Wang Feifei told everyone to rest during the hot daytime and prepare to set off at night.
At that moment, a camel caravan slowly approached. Riding the largest camel was an old man, about fifty years old.
As soon as the old man saw the group, he jumped off his camel and hurriedly walked toward them, asking, “Are you the team heading into the Taklamakan Desert for archaeology?”
Wang Feifei nodded and asked, “May I ask who you are?”
Just then, the leader of the rescue team walked straight up and quickly spoke to Wang Feifei in French. Liu Dashao couldn’t understand a word.
After the man finished speaking, Wang Feifei nodded and addressed the group, “This is our guide into the desert. The ancient golden city lies deep within the Taklamakan Desert, quite far from here. Without camels, it would be impossible to reach. This old man has led several expeditions into the Taklamakan. With him, our chances of success are much higher.”
After hearing this, the old man laughed and said, “That’s right! Taklamakan in Chinese means ‘enter but never return.’ Without a good guide, you might get in, but will you get out? Don’t underestimate Liu Dashao—Liu Dashao is actually quite capable!”
He then introduced himself briefly. His name was Karama. Liu Dashao, unfamiliar with Xinjiang’s language and culture, didn’t know what the name meant, but it sounded similar to “Taklamakan,” so he instinctively felt the old man was trustworthy.
Karama had lived near the edge of the Taklamakan Desert since childhood and had deep knowledge of the area. He had guided countless expeditions in and out of the desert. It seemed that only with sufficient funds could one hire him.
Time passed quickly, and before long it was night. The temperature dropped. Due to the large temperature difference in the desert, people wore shorts and light clothes during the day, but needed heavy coats at night.
Everyone had a quick meal and packed essential supplies. Each person mounted a camel. Karama, riding the lead camel, shouted, “Ya-yo-yo-yo!” and the caravan began its journey into the Taklamakan Desert.
Under a sky full of stars, the camel caravan slowly moved across the desert. The moon was especially bright that night, illuminating the desert where ancient buildings, now buried except for their rooftops, tilted out of the sand. Dead poplar trees lay quietly on the golden dunes, and under the starry sky, the scene was breathtakingly beautiful.
Occasionally, an unidentifiable animal appeared among the branches of the dead poplars. With a shout from Karama, they scattered, and the caravan’s path resembled a navigation chart drawn across the sands.
One dune after another, like small pyramids, dotted the landscape. A gentle breeze blew, and the golden sands seemed to follow some invisible guidance, flowing in a unified direction.
Since the ancient golden city lay deep within the Taklamakan Desert, theoretically, any direction—forward, left, or right—could lead to the destination.
However, for safety, the group chose to head west, following the Kongque River to circle around to the golden city. Though this route was longer, the river served as a guide, making it less likely to get lost. This was Karama’s suggestion.
In a sense, the Kongque River was the origin of the ancient thirty-six kingdoms of the Western Regions. In other words, without the Kongque River, kingdoms in the Taklamakan Desert would have struggled to survive.
Archaeological records show that the main reason for the downfall of once-prosperous ancient kingdoms was the lack of water resources.
It was now midnight, and the temperature had dropped sharply. The Kongque River was already frozen with a thick layer of ice. Along the riverbank, countless dead poplar trees stood as silent witnesses. Seeing this scene, one could easily imagine how magnificent the river must have once been.
The desert at night was incredibly beautiful, evoking a sense of being in a fairy tale. Even Karama, who made a living in the Taklamakan, was moved. He raised his whip, waved it energetically, and began singing a Xinjiang folk song.
Inspired by Karama’s singing, Fan Debiao also got into the mood. He tried to hum along, imitating the old man’s tune, though he couldn’t speak the Xinjiang language.
Looking at the others, they were clearly overjoyed, shouting and laughing as they rode their camels. At the center of it all was Wang Feifei, smiling under the moonlight with a rare innocence—completely different from her usual serious demeanor during meetings.
Occasionally, they passed small dunes where tiny insects scurried about, leaving delicate trails in the sand. Several people eagerly pulled out their digital cameras and began snapping photos, the flashes momentarily dazzling Liu Dashao.
Liu Dashao guided his camel to ride alongside Fan Debiao and Old Karama, the three riding side by side.
Liu Dashao said to the old man, “The scenery of the Taklamakan Desert is truly beautiful. Before coming here, I thought it was just endless yellow sands, lifeless and dull. But now, I see it’s actually quite enchanting.”
Karama replied, “Of course it’s beautiful! This is the visual feast given to us by Allah. But we haven’t even entered the real Taklamakan yet. The Kongque River inside the desert has no water at all.”
Hearing that there was no water in the Taklamakan, Liu Dashao grew concerned about their water supply and quickly asked Karama if they had enough.
Karama replied confidently, “Of course we brought enough water! Don’t worry, young comrade. Even if something unexpected happens and we run out, I and my camels have been through this desert for decades. We can find underground rivers when necessary.”
Indeed, many ancient kingdoms had been buried beneath the sands, their river systems long gone underground. Camels were essential for locating these hidden water sources, and with Karama’s decades of experience, the water issue shouldn’t be a major problem.
The caravan traveled through the desert until past one o’clock in the morning. Wang Feifei and the others, exhausted from their night of excitement, had fallen asleep on their camels. Liu Dashao had originally wanted to enjoy the desert scenery with Fan Debiao, but Fan, ever the realist, had no interest in admiring the view. He insisted that people should follow nature’s rhythm—night was for sleeping—and soon fell asleep on the hump of his camel, drooling as he dozed off, probably dreaming of beautiful women.
The camels were well accustomed to this route, so even without Karama’s guidance, they knew where to go. At this moment, Karama had his eyes closed—whether resting or asleep, no one could tell.
Liu Dashao thought Karama looked cool doing that, so he tried to imitate him. But the moment he closed his eyes for less than a minute, his head drooped, and he fell asleep on the camel’s back.
No one knew how long they had slept when suddenly the camel caravan came to a stop. Liu Dashao nearly fell off his camel in surprise.
Fan Debiao wasn’t so lucky. With a loud “Aaaah!” he tumbled off his camel, landing hard and cursing in pain.
At that moment, Wang Feifei and the others woke up. Seeing Fan Debiao’s clumsy state, they couldn’t help but burst into laughter.
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