the animals were terrified and didn’t care about each other. After the storm passed, we might find wolves and yellow sheep hiding in the same room, and then the wolves would show their teeth while the sheep would stick out their horns.
Hearing that there might be wild beasts hiding in the ruins made Ye Yixin and a few others who were more timid feel nervous. Old An was also worried about the camels hiding behind the broken walls. He decided to brave the storm to tie them up. It seemed that this sandstorm wouldn’t stop anytime soon, and we didn’t know how long we would have to stay in this large room. So, I asked Fatty and Chu Jian to go with him to bring in some food, fuel, and sleeping bags.
The three of them put on goggles and wrapped their heads, noses, and ears with scarves before climbing out through the hole in the roof. After a couple of minutes, they returned, covered in sand. Fatty pulled off his scarf and goggles, plopped down on the ground, and said, “The wind was so strong that if we hadn’t been holding onto each other, we might have been blown away! But that old man didn’t let us down. When we passed a broken wall, we spotted six or seven yellow sheep hiding behind it. Once the wind dies down a bit, I’ll grab my gun and shoot a couple. We’ve been eating dried meat for days; it’s getting boring.”
Old An immediately disagreed, saying, “No, no! If you shoot, the sound will scare all the wild animals hiding in the city away. They’ll run out and get buried alive in the black sandstorm! We’re just like those animals, hiding here thanks to Khuda’s grace. You can’t do that!”
Fatty replied, “Alright, alright, I was just saying! You don’t need to get so worked up. Can I at least eat my dried meat? You’re not going to stop us from eating that, are you?” With that, he pulled out some dried meat, canned food, and liquor from his bag and shared it with everyone.
After fleeing through the vast desert for most of the day, we were now trapped in the ruins of this nameless ancient city by the sandstorm. Aside from Fatty and Old An, the others had little appetite. I was particularly concerned about Professor Chen, given his age and the lack of medical supplies in the desert. I didn’t want anything to happen to him. I took the skin bag filled with liquor and walked over to Professor Chen, encouraging him to take a few sips to ease his fatigue.
Shirley Yang and Hao Aiguo helped him sit up, while the students, except for Chu Jian who was on lookout by the hole in the roof, gathered around the professor with concern.
Professor Chen seemed to have recovered a bit. After taking a sip of liquor, he smiled wryly and said, “Thinking back to my days working in the field, then being locked up in a barn for over three years, and later at a labor camp breaking rocks, I’ve endured quite a lot. But I’ve made it through. Now, as an old man, I’m not as useful anymore. Sigh, today we owe it all to you, Brother Hu. Without you, I would have surely been buried alive by the sandstorm.”
I comforted him, saying I couldn’t just take Miss Yang’s money without contributing. If he felt unwell, we should head back as soon as possible; it would be too late once we reached the center of the black desert beyond the ruins of Xiye City, where the environment would be much harsher.
Professor Chen shook his head firmly, insisting that we should continue. He reassured everyone that such a rare sandstorm wouldn’t happen often. Since we had survived this one, it meant we would have good fortune ahead.
Just as I was about to persuade him further, Shirley Yang pulled me aside and quietly said, “Mr. Hu, I used to think you were too young to be the leader of the archaeological team, and I worried about your ability and experience. But today, I finally understand that you are the right person for this role. I need your help with something. We’ve experienced the power of nature, and the team’s morale has taken a hit. I hope you can encourage everyone to lift their spirits.”
This was indeed a challenge, but since the boss had spoken, I had to comply. As everyone gathered to eat, I said, “Um… comrades, the atmosphere here feels a bit heavy. Singing while marching is a fine tradition of our army. How about we sing a song together?”
Everyone looked at each other, puzzled, thinking, when did we become soldiers? What does the army’s tradition have to do with us? Singing in a situation like this? No one reacted at first.
I realized I had made a mistake, bringing out military jargon inappropriately, so I quickly corrected myself, “No, no, what I meant was, let’s just chat. I’ll share a little story about my experiences on the front lines.”
Hearing that I was going to tell a story piqued everyone’s interest, and they gathered closer, eating while listening. I began, “Once, we were assigned a tough mission to capture Hill 306, which had several Vietnamese fire points. Their positions were well-fortified, and our artillery couldn’t take them out directly, so the infantry had to charge. My company, the Sixth Company, attempted three assaults but failed each time, suffering seven casualties and over ten injuries. We were known as the heroic company in the entire division, and we had never faced such a humiliating defeat. The soldiers were very discouraged and lacked motivation. Just when I was worried, the regiment commander called me and scolded me over the phone, asking if our company was capable. If not, we should give up our position and let another company take over. I thought, no way! After hanging up, I came up with a plan. I told the soldiers that the Central Military Commission had called me and that Elder Deng had heard about our Sixth Company’s deeds. He said we were doing great and would definitely capture the position. The soldiers were fired up, saying, ‘What? Elder Deng knows about us? We can’t let him down!’ They charged forward and successfully took the hill.”
The members of the archaeological team were stirred by my story and began asking about the details of the battle.
I concluded, “Comrades, the point of my story is that no difficulty can stop us. Our greatest enemy is ourselves. As long as we can overcome our fears and weaknesses, we will achieve victory in the end.”
With my encouragement, the previously oppressive atmosphere lightened significantly. Although the sandstorm outside was fierce, the tension among the group eased.
After we finished eating, it was Sa Dipeng’s turn to take over from Chu Jian on lookout duty. Fatty and I went to deal with the skeleton in the corner. We decided it would be best to bury it before going to sleep, as the presence of the remains made everyone uncomfortable.
Given the terrible weather, we couldn’t bury it outside, so we had to dig in the sand. After just a few shovels, my spade hit something hard. I found it strange; the room was high, and the yellow sand had accumulated over hundreds or even thousands of years. How could I hit stone after just a few digs?
Clearing the sand, I saw that the stone was dark. I dug a bit more to the sides, but there was no stone. Hao Aiguo and the others came over to help, and together we dug down over half a meter. To our surprise, we uncovered a black stone head.
The stone head as large as two normal heads combined. His eyes were long and olive-shaped, disproportionately big compared to his other facial features, making him look somewhat unbalanced. He wore no hat, just a simple bun on top of his head. His expression was very calm, showing no clear signs of joy or anger. He resembled a statue found in a temple or a stone figure from ancient tombs, but given the statue’s position in the large room, it was more likely the former.
I lit a gas lamp, and Professor Chen looked at it before asking Hao Aiguo, “Does this stone statue remind you of something we’ve seen before?”
Hao Aiguo put on his glasses and examined it closely. “Ah, indeed! There was a site in Xinjiang where a thousand coffins were found, and there was a stone figure just like this one. Its eyes are very prominent, unlike ordinary people. This is likely called a Giant Eye Stone Statue.”
Such Giant Eye Stone Statues have been discovered in various places across the Tianshan Mountains, Altai, the Hotan River basin, and the Mongolian grasslands. The origin of these statues is unclear. Some scholars have suggested they might represent a deity worshipped by the Mongols. Historical records mention that Kublai Khan had a secret palace in the western desert called the “Fragrant Palace,” where these stone figures were originally placed. However, as older tombs and relics were discovered, the theory of the “Fragrant Palace” was challenged. Some believe these statues were left by ancient Turkic people, but in the end, there is no definitive explanation, making it one of many unsolved mysteries in archaeology.
The students in the archaeological team had never seen a Giant Eye Stone Statue before. They took out their pens to sketch and take notes, discussing plans to dig out the sand below to see the statue’s full form. Hao Aiguo shared some related knowledge with them, suggesting they rest for the day since everyone was tired. He proposed that once the sandstorm stopped, they could clear the sand in the large room to see if there were any discoveries.
I moved to another spot and dug through the yellow sand to bury the remains of the unfortunate victim. There was nothing on him to identify who he was, not even a simple grave marker. It was a pity; he could have stayed home instead of struggling in the desert. I hoped he could rest in peace here.
I checked my watch; it was already evening. The black sandstorm outside showed no signs of stopping and seemed to be getting stronger, possibly lasting all night.
Except for Sa Dipeng, who was on watch, the others had used fine sand to clean their feet and crawled into their sleeping bags to rest. This was something I learned from An Liman; in the desert, water is precious, and you can only wash your feet with fine sand. I found Sa Dipeng under the hole in the roof and told him to get some sleep while I took over his watch.
I sat in a corner, holding my air rifle close in case a wild animal suddenly appeared. I smoked a cigarette while listening to the howling wind outside. The thought of Professor Chen and the others continuing deeper into the desert made my head ache. Who knew what dangerous traps lay hidden in that black desert? Surviving the sandstorm today without any casualties was nothing short of a miracle.
Lost in thought, I kept smoking, unaware of how much time had passed. Outside, it was completely dark, and the wind still roared, sounding like countless demons wailing. Occasionally, sand would fall through the hole in the roof. If the wind didn’t stop, the crumbling city walls ahead would soon be buried in sand.
At that moment, I noticed Shirley Yang waking up. Seeing me sitting in the corner on watch, she approached, seemingly wanting to talk. Normally, I didn’t speak much with her, mainly because she and Fatty didn’t get along, and they often exchanged glares. So aside from necessary communication, we rarely spoke to her. If we upset her, she would deduct money from us, which was something we wanted to avoid.
Out of politeness, I greeted her. Shirley Yang came over and said, “Mr. Hu, you should get some sleep. I can take your watch for two hours.”
I declined, saying I would call Fatty to take over soon. I suggested she go back to rest, but she sat down across from me and started chatting casually.
There was something I had always wanted to ask her: why was she so determined to find that ancient city? Perhaps it had long since vanished, and no one had seen it for years. Her father and the other explorers might not have died in that city; in the desert, countless dangers could arise. Finding the remains of those lost souls would be incredibly difficult, especially with so many unsolved mysteries in this black desert. I had read in some tabloids about three explorers who had come here and then disappeared. Much later, their bodies were found at the edge of the desert, and all three had died of dehydration, even though their water bottles were still half full. There were countless similar stories. Our understanding of the desert is so limited; it is home to many plants and animals, some of which are still undiscovered. We could only do our best to search, and even if we didn’t find anything, there was no need to feel too guilty.
Shirley Yang nodded. “Mr. Hu, you make a good point. However, I firmly believe that my father and the others found the ancient city of Jingjue. Ever since he went missing in the desert, I have dreamed multiple times of a dark, deep hole with a large coffin hanging at the entrance. The coffin is covered in ghostly inscriptions and bound with heavy iron chains. There’s a huge figure on top of the coffin, but I can never see what it is. Every time I try to get a clearer look at what’s on the coffin, I wake up. For more than six months, I’ve had the same dream almost every night. I believe this is a message from my father; that coffin must belong to the Queen of Jingjue.”
I thought it was strange that an American would be so superstitious and believe in dreams, but seeing her serious expression, I didn’t dare to contradict her. Instead, I comforted her a bit and changed the subject, asking her what exactly the Kingdom of Jingjue was.
Shirley Yang explained, “My father and Professor Chen have been friends for many years. They were classmates in their youth and were both fascinated by the ancient cultures of the Western Regions. In 1948, my father went to the United States with his family, and he didn’t return to China until after the Cultural Revolution. While in America, he bought a collection of artifacts, all precious items excavated by European explorers in the Xinjiang desert during the early 19th century. These explorers discovered the ruins of an ancient city near the Niya Oasis, which, according to research, dates back to the Han Dynasty. Some clues suggest that this might be the remains of the once-powerful Kingdom of Jingjue among the Thirty-Six Kingdoms of the Western Regions. My father and Professor Chen concluded that the Niya ruins were merely a subsidiary city of Jingjue, and the main city should be located north of Niya, downstream of the Zidu Dark River. My father hoped to find the ruins of the ancient city of Jingjue in his lifetime, which is why he took the risk to organize an expedition into the desert. There are not many existing records about this once-glorious ancient city. Jingjue was the leader of a coalition of small states in the Western Regions. Those small states were merely cities of varying sizes that formed naturally along trade routes, each claiming to be a nation. Among them, Jingjue was the most powerful. The people of Jingjue were primarily from the Ghost Cave tribe, mixed with a few other ethnic groups. After the last queen of Jingjue died, the city vanished into the sea of sand. Whether it was destroyed by natural disasters or war remains unknown, as if the kingdom had never existed. However, just before World War II, a British explorer led an expedition into the Taklamakan Desert, and he was the only one who returned alive. His mind was completely lost, but a few photos and a diary in his camera confirmed the existence of the ancient city of Jingjue. Others have tried to follow this lead, but then World War II broke out. It wasn’t until the last three or four years that various expedition teams had the opportunity to enter the desert in search of treasures and ruins.”
Shirley Yang took out a small bag to show me. I opened it to find a yellowed black-and-white photo and an old diary filled with English writing. The photo was very blurry, but it vaguely depicted a city in the desert with a tower standing in the middle, though the details were almost unrecognizable.
I asked Shirley Yang if this was… She replied, “Yes, this is what my father brought back from England. This is the diary and photo of Mr. Walter, the explorer who personally visited the ancient city of Jingjue. This gives us some clues, but the diary only mentions that they saw a massive ancient city downstream of the Zidu Dark River and planned to explore it in the morning. After that, here’s nothing more. We don’t know what happened to them in the ruins of the ancient city, or why only one person, who had lost his sanity, survived.”
As we continued talking, I inadvertently noticed something in the corner of the room illuminated by the gas lamp. The eyes of the Giant Eye Stone Statue, which had been unearthed with a large head, seemed to move slightly. I hadn’t slept for a day and a night; could it be that I was seeing things?