It was quite unexpected to stumble upon a military exercise in a place like the desert. It was a stroke of luck that the few of them weren't carrying any dangerous weapons, or they might have been shot down as terrorists.

They rushed forward with their hands raised, explaining the situation clearly, which finally allowed them to breathe a heavy sigh of relief.

The officer didn't seem like a bad person, so he offered them some dry rations—supplies that were literally life-saving. The group immediately tore into them, dividing everything up in a flash, and quickly replenished their water. Good heavens, it had been ages since they felt such relief. In the subsequent conversation, they learned the officer was a native Xinjiang ziwa, having served nearly a decade here, finally earning the rank of company commander. Seeing how utterly exhausted they looked, he suggested, “You all look worn out. Why don’t you rest in the tent? I’ll take you back to the base at daybreak.”

The five exchanged glances and nodded. Rest at this moment was practically more vital than life itself, judging by their dust-caked appearances.

They were escorted into the tent, where the bedding consisted of a long row of large, earthen kang beds. They paid no mind to the dirt and disarray, immediately collapsing onto the surface and falling asleep. Though the beds were undeniably hard, in their minds, they were the most comfortable things they had slept on in half their lives.

When they awoke, they were already back at the base. Given their special status, they promptly reported the situation to the Xinjiang government. Once confirmed, the company commander prepared to send them back that very night.

Lu Zong had initially intended to ask the commander to transport the mummies as well, but the thought of those rough soldiers potentially damaging the desiccated bodies made him abandon the idea. In the end, he decided it was best to let the archaeologists come and excavate them slowly; after all, they were the professionals.

Back at the Cultural Relics Bureau, after a brief report, they quickly dispatched personnel to secure the site. Lu Zong then took the group to his own small apartment, letting them freshen up before renting a room right next to his. His own tiny dwelling was too messy, so he did a quick clean-up to provide temporary lodging for the three men. The two girls settled into the adjacent room. Lu Zong planned to rest for a while, and once the Bureau had cleared out the mummies, he would take the group out to explore the boundless scenery here.

People say Xinjiang’s Hami melons are as famous as its beautiful women. This prospect was an infinite temptation for Fatty, that notorious libertine. He couldn't even dream of resting and immediately went out to wander the streets that very day. Lu Zong and Ma Xiong paid him no mind, letting him do whatever he pleased. They, however, were spent; they planned to sleep for a solid seven days and nights.

When people are extremely fatigued, their judgment is weakest. Quan Wan forgot Fatty’s lingering obsession with the mummies and promptly drifted off to sleep.

When he woke, he couldn't tell the time. He just noticed that the two girls had tidied up his room until it was spotlessly clean. A wave of shame washed over him. He had lived in this room for over a decade without any change, yet today it looked so pleasing and beautiful.

Without wasting words, he pulled Han Chong’s slender, jade-like arm, expressing his overwhelming gratitude until tears streamed down his face, immediately followed by a surge of lust. In his fluster, to disguise his desire, he announced, “Today, I’m treating you all to a meal. Order whatever you want, we’ll pick the most expensive things on the menu!” He chuckled.

In the days since their return, they hadn't truly enjoyed a proper meal. Their spirits were high. Unfortunately, Lu Zong rummaged through every drawer and cabinet but couldn’t uncover much cash. In the end, he tallied it up: they could barely afford a bowl of huitou noodles at the Xinjiang noodle shop downstairs. This felt terribly stingy, considering these companions had shared life-and-death moments with him.

Lu Zong called the accountant at the Cultural Relics Bureau, hoping to borrow some funds. But since the director wasn't back, it was inconvenient to withdraw anything. Lu Zong didn't press, turning instead to Ma Xiong, hoping to squeeze some money out of him.

But Ma Xiong was just as broke, having walked around penniless for over thirty years. Besides, they had just crawled out of a tomb; merely keeping their lives was a blessing.

Just as everyone was agonizing over money matters, a knock sounded on the door, accompanied by Fatty’s boisterous shout: “Lu Zong, Ma Xiong, hurry and open up for Fatty! Fatty’s back!”

Ma Xiong, catching sight of the utterly exhausted Fatty, asked curiously, “Fatty, weren't you out chasing skirts? Why are you covered in dirt?”

Fatty mumbled evasively, “Your Fatty recently struck a small windfall, boys! You can all spend freely for the next few days, hahaha!”

Ma Xiong looked at Fatty suspiciously. He noted the sand covering his body, the weathered look etched by the wind on his face, and most notably, the faint smell of decay clinging to him, looking at Fatty in confusion.

Lu Zong looked at Fatty and stated plainly, “Why even ask? He stashed a mummy and went out to peddle it.”

Fatty looked at Lu Zong awkwardly. “You figured it out? You have to understand, a man has his necessities.”

Lu Zong looked back with sharp finality. “It doesn't matter. We’re desperate for cash right now anyway.”

A cheer erupted among the group. Finally, they saw the prospect of lunch! Though it was money earned through questionable means—or perhaps not so questionable, considering it was acquired at the cost of their own lives.

After spending several days wandering around, they felt they had no more official business. Their respective companies urgently summoned them back to submit reports and so forth. Lu Zong was so infuriated he nearly fainted on the spot. This wasn't a state-sponsored vacation, yet at the end of it, they couldn't even earn money for a meal, only to be forced to write reports for them.

It wasn't until the Director of the Cultural Relics Bureau rewarded Lu Zong with a substantial sum of money that the knot of resentment in Lu Zong’s heart finally loosened. He obtained Han Chong’s address from the Director and prepared to visit her. He wondered if that girl would dislike him after so long apart. Perhaps she was currently nestled in some handsome man’s arms. Thinking of this, his desire to see Han Chong immediately intensified, as he was, after all, still unmarried. In modern society, bachelors like him were becoming rare.

Han Chong worked at a language research institute in Beijing. Since such institutions were few, Lu Zong located Han Chong’s residence quickly.

He knocked on the door and called out, “Han Chong, is that you? I’m waiting right outside.”

Han Chong flung the door open in surprise, gazing at the weary Lu Zong standing outside, and immediately threw her arms around him.

Seeing Han Chong’s distressed expression softened Lu Zong’s heart instantly. He asked, “What’s wrong, Han Chong? Who bullied you?”

Han Chong shushed him. “Be quiet, give me three minutes.”

Looking down at the delicate figure nestled in his embrace, Lu Zong couldn't bear to waste those three minutes. He took deep, steady breaths, inhaling the fresh, clean scent of Han Chong’s skin. A tingling sensation ran through his body. Especially as those two mounds of flesh pressed and rubbed against him, it severely tested Lu Zong’s self-control.

Fortunately, it was only three minutes, and he managed to endure it with great effort.

He glanced at the wall plastered with her densely packed schedule, then looked back at Han Chong, asking, “Han Chong, what is it? Don’t be sad. Tell me anything; I’ll share the burden.”

Han Chong wiped away a tear. “I thought I’d never see you again.”

Lu Zong gently pulled Han Chong’s head closer to his chest. “Listen, my heart beats only for you. If I don't see you, it will wither.”

Only then did Han Chong wipe her tears and playfully punch Lu Zong’s solid chest. Watching her coquettish display sent a flush of heat through Lu Zong. He knew that as a man, he had to take the initiative now. He gently tilted his neck, angling it forty-five degrees. The natural, delicate fragrance of her skin numbed his nerves, and he leaned in to kiss her.

“Oh, Lu Zong, do you have any time free recently?” Han Chong suddenly inquired.

Just as he was about to kiss her, Lu Zong froze mid-motion, coughed, and asked with a wry smile if she had called at such an opportune moment. Adjusting his thoughts slightly, he looked at Han Chong’s serious face and asked, “What’s wrong? Is something the matter?”

Han Chong explained, “A tomb belonging to Cao Cao was recently unearthed by the Municipal Cultural Bureau. It's a major archaeological project. I was hoping to see if you had time to come with me. The Bureau has assigned me as a cultural consultant.”

Lu Zong frustratedly slapped his forehead. He had planned to use this time to nurture his relationship with Han Chong, but he hadn't anticipated this kind of event arising.

He had no choice but to agree. “That works too. I’m used to being busy; I can’t sit idle.” Seeing Han Chong’s delighted, bouncy demeanor, he playfully tapped her nose. “You’re truly like a little child.”

Since their departure wasn't until three days later, he figured they should enjoy themselves while they were still home with fewer constraints. Although Beijing was a place rich in culture and refinement, it wasn't overwhelmingly prosperous, especially given the secluded location of this small research institute. This meant their activities were limited to sitting in a small park or visiting nearby bars for a drink and some flirting.

That evening, after eating the meal Han Chong had cooked herself, the atmosphere became noticeably awkward. The issue at hand was the most important and most awkward one: where would Lu Zong sleep?

Finally, amid his stammering apologies, Lu Zong said, “I think I’ll just get a room at a hotel. You are a girl, after all.”

Han Chong remained silent, watching Lu Zong slowly rise and walk toward the door with a dejected air. Suddenly, she turned back, unwillingly, and asked, “You’re not staying?”

Han Chong burst into laughter, and Lu Zong returned an awkward chuckle. He had hoped Han Chong would make a plea for him to stay. He would have certainly agreed to that plea. But she was patient to a fault; there was nothing to be done.

Han Chong brought out two quilts for Lu Zong, telling him to sleep on the sofa. She apologized profusely. “I’m sorry, the house isn't set up for a man to sleep in a bed. You can sleep here tonight; we leave in just a few days anyway.”

Lu Zong inhaled the fragrant scent emanating from the quilt and nearly fainted. A woman’s quilt smelled entirely different from his own.

That night, he didn't sleep a wink because the quilt smelled too sweet.