Professor Chen shook his head repeatedly. “We can’t open it! This coffin, where Prince Gumo and his wife are buried, is a national treasure. Right now, we don’t have the conditions or the right environment. If we open it, we will damage the sealed coffin and the items inside. Our purpose here is to submit an evaluation report to our superiors, to apply for excavation, or to ensure proper protection for these ancient cultural relics. Just have Aiguo take Chu Jian and the others to make the records, and I will write the report myself.”
It seemed I wouldn’t get a chance to see what treasures were inside the coffin. Although I knew the professor was right, I couldn’t help but feel a bit disappointed. I climbed back to the sacrificial chamber with them.
The stone door of the sacrificial chamber was originally sealed with many animal hides, all of which I had cut into pieces with a flat shovel. Professor Chen explained that these were meant to keep the chamber dry and block the moisture from the holy well. The ancient Gumo people would bring live animals into the chamber to be slaughtered, and immediately stick the freshly skinned hides, still warm with blood, into the gaps of the stone door. The meat and entrails of the animals were cut away, leaving only the bones, and the stone door would not be opened again until the next ceremony. This strange ritual of slaughtering animals, skinning them, and binding the corpses to wooden stakes was meant to preserve the water source of the holy well, ensuring it would never dry up. The ancient desert dwellers believed that the soul of life came from sacred water, which was quite close to Darwin’s theory of the origin of life in some respects.
We couldn’t use those animal hides to seal the stone door again. Besides camels, there were no large animals around. However, the nineteen camels were extremely precious to us, so we couldn’t use their hides. Instead, we used several layers of tape to seal the door.
The archaeological team rested in Xiye City for three days before heading south, finally entering the area known locally as the “Black Desert.” Here, we could no longer see the poplar trees typical of deserts, nor the rolling sand dunes. The surrounding sand dunes were all about the same height, resembling flat buns, stretching endlessly in every direction, with no signs of life.
I asked An Liman if he had ever been into this desert before.
An Liman chuckled bitterly. “This is the hell of yellow sand; even Khuda wouldn’t want to come here. I’ve only been here once, and this is it. If it weren’t for your officials and Khuda’s beloved white camel, I wouldn’t come here even if I died a hundred times.”
Despite his complaints, An Liman was known as the living map of the desert, and he earned that title. His familiarity with the desert was like a woman handling pots and pans. Although this was his first time in the forbidden Black Desert, his keen eyes, like those of a sand fox, could spot plants like reed and sagebrush in the sand pits. It was by following the traces of these plants and relying on his years of experience in the desert that he could lead the archaeological team forward.
The desert contains China’s largest inland water system, but many rivers, like the Tarim River, have seeped into the sand. On the surface, the desert appears barren, but deep underground, there may be rushing underground rivers.
Some plants that grow in the desert survive by drawing moisture from underground water sources that barely reach the surface. In fact, besides a few plants, there are many animals, but most come out to forage only in the cold of night.
In the Han Dynasty and even earlier, the Taklamakan Desert was known as the “Ancient Homeland.” At that time, the area was not as severely desertified, and rivers had not yet sunk underground. There were oases, towns, watchtowers, Buddhist temples, and relay stations everywhere. Countless caravans carried silk, spices, and tea through this region. By the Yuan Dynasty, the famous Italian Marco Polo passed through here with a caravan on his way to the Central Plains.
By the Ming Dynasty, the rise of the Ottoman Empire, which spanned Europe and Asia, disrupted trade between the continents. That era belonged to the sea, as navigators opened new routes, shifting the main trade routes from land to sea. This great era is also known as the Age of Discovery.
As desert erosion worsened and living conditions became harsh, the various small nations in the desert completely declined, and the former prosperity and glory were taken away by the gods.
The Black Desert was one of the first places abandoned by the gods, and its civilization ceased to exist by the Jin Dynasty. Even today, the Black Desert remains lifeless.
On our first day of travel, we encountered light sandstorms. The sky was slightly yellow, but the wind was not strong, just enough to shield the sun, allowing us to travel during the day.
Shirley Yang held the notebook left by the British explorer, discussing the route with An Liman as we walked. The notebook recorded that after leaving Xiye City, the explorers had discovered a place nearby with a large number of stone tombs. They planned to return for excavation, so they had drawn a detailed route in the notes.
With An Liman’s experience and Shirley’s notebook, we couldn’t pinpoint our location exactly, but the information about distance and direction was a great help.
When we set up camp for the night, An Liman found a raised area. The group built a sand barrier on the dune to protect the camels and then lit a fire on the leeward side of the dune to keep warm.
It had been a tough day of walking. Although the wind wasn’t strong, it was annoying, and An Liman kept talking about how it was the windy season. In the Black Desert, this kind of weather occurred every two days on average. When there was no wind, the harsh sun would drain the last drop of moisture from travelers.
Fatty said, “The heat is good; sweating helps with weight loss. A bit of sun feels refreshing, but with the wind blowing constantly, we can’t even talk on the road. It’s really frustrating.”
An Liman replied, “What do you know? We’re just at the edge of the Black Desert. We still have five days to go before we reach the depths. I haven’t been deep inside, but I know some friends who have. They are survivors who made it back from the Black Desert.”
The terrifying thing about the Black Desert isn’t the quicksand that traps people, the ants that can devour a car, or the black sandstorms. Legends say there is a dreamlike place deep within, where people see lakes, rivers, beautiful women, divine beasts, snow-capped mountains, and oases. Those who are thirsty and tired naturally rush toward those beautiful sights, but they can walk until they die of thirst and exhaustion without ever reaching them. In reality, those are traps set by demons to lure people to their deaths. But Khuda will protect us; Allahu Akbar.
Shirley Yang added, “What they see might just be mirages in the desert. Those who don’t know the truth can easily be deceived.”
Just as we were talking, Ye Yixin came over and pulled Shirley Yang aside. The two whispered to each other for a moment, and then Shirley turned to me and said, “We need to go behind that sand dune for a bit.”
I guessed that Ye Yixin might need to relieve herself. She was timid and didn’t want to go alone, so she was dragging Shirley along for company. I nodded at them and reminded, “Take a flashlight and a whistle. If anything happens, blow the whistle loudly. Hurry up and come back.”
Shirley Yang agreed and took Ye Yixin’s hand as they walked toward a nearby sand dune.
Fatty asked me if I had any more alcohol.
I replied that I was out. “Even if I brought a barrel of liquor, it wouldn’t hold up against how much you drink. Just have a few sips of hot water and get some sleep. If we can’t find a water source in five or six days, we’ll have to reduce everyone’s daily water rations.”
I said this just to scare Fatty. Even if we couldn’t find the underground rivers in the desert, I had ways to ensure everyone would have at least a minimal amount of drinking water.
But that was a last resort, a troublesome method, yet it worked. I had learned desert survival techniques during my military service.
An Liman had initially refused to enter the Black Desert, mainly because there was no fresh water. Although there were underground rivers, we couldn’t dig that deep. If we dug down from the roots of desert plants like the saxaul, we would only find wet sand and salty water a few meters down, which would only make us thirstier.
An Liman understood this method too. We had discussed its feasibility repeatedly, and we privately agreed that once we reached a place where even saxaul wouldn’t grow, we would not take another step forward. That was when he finally agreed.
Anyone who has undergone desert survival training in the military knows that in the shallower areas of Xinjiang’s deserts, the water is often salty and mineral-rich. By digging down at the neck of desert plants, one can reach wet sand and salty water. Through simple solar evaporation and filtration, a small amount of fresh water can be obtained. Although it’s little, it is enough to sustain life.
At that moment, the wind and sand picked up slightly, and a sharp whistle came from behind the opposite dune, startling everyone. We quickly grabbed our shovels and rifles and rushed toward the source of the sound. Fortunately, it was very close, less than two hundred steps away. We hurriedly made our way there.
When we arrived, we saw Ye Yixin half-buried in the sand, struggling to free herself. Shirley Yang was holding her arm, desperately trying to pull her out.
In the chaos, someone shouted, “Quicksand!”
We followed the footprints in the sand and rushed forward, ignoring everything else to grab Ye Yixin. A few people, unable to find ropes in time, quickly took off their belts, trying to loop them around her arm.
To our surprise, it didn’t take much effort to pull Ye Yixin out of the sand. It seemed it wasn’t quicksand after all. Ye Yixin, frightened, buried her face in Shirley Yang’s arms and cried.
The others asked what had happened and if it was quicksand.
As Shirley comforted Ye Yixin, she explained to the group, “We had just walked behind the dune when Ye Yixin stepped into a hole and fell halfway in. I quickly grabbed her and blew the whistle for help. But it doesn’t seem to be quicksand. Quicksand pulls people in quickly and has a strong suction. If it were really quicksand, I wouldn’t have been able to pull her out. Besides, after she fell halfway, she stopped, as if there was something solid underneath. If it had been quicksand, it would have been too late for you to rescue her after those few seconds of delay.”
Ye Yixin, now calmer, wiped her tears and said, “I think I stepped on a stone slab under the sand. There was a gap beneath it, and when I stepped on it, it collapsed.”
Shirley Yang exclaimed, “Could it be one of those stone tombs? Let’s go take a look.”
We began to dig at the spot where Ye Yixin had fallen. Beneath a thin layer of yellow sand, parallel to the slope of the dune, we uncovered a slanted stone wall with a large hole blasted into it.
It seemed the explosion had happened recently, just in the past few days. The wind and sand had covered the hole with a thin layer, and Ye Yixin had stepped on the loose stones at the edge of the opening.
Everyone looked at the stone hole, exchanging glances, clearly realizing it was a stone tomb. Had it already been robbed?
I examined the rubble at the entrance and the direction of the explosion—this was a precise, small-scale directional blast! Having worked as a sapper for many years, I considered myself quite familiar with explosives. If I were to blow open this ancient stone tomb, I would only achieve this level of precision.
It seemed the person who set off the explosion understood the rock’s fragility well. The blast had only collapsed the stone wall, causing the rubble to spread outward without damaging the interior of the tomb.
Looking at the power of the explosives, it was clear they were not civilian-grade. Having left the military for several years, could it be that even active-duty soldiers were now robbing tombs? That seemed unlikely; perhaps the explosives were stolen. And in this vast, endless desert, how did the tomb raiders find these ancient graves? The terrain here looked identical in every direction. Was there really someone besides me, with my limited skills, who could read the stars and navigate the desert to locate these tombs?
As we gradually cleared the sand from the dune, we revealed a hammer-shaped stone wall. Except for the blasted section, the rest was buried deep in the yellow sand.
It appeared to be a typical stone tomb from the Wei and Jin Dynasties, constructed with massive stones in an arched shape, with gaps sealed using a natural adhesive. Such stone tombs were quite common near the ruins of Xiye. In the early 19th century, a European explorer described them as follows: “Stone tombs are found everywhere in the desert, large and small, countless in number, with more than half buried beneath the yellow sand, their black pointed tops protruding like miniature Egyptian pyramids. Wandering through the forest of stone tombs in the desert is a breathtaking sight.”
Now, these stone tombs had been completely covered by the desert, making them hard to find. Professor Chen speculated that it might be related to the recent sandstorm, which had exposed part of the tomb. It was surprising how quickly the tomb raiders had arrived; the archaeological team was a step too late.
Along the way, we had already encountered several ancient tombs that had been robbed and damaged. It was no wonder Professor Chen was so anxious, risking everything to enter the desert. If the tomb raiding in this area wasn’t stopped soon, there would be nothing left in the near future.
The hole in the tomb was dark, and I, along with Professor Chen and Aiguo, entered with our flashlights to take a look. The tomb chamber was about the size of a small room, containing four or five wooden coffins scattered about. The coffin lids had been pried open and tossed aside, leaving the place in disarray.
The coffins varied in size, suggesting it was a joint burial site. Inside, only one ancient corpse remained—a young woman’s mummified body. Her long hair was braided, and while her head was relatively well-preserved, the rest of her body was in pieces, likely taken by the tomb raiders.
In the ancient tombs of the Xinjiang desert, the value of the treasures was often equal to that of the mummified bodies inside. I had heard Professor Chen talk about different types of ancient corpses: there were wet corpses, like the Lady of Mawangdui; wax corpses, which had undergone special treatment; frozen corpses found in glaciers; and tanned corpses, similar to mummies. There were also specimens preserved like taxidermy.
Among the mummies, there were several types: some were created using drying agents like lime or charcoal placed in the coffins, while others, like the ancient Egyptians, used special embalming techniques to create mummies.
The mummies found in Xinjiang were formed naturally in a high-temperature, dry, and sterile environment. Those that were slightly older were quite valuable, with overseas museums, exhibition halls, and collectors eager to purchase them at high prices.
Seeing that the other mummies in this tomb had been stolen and the place was in complete disarray, Professor Chen couldn’t help but sigh in disappointment. He instructed a few students to sort through the broken items in the tomb to see if anything could be salvaged.
Worried that the professor might be too agitated and unable to handle it physically, I advised him to rest. He then reminded Aiguo to document the condition of the tomb in detail before Fatty took him back to the camp to rest.
The next day, the wind still hadn’t stopped, blowing steadily. As the archaeological team prepared to set out, Professor Chen found me and said that the tomb we had seen last night had been robbed no more than three to five days ago. It was possible that a group of tomb raiders had already entered the depths of the Black Desert before us. We couldn’t afford to delay; it would be best to catch up with them.
I casually responded, thinking to myself that I hoped we wouldn’t run into them. After all, they were likely to be armed with military-grade explosives and possibly other sharp tools. If we encountered them, it would inevitably lead to a violent confrontation. I didn’t mind for myself, but if any of the archaeological team members were injured or killed, the responsibility would be too great.
That said, in the vast desert, it wasn’t easy for two groups to cross paths. If we hadn’t camped here at this highest dune nearby, we wouldn’t have stumbled upon the robbed tomb. It was unlikely that we would have such luck again; perhaps those raiders had already left after stealing the mummies.
In the following days, the archaeological team ventured deeper into the Black Desert, ultimately losing track of the Zidu underground river. For several days, we found ourselves going in circles. In the local ancient language, “Zidu” means “shadow,” and this underground river was elusive, like a shadow that couldn’t be captured. An Liman’s eyes were bloodshot from frustration, and after a final shake of his head, it was clear that we had reached the limit of what Khuda would allow us to explore.
Everyone was exhausted, and the camels were weary. The desert had been completely still for days, with no hint of wind. The sun hung in the sky for an unusually long time, and to conserve drinking water, the team members dug pits in the sand during the day, setting up rain tarps above to catch the cool air from the ground, helping to retain moisture in their bodies. We only traveled in the early morning and at night, riding camels for half the journey and walking the other half.
As we pressed on, our food and water supplies dwindled. If we didn’t turn back within a day or two, we would have to resort to slaughtering the camels for food on the way back.
Looking at the weary, parched faces of my companions, I knew we were nearing our limits. With the sun rising higher and the temperature climbing, I decided it was time for everyone to dig in and rest.
Once we were settled, Shirley Yang approached An Liman and me to discuss our route.
“Captain Hu, Mr. An,” she said, “in the notebook of that British explorer I mentioned, there is a record that he also lost track of the Zidu underground river deep in the Black Desert. In this lifeless sea of death, two massive black magnetic mountains stand facing each other against the glow of the setting sun, like two ancient warriors clad in black armor, silently guarding ancient secrets. Passing through a valley that resembles a great gate, a legendary city appears before the eyes.”