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墨書 Inktalez
I was momentarily taken aback, unsure of what level of seriousness this situation had reached. Was it that the AE had increased its attention to this matter and allocated more resources, or had the Chinese Government raised the confidentiality level? Seizing the opportunity while he was catching his breath, I hurriedly asked, "Who raised the level? What level was raised?"
"The Chinese Government," Jack replied immediately. "They have increased the confidentiality level of this matter. We are already sealed off here, with military surveillance, and vehicles are not allowed to enter. You know that Wutong Ridge is the only source of fresh water around here. If they cut off access to Wutong Ridge, other archaeology teams will be unable to approach the Lop Nur area. The military seems to know that someone is blocking access into the depths of the desert and is asking us for details while urging us to leave. I feel that if we don't go, they will take coercive measures; their attitude towards us has been getting worse and worse, and they are becoming increasingly impatient."
Hearing this made me uneasy as well; the situation was becoming more complex and elusive, seemingly falling under military control. If this matter ultimately fell into military hands, as someone on their blacklist, I would have no chance of being involved or even having any connection to it.
However, Jack seemed overly worried about their current predicament. The archaeology teams currently at Wutong Ridge were all civilian organizations from various countries, well-known in their field and backed by financial groups, not to mention supported by the Chinese Government. Given their identities and backgrounds, it was unlikely that the Chinese Government would act against them without sufficient reason. Moreover, these organizations operated in a way that wouldn't give the Chinese side any leverage; their actions were public and certainly authorized by relevant parties. For instance, my studio had authorization to conduct research in Lop Nur. Such details were not something anyone would get wrong.
"Don't worry too much; they won't easily expel you. That would require higher-level authorization to act. What you need to do is gather information as best as you can." I tried to calm his anxious emotions. "Have you heard anything from the two archaeology teams that entered the desert?"
"Nothing. I'm worried something has happened to them. The military personnel are verifying the number of people in those two archaeology teams that entered the desert and have already dispatched many to search for them. It's not that there are no opportunities to enter the desert; it's just that no one dares to go in now. From what I've gathered from the military investigators, it seems there are also issues at the Lop Nur Base Camp."
This was indeed troublesome. After comforting Jack a bit more, I ended the call and dialed Xiao Ting's number.
"Hello, who is this?" Xiao Ting sounded puzzled by my international call, far less experienced than Jack.
"It's Xiao Ting? I'm Zhang Jianqiang. Where are you right now?"
"Oh, it's you! How did you end up abroad? Where are you?"
She turned the question back on me. "I'm in Myanmar."
"Ah." I heard Xiao Ting gasp in surprise. In those days, Myanmar was synonymous with war and chaos. "How did you get there?"
But she quickly realized that our trip must be related to Xiao Guolin. "Did my dad go to Myanmar?" she asked with even more astonishment.
"No, Xiao Guolin hasn't been here. We're here to find someone who can provide clues." I didn't linger on that topic but quickly shifted focus back to her. "Do you have any news? Are you still with Xiao Guolin's students?"
"We've separated. He provided a list of names from a rescue team that searched for missing persons before; I'm trying to find these people to gather information. However, it's not looking good; it's hard to get useful information from them because they're bound by a Confidentiality Agreement and can't disclose certain things."
I had anticipated this outcome and didn't want to discourage her. "Don't rush; every little bit helps. The more information we gather, the better chance we have of unraveling useful insights from it. Just be safe on your own and avoid taking risks, okay?"
"Okay, thank you." Xiao Ting replied lightly.
"By the way, has your dad ever been abroad? Especially six months ago."
"Yes. He went out twice; I remember he went to Europe for some kind of conference."
"Where's his passport?"
"It's at home. I saw it while organizing his things. Do you need it? If so, I can grab it when I go back; I'm in Beijing right now and will head home soon."
"Okay, bring Xiao Guolin's passport with you. When I get back, I'll take a look; there might be some clues."
"What clues?"
"Well, let's talk about it when we meet. It's not convenient for me to discuss here."
I vaguely avoided answering that question. After hanging up the phone, I decided on a trip to Laos. With no clear leads in other directions, I might as well try my luck in Laos.
After leaving the convenience store, I hopped on the motorcycle and reached out to Fatty, "Keys, I'm driving."
Fatty looked displeased. "Are you sure? The roads here are rough; don't get us stuck."
I scoffed. "Why wouldn't I be able to? You learned on my family's motorcycle; I'm practically a coach-level expert now. Stop talking and hand over the keys."
I insisted on riding the motorcycle, and Fatty had no choice but to give me the keys. He climbed on behind me, holding on tightly. "My youth is just beginning; don't ruin it with your reckless driving."
I shot him an annoyed glance. "With that worn-out face of yours, how dare you talk about youth? Have you even experienced it?"
"Enough banter; just ride steadily," Fatty said worriedly.
As I released the clutch, the front wheel of the motorcycle suddenly lifted high off the ground. I leaned forward to keep the bike steady. Fatty screamed from behind, urging me to stop and let someone else drive.
I shouted back in frustration, "Can you blame me? You're just too heavy; sit forward a bit!"
Fatty squeezed my waist tightly and pushed forward, two hard objects pressing against my back. It hurt so much that I let out a yelp. "What do you have in your pocket? It's digging into me."
"A magazine," Fatty mumbled.
"Damn, why are you carrying that thing? Can't you let me ride in peace?" I shouted.
It seemed he was too embarrassed to take out the two magazines after I scolded him. Now they felt like two knives digging into my lower back. The motorcycle belched black smoke as it wobbled down the slippery muddy road, leaving the Village.
As we left the Village, sweat started to bead on my forehead. This terrible road really tested my driving skills and arm strength; the wheels were slipping badly. Thankfully, Fatty's weight kept the bike steady; otherwise, I wouldn't have been able to control it at all. Even so, the motorcycle kept drifting and performing difficult maneuvers.
I regretted this decision deeply; I hadn't expected it to be so difficult. But since I had chosen to come here, I couldn't back down now. I gritted my teeth and pressed on. Soon, my arms began to ache and weaken, and my hands were vibrating so much that I could barely grip the handlebars. As we passed a narrow path by a pond, the rear wheel of the motorcycle hit a patch of mud, causing the bike to slide and sending both of us tumbling into the pond.
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