Wang Feifei told everyone that since the day was too hot, they should rest now and set off in the evening.

Just then, a string of camels slowly approached them, ridden by an old man who looked to be about fifty years old.

The old man jumped down from his camel upon seeing them and hurried to the front of the group, asking, "Are you the ones going to the Taklamakan Desert for archaeology?"

Wang Feifei nodded and asked, "May I ask who you are?"

At that moment, the leader of the rescue team walked straight over to them and spoke rapidly to Wang Feifei in French, which Liu Dashao couldn't understand at all.

After the man finished speaking, Wang Feifei nodded and told the group, "This man is our guide into the desert. The Golden Ancient City is deep within the Taklamakan Desert; it's quite far, and impossible to reach without a camel train. This elder has led several expeditions into the Taklamakan Desert; with him, our chances are much higher."

The old man heard this and chuckled, "Is that so? Is that so? 'Taklamakan' in the national tongue means 'you can go in but never come out.' Without a good guide, how could you possibly get out? Don't let Liu Dashao’s age fool you; he is quite capable."

As soon as he finished speaking, he offered a brief self-introduction. This old man was named Kelama. Liu Dashao, unfamiliar with Xinjiang's language and culture, couldn't grasp the full meaning of the name, but because it sounded so similar to Taklamakan, he instinctively felt the old man was reliable.

Kelama had lived on the borders of the Taklamakan Desert since childhood and knew this wasteland intimately, having guided countless expeditions in and out. It seemed this old Kelama would require a decent sum of money to hire.

Time flew by quickly, and when they looked up, it was evening, and the temperature had dropped. Due to the desert's significant temperature fluctuation, they had worn light clothing during the day but now needed heavy cotton robes wrapped around them for the night.

They ate a little something, gathered their essential supplies, and mounted a camel each. Old Kelama mounted the lead camel and let out a long cry of "Aoyoyoyo," and the camel train set off into the Taklamakan Desert.

Under the boundless starry sky, the camel train moved slowly across the sands. The moon that night was exceptionally bright, illuminating the ancient ruins—whose rooftops were all that remained above the sand—lodged askew in the dunes. Dried-out Populus euphratica trees lay peacefully on the yellow sand, appearing exquisitely beautiful against the backdrop of the countless stars.

Occasionally, an unidentifiable creature would appear on the dead branches of a Populus tree. With a sharp cry from Kelama, the animals scattered in every direction, sketching a map of their journey across the desert with their movements.

Dune after dune rose like small pyramids scattered across the desert. When a light breeze blew, the rolling yellow sand seemed to surge forward, guided in an orderly fashion toward a single direction.

Since the Golden Ancient City was situated deep in the heart of the Taklamakan Desert, theoretically, they could reach their destination by heading forward, left, or right.

However, for safety, they chose to travel west, following the Tarim River (Peacock River) to loop around toward the Golden Ancient City. Although this route would take longer, having the guidance of the river meant they were less likely to get lost—this was Kelama's suggestion, of course.

The Tarim River, in a sense, could be considered the origin of the thirty-six kingdoms of the Western Regions. Put another way, without the Tarim River, the kingdoms within the Taklamakan Desert would have found it nearly impossible to survive.

From various archaeological records, it was known that the primary reason for the demise of once-glorious ancient states was the scarcity of water resources.

It was now the middle of the night, and the temperature was extremely low. A thick layer of ice had formed across the surface of the Tarim River, and countless dead Populus euphratica trees lined the riverbed. Seeing this scene, one could only imagine the former glory of the Tarim River.

The desert at night was incredibly beautiful, giving one the feeling of being inside an Arabian Nights tale. Even old Kelama, who made his living wrestling with the Taklamakan, sighed with emotion. Waving his whip, he began singing a traditional Xinjiang folk song.

Hearing Kelama sing, Fan Debiao’s own musical spirit was roused. He started humming along to Kelama’s tune, eager to sing but unable to speak the Xinjiang language.

Looking at the others, they seemed to have gone completely wild with joy, shouting from the backs of their camels. Centered around Wang Feifei, they engaged in playful roughhousing. Watching Wang Feifei’s smile under the moonlight, she seemed remarkably pure, a completely different person from when she was in a meeting.

As they passed small sand dunes, a pair of tiny insects darted across the crests, leaving behind exquisitely beautiful tracks. Several people pulled out their digital cameras and began snapping photos rapidly. The flashes of light caused Liu Dashao some dizziness.

Liu Dashao nudged his camel alongside Fan Debiao and old Kelama, and the three rode abreast.

Liu Dashao said to old Kelama, "The scenery of the Taklamakan Desert is truly beautiful. I never visited before and thought it was just endless yellow sand, completely lifeless. I never expected to see such vibrancy now."

Old Kelama replied, "The desert is certainly beautiful; all of this is a visual feast bestowed upon you by Mr. Hu Da. However, this is not yet the true Taklamakan. You haven't entered the real Taklamakan yet. Where the Tarim River runs inside the real Taklamakan, there is no water."

Hearing that there was no water in the real Taklamakan, Liu Dashao became worried about their water supply and quickly asked Kelama if they had brought enough.

Old Kelama said, "We certainly brought enough water, young man, don't worry. Even if an emergency leaves us without water, my camel train and I have been in this desert for so many years; if necessary, we can find an underground river."

What Kelama said made sense. Many ancient cities were buried beneath the sand, and those ancient riverbeds naturally slept beneath the sand as well, thus forming underground rivers.

These camels were essential tools for finding such underground rivers, and coupled with old Kelama’s decades of experience, the water problem shouldn't be major.

The group traveled in the desert until past one in the morning. Wang Feifei and the others, having been excited all night, were exhausted and slumped over their camels, falling asleep. Liu Dashao had initially intended for Fan Debiao and him to admire the desert scenery together, but Fan Debiao, ever the realist, had no appreciation for aesthetics. He told Liu Dashao that humans must follow the laws of nature and sleep when it's night, then promptly slumped onto his camel's hump and fell asleep, drooling slightly, perhaps dreaming of beautiful girls.

This camel train was accustomed to this route, so they knew where to go without Kelama having to direct them. At this time, Kelama’s eyes were closed; it was unclear if he was resting his mind or actually asleep.

Liu Dashao thought he looked quite composed and tried to imitate him. However, after closing his eyes for less than a minute, his head grew heavy, and he slumped onto his camel's back, asleep.

He didn't know how long he slept, but the camel train suddenly stopped. Liu Dashao lurched forward in surprise, nearly falling off his mount.

Fan Debiao, unfortunately, was positioned badly. A loud "Ouch!" was heard as he tumbled off the camel's back, crying out in pain and cursing.

At that moment, Wang Feifei and the others woke up. Seeing Fan Debiao in that state, they couldn't help but burst into loud laughter.