As I considered this, something felt off. The whole sequence—the Lingyusi, the Weiguo people, starting with deep-seated enmity, then building a harmonious new society together, only for the Weiguo people to be annihilated once more—it all seemed too coincidental.
I couldn't believe the Weiguo people were that foolish, and the Eighteenth Generation Weiwang entering the Lingyusi surely didn't have the simple goal of helping Li Shimin conquer the realm. The only possibility here is that the Weiwang Boshu was fake, swapped out by some trickery!
And I suspected that the Liang Yebo lying in the Weiwang's coffin, the one completely hairless, definitely wasn't the Weiwang, but rather someone from the Central Plains. So, who was the target of this elaborate hoax involving a fake coffin and a forged Weiwang Boshu?
Could it possibly be aimed at me? That seems like overthinking it on such a grand scale.
And why would they try to deceive me? Is my perspective really that significant?
The more I thought about it, the more complex it became, so I simply decided to stop dwelling on it. Just then, Da Xiong spotted the pearls and gold, his mouth watering as he exclaimed, "Hey!
Nobody try to grab these from me this time. Your Uncle Xiong here did the hardest labor, even acting as a double agent for you all.
It’s time for my reward!" With that, he emptied the contents of his backpack and began hauling the treasures piled against the corner wall. After gathering a few armfuls, he laughed heartily at me and said, "Xiao Chuan, this is enough for us to eat Lobster Feast every day for half a year.
From now on, we’ll drink 1982 Bordeaux like water." Seeing him like this, I could only offer a wry smile and shake my head, regretting the moment I doubted Da Xiong's loyalty. The truth was, Da Xiong wasn't entirely without guile, but he was fundamentally simple: loyal to his friends without question.
Even if everyone else harbored secret motives, Da Xiong was unwavering in his devotion to me. So, I quietly resolved right then to trust him absolutely from now on.
After loading up the treasures, we searched the room further and discovered an iron door set into the wall opposite. This iron door was finally different from the previous ones.
Though so rusted it was practically flaking off, the door was ajar. With no hesitation left, I lifted Liang Qian onto my back, Da Xiong hoisted Grandpa, and we filed single file through the iron doorway.
Beyond the iron door was a staircase, over two meters wide, ascending at a forty-five-degree angle. We scrambled up fifty or sixty steps rapidly, feeling the surrounding temperature climb higher and higher.
The stairs then passed through a junction room, where we turned a sharp corner and continued upward. Knowing we were drawing nearer to the surface, we climbed ceaselessly.
After another hundred or so steps, the heat was so intense it forced sweat from us constantly. The steps beneath my feet felt as scorching as the lid of a boiling pot.
Yet, smiles touched the lips of all of us, because through a tightly closed wooden door ahead, a genuine ray of sunlight pierced through. Da Xiong charged to the front, shouting excitedly, "Comrades, I see the dawn of victory!
Charge toward the New China!" Then, he kicked that wooden door open with one mighty swing. At that moment, a blinding flash assaulted my vision, like a stun grenade exploding right in front of my face.
The glare of the sunlight, mixed with rolling waves of heat, rushed out of the doorway, bringing with it billows of churning yellow sand. The volume of sand was significant, surging toward us like a massive wave.
Da Xiong shouted from the front, "Hold steady!" I felt scalding sand flowing past my ankles. I had no choice but to root my stance, close my eyes, and brace for the sandstorm’s baptism.
The sand climbed from my ankles up to my knees. The sheer impact made my legs tremble.
A chill went through my heart—we had finally almost reached the surface, and to be buried alive right here would be a truly tragic end! Just as I thought this, the sand began to recede slowly from my knees, flowing back down to my ankles, finally slowing until it was barely perceptible.
Excitement surged through me; I could finally open my eyes. Da Xiong was quicker still; he had already burst outside the door and was yelling back to us, "Hurry up!
We're out! We’ve finally made it to the surface!" I let out a cry of relief, then followed him, scrambling over the threshold.
The azure sky, the golden grains of sand, and a slight breeze carrying scorching heat washed over me. The feeling was indescribable bliss.
I squinted to adjust to the brightness of the sun, then surveyed our surroundings. We were standing in front of the cluster of buildings surrounding the entrance to the pit.
This area was originally situated below the average ground level, but the sandstorms of that day had buried the structures so deeply that our exit point was now almost level with the surrounding terrain. Many of the large machines used to excavate the pit were buried under the yellow sand; only the tops of a few were visible.
Fortunately, a large excavator was positioned right by the door of the room we exited, shielding us; otherwise, if all the sand had flowed out, we surely would have been buried alive. Due to the rising ground level, the surrounding Yardang pillars looked much shorter, losing some of their imposing grandeur.
But perhaps that was for the best; it would be harder for us to get lost now. Of course, the yellow sand had not managed to conceal the entrance to the massive pit.
Ten or so meters ahead of us was the gaping hole where sand continuously cascaded downward. I glanced at the maw that had consumed countless lives and silently wished that no one would ever discover it again.
Finally, * emerged from the doorway. He brushed the sand off himself, revealing an expression of relief and excitement, taking a deep breath of the hot air.
In the ample light, I specifically checked his shoulder; there was indeed no wound there. I frowned, trying hard not to let my mind wander into unnecessary speculation.
At this point, Da Xiong must have had his fill of fresh air, as he frowned and addressed us, "I say, Xiao Chuan, we’re celebrating too soon. Our vehicle, our tents—everything’s buried.
Are we supposed to walk to Ruoqiang now? Even your Uncle Xiong would turn into a dried husk under this sun!" I nodded, saying, "There's no choice.
Just getting out is a blessing. I remember Old Ni said he would wait for us by the pit entrance for a few days.
If we could run into him, that would be great." Da Xiong nodded; under the fifty-plus-degree heat, his lips were already beginning to chap. *checked his phone and informed us, "Seven days have passed since we entered the pit.
I wonder if Old Ni and the others are still there. Our water and food supplies are limited; we need to hurry forward." So, without another word, we headed toward the direction of our previous camp; if Old Ni was waiting, that was the most likely place to find him.
We trudged forward under the scorching sun, taking a sip of water nearly every twenty meters. I kept checking on Liang Qian, who remained unconscious on my back.
Her complexion was terrible, and her breathing was faint. I thought that if we didn't find Old Ni, she and Grandpa would be the first to succumb.
Worrying for them fueled my pace. The distance of less than three kilometers felt longer to us than the 25,000-li Great Wall.
First, because our strength was almost entirely depleted inside the pit, and second, because each of us was carrying a significant load. *although he wasn't carrying anyone, he was hauling our backpacks, especially Da Xiong's treasures, which were dead weight.
I desperately wanted to tell * to discard the treasure and scout ahead, but Da Xiong absolutely refused, claiming if the treasure was thrown away, he would just sit down right there and achieve Nirvana. I couldn't be bothered to curse him, needing to conserve my energy.
As we trudged onward with such difficulty, we could finally appreciate the suffering endured by Peng Jiamu and Yu Chunchun on their treks here; it was like walking across a searing hot iron griddle. Moreover, the scenery offered no relief: unchanging yellow sand and scattered Yardang rocks, topped by a pure blue sky utterly devoid of even a single bird—a blue so intense it hurt the eyes.
It took us nearly forty minutes to reach the end of the Yardang cluster, the spot where we had pitched our tents. But from afar, we could see only a stretch of yellow sand—nothing else.
The tents and the vehicle were long buried. So we stopped and found shelter under one of the relatively tall Yardang pillars.
This was our last resort—we could only hide for a while, hoping the evening might bring some relief. After setting down the injured, the faces of the three of us were grim.
After a long silence, Da Xiong finally grumbled, "I knew that Old Ni was unreliable! And you trusted him so much." I snapped back, slightly irritated, "Why don't you try it?
Staying out here under this sun for a week, with the constant threat of sandstorms." *seeing my rising temper, patted me, sighed, and asked, "You talked with Old Ni quite a bit; do you know when the next tour group comes through here?" I managed a wry smile, replying, "Old Ni said no one comes here in July or August. Even when the weather cools down, there are only one or two groups per month." Hearing this, Da Xiong and * both turned ashen, momentarily speechless.
After a moment, * sighed, "Then what do we do? The staircase we came out of is blocked by sand.
Are we just supposed to be baked alive here?" At this, Da Xiong snorted and said, "Even if it wasn't blocked, I never want to go near anything related to a pit again. If we're going to survive, I do have one last idea!"
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