Chapter 23: Main Text Chapter 23 Black Desert

Main Text Chapter 23 Black Desert

Sand Sea Demon Nest 12

Professor Chen waved his hands repeatedly: "We can't open this coffin where the Prince Pumo and his wife are buried together; it's a national treasure. We don't have the conditions now, and the environment isn't suitable. Once opened, it would destroy the sealed coffin and the items inside. Our purpose for this trip is to submit an evaluation report to superiors, apply for excavation, or give these ancient civilization relics the protection they deserve. Let Aiguo bring Chu Jian and them to finish the records; I'll write the report myself."

It seems I won't get a chance to see what good things are inside this coffin; although I know the professor makes sense, I can't help feeling disappointed, so I climbed back up with them to the sacrificial chamber on the upper level.

The stone door of the sacrificial chamber was originally sealed with many animal hides, which I chopped up with a flat shovel. Professor Chen said these were cow and sheep hides; to keep the sacrificial chamber dry and block moisture from the holy well, the ancient Pumo people brought live livestock into the chamber to slaughter, then immediately pasted the freshly flayed hides still warm with blood into the cracks of the stone door, while the meat and offal of the cattle and sheep were cleanly cut, leaving only the bones. The stone door would not be opened again until the next sacrifice. This strange ritual of slaughtering livestock, skinning, deboning, and tying dry corpses to wooden stakes was meant to preserve the holy well's water source, so it would never run dry. Ancient desert peoples believed the soul of life comes from sacred water, and this is, to some extent, already very close to Darwin's theory of the origin of life.

We can't use those hides again to seal the stone door; besides camels, there are no large animals around, but the nineteen-peak camels are especially precious to us, so we certainly can't strip camel hides to seal the door—we just put several layers of tape on it.

The archaeological team rested three days in West Night City, then headed south and finally entered the sand sea that locals call the Black Desert. Here there are no more desert poplars, no undulating sand dunes; the surrounding sand dunes have roughly equal relief, like flat buns, endless and boundless. On the ground, looking from any angle, the view is the same, with not a trace of life.

I asked An Luman whether he had ever entered this desert before.

Old man An Luman gave a bitter smile: 'This is a hell of yellow sand; even Old Hu Da doesn't want to come here, and I've only come a few times—this is exactly this time. If it weren't for your commander sir and the white camel that Hu Da dotes on, I wouldn't come even if I had to die a hundred times.'

Complaints aside, An Luman is known as the desert's living map, and it's no empty title. His familiarity with the desert is like a woman fussing over pots and pans; although this is his first time entering this forbidden Black Desert, with his two fox-like eyes he can still spot the desert grass, desert sage, and other plants in the sand hollows. He follows the traces of these plants, together with his years of experience scrambling through the desert, to lead the archaeological team forward.

China's largest inland water system lies in the desert, but the Tarim River and other waterways have mostly seeped into the sand; although the surface shows no vegetation, deep underground perhaps there are rushing, turbulent subterranean rivers.

Some plants specialized for desert life subsist on the slight upward moisture from underground water veins, clinging stubbornly to existence. In fact, besides a few plants, there are many animals here, though most only come out to forage on cold nights.

During the Han Dynasty and even earlier, the Taklamakan was called the 'ancient homeland'; back then the region's desertification was not severe, rivers had not yet seeped underground, and everywhere there were oases, towns, garrisons, Buddhist temples, and relay stations, with countless caravans carrying silk, spices, and tea traveling back and forth, until the Yuan Dynasty, when the famous Italian Marco Polo still passed through here with caravans on his way to the Central Plains.

When China reached the Ming Dynasty, the Ottoman Empire, which spanned Europe and Asia, rose to power; war blocked European-Asian continental trade, making that era belong to the sea, as explorers opened new sea lanes and the main trade routes shifted from land to ocean. This great era is also called the Age of Discovery.

Moreover, as desert erosion worsened and the survival environment grew harsh, the large and small states of the desert collapsed completely, and their former prosperity and splendor were taken away by the heavens.

The Black Desert is the earliest place abandoned by the gods; its civilization ceased as early as the Jin Dynasty. Legend has it that Hu Da's wrath swallowed the cities of infidels, and to this day the Black Desert remains lifeless and gloomy.

On the first day of our departure we encountered a slight sandstorm; the sky blew a faint yellow, but the sandstorm wasn't strong and happened to block the sun, allowing us to travel by day.

Shirley Yang used the notebook left by a British explorer, discussing the route with An Luman as they walked. The notebook recorded that after leaving West Night City, the explorers had found nearby a place with many stone tombs; they intended to return and excavate it, so they had drawn a detailed route in the notes.

An Luman's experience plus Shirley Yang's notebook, although unable to pinpoint our location precisely, gave us great help in terms of distance and direction.

When we camped at night, An Luman found a raised spot; everyone built a sand barrier on the dunes, settled the camels, and then lit a fire on the leeward side of the dune to keep warm.

That day's march was extremely arduous, mainly due to the sand; though the wind wasn't strong, it blew people into agitation, and An Luman kept saying that this is the windy season— in the Black Desert such weather occurs on average every two days, and when there's no wind, the vicious sun will suck the last drop of moisture from travelers' bodies.

Pangzi said: 'The heat is fine; sweating helps lose weight, basking in the sun is pleasant, but the constant wind makes it impossible to talk on the road—really suffocating.'

An Luman said, 'You don't understand; this is only the edge of the Black Desert. It takes another five days' walk to reach the interior. Although I've never gone in, I know some friends who have—they're all survivors who made it back out of the Black Desert.'

The horror of the Black Desert isn't quicksand that traps people, nor gold-eating ants that can devour a car to nothing, nor black storms. Legend says deep inside there is a phantom land where those who enter see lakes, rivers, beauties, divine beasts, snow mountains, and oases; the thirsty and exhausted naturally rush desperately toward those visions, but they never make it, dying of thirst and fatigue. In fact, that's a devil's trap laid to lure people to their deaths there. Still, Hu Da will bless us—Allahu akbar.

Shirley Yang said: 'What they saw might be a mirage in the desert; people who don't know the truth are indeed easily deceived.'

Just then Ye Yixin came over and pulled Shirley Yang aside; the two whispered a few words, after which Shirley Yang turned to me and said, 'We have something to do behind that sand dune.'

I guessed Ye Yixin needed to relieve herself; she's timid and wouldn't go alone, so she wanted Shirley Yang to accompany her. I nodded at them both and instructed, 'Take your flashlight and whistle; if anything happens, blow the whistle hard—go quickly and return quickly.'

Shirley Yang agreed, and she and Ye Yixin held hands as they walked toward the back of a nearby sand dune.

Pangzi asked if I still had alcohol.

I said no; even if we brought a barrel of baijiu, it wouldn't withstand your drinking. Drink a few sips of hot water and hurry to sleep—if we don't find a water source in five or six days, then even the daily water ration per person will have to be cut.

This was just to scare Pangzi; even if we can't find the desert's underground river, I have a way to ensure that everyone can have at least the minimum drinking water.

But that's a last-resort method, very troublesome, yet it certainly works; I learned desert survival techniques when I was in the army. Without water, in the desert it's a dead end—two-thirds of the human body is water, and losing just five percent brings on dehydration symptoms.

An Luman initially refused absolutely to enter the Black Desert; the main reason was that the Black Desert lacks fresh water. Although there are subterranean rivers underground, they're too deep to reach. Digging down from the roots of desert shrubs like sabulaceous plants, at three to five meters you only find damp sand and saline water—the more you drink, the thirstier you get.

An Luman also understands this method; I repeatedly studied its feasibility with him in private, agreeing that when we reach a place where not even sabulaceous plants grow, we will not advance another step—then he consented.

Those who have received desert survival training in the military all know this: in Xinjiang's desert, the shallower layers mostly contain mineral-rich saline water; digging down at the root neck of desert plants yields damp sand and saline water, which through simple solar evaporation and filtration can produce a small amount of fresh water—though little, it's enough to sustain life.

Just then the wind and sand grew a bit stronger; a sharp whistle came from behind the opposite dune, startling everyone, who instinctively grabbed their entrenching shovels and rifles and ran toward the scene. Fortunately it was extremely close—less than two hundred steps away—so, taking three steps at a time, we arrived in an instant.