Han Chong scoffed, "Who cares about grave robbing? As long as I can find my physical body, I'll be grateful. I have no desire to stay in this shell any longer." With that, he glanced at Lu Zong, fearing the other man might have designs on him. However, although Lu Zong possessed a certain rogue quality, he wasn't entirely low-minded and didn't say anything. Lu Zong maintained a calm tone, "Take a look at the pictures on these jars. They seem to depict a desert scene. I wonder if this is the desert they're referring to." He then pointed to the images above with both fingers.

Ma Xiong stared intently and indeed, he saw that the jars were undeniably painted with a desert landscape. He couldn't decipher the meaning, but it didn't look like their current location because there were no tents in the drawings. Sensing a discrepancy, he voiced his confusion. Lu Zong paused in thought, then set the jar down and peered carefully outside. Outside, there were still endless, dense tents, fluttering softly like a massive funeral procession, casting a heavy, oppressive atmosphere that made it hard to suppress feelings of sorrow. He quickly averted his gaze, and seeing Han Chong's radiant figure, hope for life immediately rekindled within him. That recent scene was utterly unbearable for an ordinary person, and he, being ordinary, could not endure such desolate tones. Yet, this girl had survived in such an environment for over ten days—it was astonishing. Amidst his amazement was pity; the girl truly was pitiful. Who knew what immense suffering they had endured?

Yet, Han Chong felt no pain at all. Suddenly remembering something, Ma Xiong asked, "By the way, young lady, what is your name? We can't keep calling you Han Chong or 'girl' forever, can we?"

Hearing Ma Xiong's question, the girl's expression instantly darkened. Her gaze, filled with fear, swept over Ma Xiong's inquisitive face before settling on Lu Zong's determined one. Even the handsome, sharply defined features of Lu Zong offered her no solace now. The fear on her face did not lessen in the slightest. Both men were utterly baffled by Han Chong's sudden terror and stared at her even more intently.

Han Chong lowered her head, silent for a long time, before finally deciding to tell them the truth. Her voice trembled slightly as she spoke: "Actually, my name is Ge Mei. Am I the Ge Mei you mentioned?"

"What? Ge Mei? You are our graduate student Ge Mei? How is that possible? How could you possibly be inside Han Chong?" Ma Xiong and Lu Zong stared, eyes wide with disbelief, at the girl speaking such nonsense.

"My name really is Ge Mei, and what you described—I can picture it; that was me." As she said this, she scratched her head sheepishly, then added, "Oh, right, Ma Xiong, let me ask you. That romantic scene you described with Ge Mei—was it real or fake? You absolutely cannot do anything to betray me; I am still an unmarried woman."

Ma Xiong had been staring intently at the girl claiming to be Ge Mei, uncertain if she spoke the truth. But what reason would she have to lie to him? Moreover, when he connected her words to the facts, they aligned surprisingly closely. This proved she wasn't fabricating things. He quickly explained, "Oh, I apologize. That romantic scene was just something I made up on the spot to calm you down. You don't need to take it to heart at all. If I had actually done anything, I wouldn't have admitted it."

Ge Mei smiled faintly. "I figured as much. Looking at Han Chong's excellent physical condition, how could she possibly marry a roughneck like you? Heh heh." She glanced at Lu Zong, subtly implying he was the one benefiting here. Lu Zong, meanwhile, wondered if she, currently inhabiting Han Chong’s body, had engaged in any inappropriate behavior. However, he had only just learned it was Han Chong’s body, and surely she wouldn't mistreat her own vessel. But hearing that she was already cohabiting with Fatty made him feel a pang of sadness. Although the mistake wasn't his, the thought still brought a measure of sorrow.

Ge Mei seemed to sense Lu Zong's distress and clarified, "It's nothing, really. I was just bluffing you both. Fatty never even touched me. I only used Fatty to shield myself from risk so others wouldn't dare approach me easily. I don't actually like that fat slob; he’s the reason I'm homeless now."

Ma Xiong mused aloud, "Then, in that case, the person inside Ge Mei's body must be Han Chong. No wonder Fatty kept calling Ge Mei 'Han Chong' behind her back; that person really was named Han Chong. But as far as I know, Han Chong was allied with Fatty. Doesn't that mean Han Chong betrayed us all?"

He glanced at Lu Zong, who seemed to have reached the same conclusion and looked deeply troubled. Ma Xiong tried to comfort him, "It's alright, Lu Zong. Until we know the full truth, we must never give up on finding it. Perhaps there is some secret they couldn't reveal. I think we should wait and see. I believe Han Chong was forced into it. Aren't people often pushed to extremes?"

Lu Zong was moved by the words and repeated them, "Yes, people are often pushed to extremes."

However, as soon as he spoke the words aloud, he felt they sounded slightly inappropriate, and his face flushed slightly. He looked at Ge Mei, and she was blushing too. It seemed he had subconsciously acquired the makings of a rogue.

With a sigh, he conceded, "You're right, Ma Xiong. I think we should set off soon. The sooner we find Han Chong, the sooner everything will be clear."

"Yes, let's leave right now and search for traces of them. We might actually find them," Ma Xiong replied, glancing toward the window. It seemed eternally day or night here; they had been present for at least five or six hours, yet the sun outside remained fiercely bright, utterly unmoving in the same position.

He looked around at the expanse of stark white canvas surrounding them, feeling an ominous chill. The only breaks in the uniformity were Ge Mei's captivating presence and the rough, dark ceramic jars. Lu Zong was already heading toward the doorway, clearly abandoning the jars to search for Han Chong. Without time to think deeply, Ma Xiong frantically swept a glance over the jars and followed.

But in the split second he turned, the images lingering in his eyes suddenly coalesced into a strange scene: the jars seemed to connect, and the pictures on each one joined together to form a single, new image. He cried out to the two hurrying figures in a tone of startled excitement, "You two, come look! Look what I've found!" He then crouched down to examine the chamber pots.

Lu Zong and Ge Mei heard Ma Xiong’s call, sensing he must have discovered something unusual. They hurried back to look. Seeing Ma Xiong mirroring Lu Zong's earlier posture, examining the jars with surprising professionalism, Lu Zong couldn't help but mock him, "Ma Xiong, what are you doing? Did you figure out who made these jars? Let's go. Don't waste time here; those are probably just placed randomly; they likely hold no information we need." Having said that, Lu Zong turned to leave.

But Ma Xiong called him back. Ma Xiong hurriedly pointed at the designs on the jars. "Look quickly, this vertical line etched on the corner of these jars—do you know what it means?"

Lu Zong leaned in closer and indeed saw it: next to the orderly desert patterns, there was a nearly imperceptible vertical scratch. He gave Ma Xiong a puzzled look, surprised that such an ostensibly careless man could notice such a minute mark—truly, appearances can be deceiving. But what did this scratch mean? Pressed for time, he didn't dwell on it, merely urging, "It was probably just an accidental scratch during production; it's nothing to worry about. Let's hurry."

Ma Xiong, however, ignored Lu Zong's advice. Stubbornly, he bent down again, picked up another jar from the floor, and his profound gaze ignited once more as he pointed at the markings. "Look here, this jar has two vertical lines! Can this not prove something?"

If one line was a coincidence, then two lines must be intentional. There had to be a mystery involved. He quickly crouched down and grabbed one at random from the floor, inspecting it. It indeed had several vertical scratches. He counted them: thirteen.

He looked at the jars with delight. This was incredible; the creators must have embedded a significant amount of information within these vessels. Perhaps one of them held the key to their rescue. He joyfully crouched, closely examining every jar. Sure enough, each jar had vertical lines, and no two jars shared the same number. This proved they were produced together, all by the same hand.

But what did these lines signify?

He looked over at Ma Xiong, who was also intently studying the jars, his interest only growing. Ma Xiong seemed to be doing something methodical. Ma Xiong quickly asked, "Hey, Ma Xiong, what exactly have you discovered?"

Ma Xiong took the jar with one vertical line and the jar with two lines, holding them up to Lu Zong. "Look at the two images on these jars."

Lu Zong looked with astonished eyes. The patterns on the jars were indeed problematic. He realized that if the image on the first jar were placed next to the image on the second, they formed a complete picture.

Could it be that these two images were meant to be continuous? He became excited. He picked up the jar marked thirteen from the floor, and then immediately found the one marked fourteen. Sure enough, things unfolded just as he suspected: these two jars were indeed continuous, their patterns fitting together perfectly when placed side by side.