Chapter 3

Chapter 3

If fuel consumption were not a concern, Qu Yixian had originally planned to search westward along the valley in a large “zigzag” pattern, covering the area from the valley all the way to the Yadan Devil City near Dunhuang.

She was the advance team, alone. With limited fuel, she had to abandon this overly idealistic plan and switch to a more targeted, point-to-point search.

There was a road from Yumen Pass directly to Yadan Devil City, but in Qu Yixian’s search plan, the first area to exclude was this road.

It was the only vehicle route to the scenic area. From July to September, the Northwest sees its peak tourist season, with dozens of buses departing daily from Yumen Pass to Yadan Devil City.

Since the Xun-surnamed client said he was lost, he had obviously deviated far from this road. Searching along it would be a waste of precious rescue time.

She estimated the walking speed of an adult man while adjusting her direction.

About ten kilometers off the road from Yumen Pass, she would already be in the uninhabited zone.

The scenery gradually changed. No more green meadows or moist marshes, not even birds or animals. As far as the eye could see, there was only endless desert and slightly protruding Gobi ground.

Among the desert’s gravelly soil, a few scattered clumps of wormwood were sun-scorched, exuding a sense of desolate death.

Qu Yixian looked one last time in the rearview mirror. Yumen Pass’s small square mud city was long gone. Even the power poles along the left side of the highway in the distance had blurred into vague outlines under the desert heat waves.

——

Qu Yixian’s first stop, as set on the satellite map, was a solitary, towering mound of Gobi—more precisely, a small earth hill about four meters high.

Exposed to wind and sun all year, the hill was rough but stood taller than any other mound within a hundred kilometers, barely sufficient to provide some shade.

Qu Yixian parked the car tightly against the hill’s stony side.

In July, ground temperatures in the desert could reach nearly seventy degrees Celsius.

The Cruiser’s hood radiated heat, and the horizon through the windshield was distorted by the high temperature, giving the mirage a gorgeous, surreal shimmer.

Qu Yixian turned off the engine and stepped out.

She walked clockwise around the car, opening all four doors to let the vehicle air out.

At such high temperatures, driving was impossible. She needed to rest for two hours at the first stop and resume the search after the temperature dropped around three in the afternoon.

Even so, she didn’t remain idle.

The small hill barely covered half of the Cruiser. Qu Yixian sat on the open door sill, studying the map and plotted route.

The GPS coordinates were very close to the location Xu San had described where the Xun client went missing.

Qu Yixian stood, retrieving binoculars from the car’s storage compartment, along with the satellite phone and handheld GPS. She then went to the trunk and took out a water supply container.

Before setting out, she unscrewed a bottle of mineral water, wetting her sun-protective sleeves. She tightened the sun-shielding cap and started probing forward along the sand ridges between the Gobi hills.

Qu Yixian didn’t go far.

In the extreme heat and dryness of the desert, physical exertion consumed energy extremely quickly.

Moreover, she was alone, venturing deep into the desert. Even as a seasoned rescue team member, venturing without backup posed significant risk.

She checked the GPS, estimating that she had reached the furthest safe distance from the vehicle, and chose a nearby small hill to climb.

The hill wasn’t very high, but the view was decent. Qu Yixian thought she could stretch her toes and perhaps see a few extra meters.

At this time, desert temperatures had reached the day’s peak. The exposed half of her neck felt as if it were being broiled on a wire rack.

One hand held the binoculars; the other followed the route marked on the GPS.

In Uyghur, Yadan translates to “small hills with steep cliffs,” formed first by water erosion, then wind erosion.

This desolate Gobi desert had once been a vast lake, rich in water and grass. Over time, geological and climate changes lowered water levels, fragmenting the lake into multiple rivers. By recent times, the riverbeds had dried, the surface weathered and barren, grass long gone.

Qu Yixian worried about the small, unknown sand hills covering the area between the Gobi and sand ridges.

After riverbeds weathered, stones and sediment were carried by wind, depositing larger stones at uphill mounds. Fine sand accumulated atop these dunes.

It was impossible to judge the depth of these dunes by eye alone. If she encountered dunes with deep loose sand, even a rugged four-wheel-drive could get stuck.

At that point, she wouldn’t just be unable to conduct a rescue—she herself would need to call the Xinghui convoy’s rescue hotline.

Qu Yixian was a proud person; naturally, she wouldn’t allow such a low-level incident that would tarnish her reputation.

After scouting the route, Qu Yixian returned along the same path.

Back in the car, she removed her gear and replenished her water.

Her trip to Yumen Pass had been purely out of boredom—she wanted to visit the scenic spot, hoping to pick up a few independent tourists to Dunhuang and earn some extra living expenses.

The original plan was to leave at noon and return to Dunhuang in the evening. The Cruiser had enough fuel for two round trips, so she hadn’t planned to refuel, only adding an extra container of water in the trunk before departure.

Who could have known the road construction would cause such a traffic jam, and that she’d encounter a missing person case halfway through requiring rescue?

She twisted the bottle cap, solemnly pulled out her phone, and flipped through the almanac.

Looking at it, Qu Yixian clicked her tongue, unsure whether to believe it or not.

The “Avoid” column on the almanac was glaringly clear: four characters—“Unsuitable for all matters.”

——

After a short break, Qu Yixian thought it was about time and called Yuan Ye.

The phone rang twice before being quickly answered. Yuan Ye said, “Hello. Qu Ye, where are you now?”

Qu Yixian reported her coordinates. Hearing Yuan Ye typing to locate her, she pulled a pack of cigarettes from the door storage pocket.

She rubbed one between her fingers, opened the pack, lit a cigarette, and asked, “Any progress on your side?”

Yuan Ye said, “The matter has been reported. The government has organized the police, fire department, and 120 emergency center to establish a rescue command. One squadron’s worth of personnel has been mobilized. I’ve also received notice; teammates not currently on missions have been dispatched.” He added, “I can arrange twenty more off-road vehicles. After sunset, all will concentrate outside Yumen Pass, ready to enter the desert for the rescue.”

Qu Yixian estimated the scale of the search and said nothing immediately.

After a long pause with no reply, Yuan Ye worried about the satellite phone charges: “Don’t stay silent! Even a hum will justify the call cost.”

Qu Yixian couldn’t find a lighter, so she sat in the car and used the cigarette lighter to ignite the smoke. She said calmly, “The rescue forces seem optimistic. If luck is on our side, they might find him tonight.”

Yuan Ye agreed softly. Just as Qu Yixian was about to hang up, he remembered the phone number he had jotted down minutes earlier and called out hurriedly: “Qu Ye, do you have a pen? I’ll give you a number.”

She had a pen, but no paper.

This was no problem for Qu Yixian. Using the white lining inside the cigarette pack, she neatly wrote down the number Yuan Ye gave her.

“I didn’t have time to ask the name, only that the person’s surname is Fu,” Yuan Ye said, scratching his head, slightly embarrassed.

Qu Yixian didn’t pay much attention, frowning as she stared at the somewhat familiar number, scratching her cheek.

Where had she seen this number before?

Qu Yixian didn’t dwell on the familiarity for long. By almost three o’clock, noticing the temperature had dropped, she closed the car door, started the engine, and drove off.

After about three kilometers, the flat gravel road disappeared. Between the Gobi ridges were sand dunes, the steepest slopes nearly two stories high.

The sand ridges spanned several hundred kilometers horizontally, impossible to gauge the end with the naked eye. They resembled a dragon’s spine lying across the Qaidam Basin. Only by crossing this ridge could she continue westward.

Qu Yixian stopped in advance and, as usual, went ahead to scout the path.

On the Gobi, a few overlapping compacted tire tracks were visible. The tire “tooth marks” at the edges had blurred, and even the tracks were partially covered by fine sand from today’s wind.

She crouched, measuring the tire width with her fingers.

The sand, baked by the sun, was scorching; the heat felt like the dune had opened a fang.

Qu Yixian no longer touched the sand, confident the tracks were left by MT tires.

MT tires are mud-terrain tires. To enhance grip, their treads consist of large blocks and deep grooves, with additional mud-shedding channels, suitable for all-terrain off-road driving.

Having these tracks made the route easier.

She engaged low gear and carefully positioned the vehicle two centimeters offset from the tracks.

Climbing the dunes was tricky. Tire grip and vehicle power were critical; soft sand could trap even a four-wheel-drive. The unstable terrain tested driving skills.

Qu Yixian slid down one meter from the first dune. The uneven surface caused the vehicle to jolt, and the suspension creaked ominously—clear signs of potential frame damage.

She had to reduce speed again, engaging low-range four-wheel-drive to climb the next sand dune.

Because the vehicle’s power and speed were firmly restrained by the sand dunes, the Cruiser failed several times to climb over them. The engine’s roar sounded like a beast’s powerless howl, and the fine sand thrown by the wheels rose like a wave, kicking up dust everywhere.

Just as she was about to cross this ridge, Qu Yixian could see, through the windshield, a flat expanse of dunes and Gobi. After one last forceful press of the accelerator, there was a loud “thud” as the Cruiser suddenly crested the ridge, its undercarriage banging heavily against the ground, producing a continuous “thud-thud” sound.

Qu Yixian’s scalp tightened. “Damn!” she cursed, slamming the brake.

She sat stiffly in the driver’s seat. Before her stretched the vast, flat Gobi. The faith that had carried her up the slope—“Once I cross this cursed sand ridge, good roads will come”—collapsed instantly, shattering without a trace.

After a brief mental blank, four large characters from today’s almanac flashed in her mind: “Unsuitable for all matters.”

Qu Yixian: “…Fuck!”