Ba Yunye sat cramped in the narrow aircraft cabin, uncomfortable no matter which way she turned. After years of self-driving, she had come to particularly dislike flying. It was fast, sure — but everyone was packed in like sardines in a tin can, with a constant buzzing in the ears. The mountains and rivers below shrank to nothing, with only tedious layers of cloud sweeping past beneath the plane. Every time the aircraft lurched in turbulence, Ba Yunye’s heart lurched with it. The feeling of having her fate in the captain’s hands was absolutely wretched.

But to get to Baotou as fast as possible, there was no other way.

Ba Yunye thought back to the previous night — how she had snapped back to her senses and bellowed at Diao Zhuo: “What’s a grown man wasting words for — of course you have to show up when the time comes!”

Afterward, Long Ge had told her that he’d been to the Badain Jaran before, and that he had also signed up to join the search and rescue for the three university students. Ba Yunye figured that if “Master Ba” also participated in the rescue and successfully brought all three people back safely, it might look somewhat better on the outside. He Ma heard this and said he wanted to go too.

“Tagalong.”

He Ma shot her a look. “I’m not at ease with you, a woman, heading out there alone.”

“Do you actually see me as a woman?”

“Whether I do or don’t, you still are one.”

“How very gracious of you,” Ba Yunye said, pulling a face.

And so, Long Ge immediately arranged for two other off-road drivers from the club to swap in for Ba Yunye and He Ma, letting the two of them get to where they were needed right away.

“Ba Yunye and Diao Zhuo will meet up in the Badain Jaran area of Inner Mongolia.”

He Zhengren read the message, and his brow tightened sharply. He called the number, but the other person seemed to be in an inconvenient situation and kept not answering. He could only reply in writing: “Where are they going and why?”

“To find someone.”

“Find who.”

“Three university students.”

“This is clearly just a pretext.” He Zhengren was feeling particularly vexed. He had often felt vexed when Rao Qinghui was confined to a sickbed, and later, when that person had passed away, he felt as though a great stone had fallen to the ground at last. But ever since Diao Zhuo had crossed paths with Ba Yunye, he hadn’t had a single good night’s sleep.

“The two of them will have to come clean eventually — there’s no preventing it. And once they do, they might fall out — especially given Ba Yunye’s temperament.”

“I don’t know Ba Yunye’s temperament well, but I understand Diao Zhuo’s. Deep down, he doesn’t believe a word I say. I suspect Rao Qinghui told him something, but he keeps his mouth very shut.”

The other party did not reply further.

“A’Hao!”

Li Haozhang came in immediately.

“Ba Yunye and Diao Zhuo have gone to the Badain Jaran…” He Zhengren said. “I have a bad feeling about this…”

Li Haozhang answered cautiously: “You mean… Song Fan?”

He Zhengren gave a slight nod, his expression darkening further.

“Long Ge hasn’t driven in ages — I wonder if he can still handle it this time,” He Ma said, covering his mouth with a laugh.

“A lean camel is still bigger than a horse. Long Ge’s the one who trained me — I know what he’s capable of.” When it came to Long Ge, Ba Yunye was both outwardly and inwardly convinced.

When He Ma first joined the team, seeing how Ba Yunye treated Long Ge without any formality, he had assumed she was Long Ge’s woman. He later found out that she had met Long Ge when she was sixteen, pestered him into teaching her to drive, and officially joined the team only after she had finished her military service. To her, Long Ge was a big brother, a benefactor, and an elder — but not a lover. Rumor had it the two shared a bond forged in life-and-death circumstances, but neither Master Ba nor Long Ge would speak a word about what that actually involved. No matter how fierce Ba Yunye could be, she was always perfectly well-behaved in Long Ge’s presence.

Train K9711 departed at nine o’clock in the evening. It was nearly a fourteen-hour journey — they wouldn’t arrive in Ejin Banner until close to noon the following day.

Ba Yunye and He Ma made their way through one carriage after another, looking for Long Ge and Diao Zhuo. The carriages were thick with the smell of instant noodles and iron. Here and there, a baby let out a cry. Most passengers sat with expressionless faces, their bodies swaying faintly with the motion of the carriage, staring blankly out at the pitch-black windows, waiting in numb silence.

Diao Zhuo was seated facing the direction she was coming from, and she spotted him from a distance. White T-shirt, a black jacket over it — with his stubble clean-shaved, he looked sharper and somehow younger, a good deal more so than usual. When she had first met him, she’d guessed he was approaching forty; now he looked no more than thirty, which matched the birth date on his ID.

Everyone had bought hard-seat tickets on short notice. He and Long Ge were in the same row — one powerfully built, one heavyset — between them taking up quite a bit more than their fair share of what had originally been a reasonably spacious seat.

Long Ge sat with his eyes closed, as though asleep. In his right hand he slowly worked a string of jade-patterned bodhi seed prayer beads, polished to a smooth lustre from long use. The 108 beads were strung with exquisitely chosen pieces — antique silver cross-shaped toggles, Alashan agate stones, Tibetan yak bone carvings, and other small ornaments — with a carved dragon-subduing sandalwood pendant hanging from the bottom, casting a faint, cool gleam. This was always with him, wherever he went.

Hearing their voices, he worked his fingers over the carved dragon-subduing sandalwood pendant and slowly opened his eyes, saying with unhurried composure: “You’re here.”

He Ma greeted Diao Zhuo warmly and extended his hand. “Long time no see!”

Diao Zhuo rose and reached out — but before he could clasp He Ma’s hand, Ba Yunye threw herself at him in a great bear hug. “I’ve missed you to death, Team Leader Diao!”

The force of her threw Diao Zhuo’s body back — though he steadied himself quickly.

Missed me to death, sure. You didn’t miss me one bit… I missed you.

He Ma’s hand was left hanging in the air. He Ma and Long Ge exchanged a glance, both rather embarrassed. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed that Diao Zhuo not only hadn’t stepped away, but had actually cooperated quite willingly — wrapping one arm around her waist. Both of them were a little puzzled, but Ba Yunye was as quick to pull back as she had been to pounce, and she dropped into the seat across from him in the next instant, so no one thought much more of it.

Ba Yunye was finally able to give a full account of why she had failed to notice that the three students had planned to cross the desert. After venting everything out, she spat several times and headed off to the washroom to rinse her mouth — the wind and sand had really been something fierce; after talking for a while, her mouth was full of grit, and she’d nearly cracked a back molar.

Diao Zhuo sat up straight, lifting his eyes to glance at her.

Her figure was clearly slender and graceful, yet in her everyday appearance she invariably went for a softshell jacket and jeans — all but erasing any trace of curves.

When she wasn’t in sight, his thoughts had been full of her. Now that she was right there before his eyes, he had actually grown calm, feeling none of the emotional turbulence he might have expected.

This was good.

“…Three kids so young — they’d better not end up finished off by the desert.” Long Ge had spent half a lifetime wandering every corner of the land, and had ventured into deserts before. The terror of the uninhabited desert zones was not something that could be summed up in a few words.

Diao Zhuo pulled up Google Maps. “The crossing route from Gurinai to Bilitu Peak is relatively well-established — many people have successfully completed it on foot. As long as they follow the route heading southeast by north, replenish their water supply at the well at Ha’er Sha Lajialejī, then continue south, they’ll eventually reach large swathes of oasis and finally arrive at Bilitu Peak.”

“They’re not the trekking type,” Ba Yunye said bluntly.

He Ma nodded in agreement. “That Zhang fellow could manage, but the other two — it’s hard to say. From the look of their physiques and how they carried themselves, they seemed like ordinary tourists.”

“What genuinely worries me is precisely this point — I’m afraid they’ll drag each other down. Especially with a female student in the group. I hope she gives up partway and sends out a signal,” Long Ge said.

Ba Yunye crossed her arms. “That’s a bit condescending toward women, isn’t it.”

“If that girl were you, we wouldn’t bother with the rescue — you’d certainly lead the other two out yourself,” Long Ge said with a touch of flattery.

She was rather pleased by this, and wanted to smile, but deliberately suppressed it.

As the night deepened, the lighting in the carriage was dimmed a little. Ba Yunye put on her U-shaped travel pillow and pressed her palms together toward Long Ge in a plea: “I want to sit next to Diao Zhuo. Long Ge, would you be so kind as to make a small sacrifice — for a good cause.”

Long Ge had no recourse against her, and had no choice but to get up. He Ma was indignant. “What’s so terrible about sitting next to me?!”

“Shh —” Ba Yunye held up one finger to her lips.

He Ma pointed a middle finger at her; she raised her brows and returned two middle fingers, one for each hand. Then she turned her head, and the image of A’Bu from the food lovers’ group suddenly flashed through her mind. She adopted an exaggeratedly cute expression, puckered her lips, and mimicked a child’s voice: “Diao Zhuo ge-ge, can little me lean on your shoulder for a bit later, meow meow~?”

Diao Zhuo looked askance at her, his expression frozen.

“Meow meow meow~?”

He wasn’t having any of it. “Can’t understand you — speak normally.”

Ba Yunye dropped all pretense, showing her true ferocity. “If I fall asleep leaning on your shoulder, you dare push me off and I’ll beat you!”

Diao Zhuo turned to look out the window. “You dare lean on me, and I’ll beat you first.”

“You wouldn’t dare!”

“I haven’t hit you before?”

Ba Yunye was stumped. The memory brought a phantom ache to a certain part of her anatomy. She refused to concede the point. “No you haven’t!”

“Try leaning on me later and see.”

Listening to the two of them bicker, Long Ge let out a laugh through his nose, unwrapped his instant noodles, lined up his seasoning packets in order, set a jar of chili sauce from his luggage on the table, then got up to go steep the noodles.

The night grew even deeper. The passengers in the carriage, whoever could find a comfortable enough position, had all drifted off for a nap. He Ma lay face-down on the table, long since fast asleep. Long Ge, though seated, had his eyes tightly shut and had stopped working the prayer beads — still as a monk in deep meditation.

Ba Yunye wore her U-shaped pillow, but her sleep was fitful. The train moved with a rhythmic chug-chug-chug, and occasionally when it braked, the grinding of metal on metal was as sharp as chalk scraping a blackboard.

“Lie down,” she heard Diao Zhuo say, vaguely through her half-sleep.

Then he seemed to get up. The seats on his side cleared. She opened her eyes and saw Diao Zhuo heading toward the junction between carriages, cigarette box and lighter in hand. She stretched herself out across the seats, her body fully extended — genuinely much more comfortable.

But now she couldn’t sleep.

She sat up, gathered her disheveled hair, and tied it back in a ponytail, then walked over toward where Diao Zhuo was — and sure enough, there he was, smoking. Deep into the night, smoke curling in the dim light, his profile looked even more sharply defined, every shadow falling across him in exactly the right place.

She reached out a hand, asking for a cigarette.

He glanced at her, kept the cigarette between his own lips, and drew one out from the pack for her.

She didn’t take it. Instead, she tilted her chin toward the one already in his mouth. When he didn’t move, she reached up and took it herself — squinting slightly, cigarette held between index and middle finger — looking every bit like one of those dance hall girls in a Republic-era nightclub who wore a qipao. She brought it to her lips and took a long drag.

“Cough cough cough!!!”

“If you can’t smoke, what are you proving,” Diao Zhuo said, raising an eyebrow.

“So at least I didn’t waste your cigarette,” Ba Yunye said, eyes reddened, coughing up tears — though she was well and truly awake now.

Diao Zhuo took back the half-smoked cigarette. “Are you going to sleep or not?”

Ba Yunye was about to answer when he added: “If not, wait here.”

Ba Yunye crossed her arms and leaned against the electrical cabinet. Three steps away across from her was the toilet, with what sounded like someone inside. She grinned. “Big grown man, needs someone to wait for him while he takes a leak.”

He gave a quiet sound — some kind of response, though its meaning was unclear.

Half a minute later, the person inside the toilet came out. She said: “Your turn.”

Diao Zhuo made no move. He had just finished his cigarette.

Ba Yunye looked at him in puzzlement, and watched him walk over to the washbasin to rinse his face and rinse his mouth. When he straightened up, his face was damp, the short strands of hair at his forehead wet with water and drooping down.

Ba Yunye felt there was nothing more of interest to hold her there — she’d be better off going back to sleep. She turned to leave, but he caught her and pulled her back. Before she could ask what on earth he wanted, his lips came down on hers.

Oh — so he wanted to kiss her. He’d had her wait while he finished the cigarette first.

Ba Yunye wrapped her arms around his neck; he tightened his arms around her waist.

“What the hell — did you come here to do a rescue, or to find me…” she said, catching her breath in a pause.

“Who was it that called me to come.”

“Wasn’t it justice?” The words had barely left her mouth when Diao Zhuo caught her earlobe between his lips, sending a tingling rush across her scalp and turning her legs to water.

“Justice my foot — it’s just cleaning up Master Ba’s mess,” Diao Zhuo murmured against her ear, and brought his hand around in a sharp smack across her backside with a loud crack.

Ba Yunye yelped softly in pain, and then he kissed her again.

A train attendant passed through. Diao Zhuo turned to one side, and she pressed herself behind him, clutching tightly to him.

Dawn broke faintly. Through the train window, the boundless Gobi came into view. Telephone poles stood in lonely silhouette against the landscape. When the autumn wind picked up, you could see a pale grey veil of sand sweeping across the distance in the far horizon, ghost-like, then quickly vanishing. Fine grains of sand seeped in through some invisible crack. If you weren’t paying attention, a thin layer of pale yellow sand would settle on the table — and incredibly, it would even gather in clumps on the floor, which crunched faintly underfoot. Beyond checking tickets, the most pressing duty of the train attendants was to go around with brooms and cloths, clearing away the sand from the floors and tables.

He Ma woke up, shoulders aching and hands numb, stretching and yawning all at once. He looked up to find Diao Zhuo sitting bolt upright, while Ba Yunye had her whole body leaned against him, sleeping soundly — and couldn’t help but find it amusing. Ba Yunye, he thought, was a bit too good at taking advantage of situations.

Long Ge had been awake for some time already, and was returning now from washing up. He Ma gave him a look full of meaningful eyebrow raises, and Long Ge simply smiled without a word. He was an old hand at reading people, and he had noticed that the two of them had slipped away from their seats one after another the previous night, and been gone for quite a long while — enough to give him a sense of how things stood.

Something’s brewing there.