Going to the hospital to see Pin Ting was, for Mu Dai, truly just “seeing.”

Pin Ting was asleep, her black hair spread across the snow-white hospital pillow, creating a stark contrast. The faint color in her cheeks seemed like a good sign: with the ominous strip gone, she would gradually recover, wouldn’t she?

Luo Ren and Uncle Zheng had been called away by the doctor, presumably to discuss treatment recommendations. Mu Dai sat alone by the bedside, like a caring older sister, sometimes tucking in Pin Ting’s blanket, sometimes smoothing her hair.

Until Luo Ren’s voice came from behind: “Let’s go, Mu Dai.”

Mu Dai, full of excitement, quickly got up. Luo Ren reminded her, “Do you want to use the restroom first?”

Good point. Later, in the dark desert, there would be no place to relieve herself. Mu Dai ran off, but turned back at the door to remind him: “Wait for me!”

She had no sense of security, as if he might drive away without her.

In the melting night, the car drove into the vast Gobi desert again, but this time it moved steadily—no speeding, no scaring her with cliff edges. Mu Dai lowered the window slightly and closed her eyes to feel the wind. Perhaps it was the lingering warmth of the day, or perhaps it was her good mood, but the wind on her face wasn’t as cold as she had imagined; instead, it felt unusually comfortable.

Until Luo Ren reminded her: “Keep feeling that wind, and tomorrow morning your face will be covered with wind cuts.”

Mu Dai reluctantly closed the window, then suddenly remembered something and asked Luo Ren: “Don’t camels sleep at night?”

“Of course they sleep. That’s why you’ll have to go in and wake it up. If it’s too tired to get up, you’ll have to help it stand. Also, camels are very irritable when woken from sleep. They’ll not only kick you but also bite you. But don’t worry, you can climb walls anyway.”

Mu Dai thought for a moment: “Then I don’t want to ride anymore. Let’s come back during the day. I’ve seen on TV that camels are so tall and heavy—how could I possibly lift one? I can’t even move a horse.”

She actually believed him? Luo Ren held back his laughter, and after a while said: “It’s fine, we’ll find a camel that likes to stay up late.”

Mu Dai found this quite reasonable: just like people, there must be camels that enjoy staying up late.

The car slowly came to a stop.

This was a privately run desert-themed park, with entertainment options including whole roasted lamb, dancing around bonfires, camel riding, and several simple yurts for overnight stays.

Luo Ren had called ahead, and when the car arrived, someone was already waiting with two camels. It was Mu Dai’s first time seeing a camel up close, and she was both surprised and delighted. Camels were truly tall—more than two meters including the hump. They had yellowish-brown fur, what seemed like double eyelids, and long eyelashes that made them quite endearing.

She wanted to touch one but feared being kicked. Luo Ren gently pushed her from behind: “Here, I specially picked one that likes staying up late. It won’t kick you.”

Mu Dai held her breath and slowly stroked the camel. The rough texture of its fur, its heavy breathing, and its clear eyes that even reflected her image—it was like entering another world. In that moment, all thoughts of feng, huang, and luan clasps and seven ominous strips were cast aside.

It was like in a poem she loved: pouring rain, no umbrella, yet still stopping to bend down and smell the rain-soaked leaves.

Even in the most difficult circumstances, there are still moments of beauty.

Luo Ren was a regular customer. After paying the deposit, the staff left with complete confidence. Mu Dai, on the other hand, was anxious. While tying sand protectors around her shoes, she asked Luo Ren: “How can they just leave us? What if the camel goes crazy? What if it runs away with me?”

Luo Ren looked into Mu Dai’s eyes and said softly: “Trust me, I won’t let it run away.”

“If it runs away, I won’t get my deposit back.”

This was probably the most beautiful night of her life so far.

The camel’s pace was steady, but its broad feet sinking into the sand still caused a gentle swaying motion. Some call camels “ships of the desert,” and indeed, it felt like sailing—leisurely and pleasant.

The wind was gentle, caressing her face. The scattered stars in the sky, even if they were skeletons, were lovely bones. Something seemed wrong with the bell’s clapper—the camel bell didn’t ring consistently but occasionally made a single chime, adding an ancient, distant charm.

Luo Ren rode alongside her. The saddle had special rings in front for holding lanterns, and he held the reins of both camels, occasionally tugging gently to control direction.

He even knew how to lead camels?

Luo Ren seemed to read her thoughts: “I come here often, sometimes with Uncle, sometimes with Pin Ting.”

Oh, no wonder.

Mu Dai lowered her head and muttered softly: “You could have taken me somewhere I haven’t been before.”

“What’s something in the desert you haven’t experienced? Tell me.”

His hearing was amazingly good. Mu Dai was startled: “I was just saying.”

Luo Ren didn’t respond immediately. After a while, he leaned down and extinguished the lantern.

As the light suddenly disappeared, Mu Dai found herself in complete darkness. Luo Ren said, “Something you haven’t experienced—let’s just wander, with no destination in mind.”

This wasn’t exactly… fun…

Once the lantern went out, shadowy figures seemed to loom all around. The slightest sound made her uneasy. After a while, it became frighteningly quiet, and even the camel bell seemed eerie. Mu Dai felt unsettled and looked down several times.

The story of the ominous strips swirled in her mind again. She kept imagining one of them emerging from the yellow sand, clinging to the camel’s leg, and eerily crawling upward bit by bit.

She grew concerned about Yi Wansan and Cao Yanhua: “Will they be alright at home?”

“Shen Gun’s method might not hold for ten days or half a month, but it should work for three to five days. Besides, don’t underestimate those two. If something happens, they can at least run away.”

“I wonder where the other six ominous strips are.”

Luo Ren smiled: “If they’re well hidden, they might not appear for ten or twenty years. We’re not Li Tan, we can’t spend years pursuing this matter. Everyone has their own lives to lead. We don’t know when we’ll meet again.”

Mu Dai’s heart suddenly skipped a beat.

—We don’t know when we’ll meet again.

Why did those words sound so distant and detached, like a prelude to farewell?

Luo Ren seemed not to notice her discomfort: “That’s why I thought, let me take you camel riding, to give you a better impression of your trip to Xiaoshang River. The doctor just spoke with me. Xiaoshang River’s medical facilities are limited, so he recommended transferring Pin Ting to a larger hospital, first for surgery, then for recovery.”

Mu Dai’s voice was so soft she could barely hear herself: “Mm.”

“I don’t want to delay. I’m sorry, Mu Dai. I said I’d drive you back, but now I probably…”

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” Mu Dai quickly shook her head. “Treatment is important. I can return with Cao Yanhua and Yi Wansan.”

“That works. Anyway… It’s been a pleasure meeting you, Mu Dai.”

A pleasure? Mu Dai didn’t feel pleased at all. She looked up at the stars, knowing that if she looked down, she would cry.

The camel stopped, and the lantern was lit again. Where were they? She didn’t know—just somewhere in the dry, inhospitable desert.

“Mu Dai, come down and rest for a bit.”

Mu Dai made another sound of agreement and mechanically dismounted. When her feet touched the ground, they sank deep into the sand. Luo Ren patted the camels’ backs, and both beasts, exhaling white breath, obediently knelt on all fours, like comfortable backrests set up in the desert.

Mu Dai slowly leaned against one, her head rubbing against the rough fur, her cheeks hurting from the friction. Luo Ren sat down beside her and asked with a smile: “Why did you suddenly lose your spirit?”

She replied softly: “I guess I’m tired.”

She didn’t want to look at Luo Ren, didn’t want to see his pleasant demeanor as he cheerfully spoke of the future: Pin Ting would have surgery, would recover comfortably, would get better, would keep improving.

Her nose stung with emotion. “I need to go back to Yunnan. I need to pack my luggage. Let’s go back.”

After saying this, she stood up, supporting herself on the saddle. She had only taken two steps when her arm was suddenly gripped, and she lost her balance, falling back down.

Luo Ren held her arm, his tone strange: “Why are you suddenly unhappy?”

Why did he have to ask? Mu Dai was bewildered. After thinking, she said: “I’m just a bit tired from the camel riding…”

“It’s not fatigue, not cold, not strong wind. Why are you unhappy?”

He kept asking!

Mu Dai’s eyes reddened: “Well, as a friend, hearing we won’t see each other again, it’s only natural to feel a bit sad…”

“You don’t need to preface every statement with ‘as a friend’ or ‘from a friend’s perspective.’ I know we’re friends.”

Mu Dai felt utterly wronged: “Then what should I say? You’re the one lacking empathy, happily saying we won’t meet again. Anyone would be upset hearing that from a friend. And you ask me why!”

She had emphasized “friend” again.

Luo Ren took a deep breath: “Fine, let me ask a different question.”

“Do you want to see me again?”

The wind seemed to suddenly stop. The lantern light became tender, almost dreamlike. That feeling came back—the sensation of him stroking her hair.

Mu Dai bit her lip and, after a long while, asked: “Do you want to see me again?”

“Yes.”

Oh… Mu Dai lowered her head, and after another long pause, said: “Then… I suppose I do, too.”

“What if I didn’t want to?”

This time she answered promptly: “Then I wouldn’t want to either.”

Luo Ren laughed heartily. After a while, he took Mu Dai’s hand and placed a set of keys in her palm.

“I rented an entire house in Lijiang. I was wondering whether to give it up or continue staying there. If we all want to see each other again, then Lijiang would be a nice place for Pin Ting’s recovery.”

“Of course, if you don’t want to see me again, please help me cancel the lease. The house isn’t far from Hong Yi’s bar. As a friend, it’s not too much to ask for this favor.”

…

In the hospital room, Uncle Zheng was busy packing things. Luo Ren had instructed him to help transfer Pin Ting to another hospital as soon as possible. Everything that had been brought into the room just a day before now had to be gathered and taken back.

Midway through packing, a golden flash caught his eye.

What was that?

Uncle Zheng rubbed his eyes and slowly walked to Pin Ting’s bedside. There, in her hand, she seemed to be holding something—a tiny exposed section of an extremely fine… golden chain.