Three days later, as the morning sun shone on the city gate, everyone gathered in high spirits. Ma Shuiyin stood at the front and announced loudly, "We set off today. I wish you all a safe journey."
The group left the city in an orderly fashion and embarked on their journey. Vast grasslands stretched on both sides of the road, the green grass rippling like waves in the gentle breeze. The old Taoist priest walked in the middle of the group, his eyes alert. Around noon, a dark cloud suddenly appeared in the sky, followed by a fierce wind that whipped up sand and gravel. Everyone hurriedly covered their faces with cloths, and the horses neighed anxiously.
"Oh no, we've encountered a sandstorm!" shouted Bakam, the Uyghur guide. Ma Shuiyin quickly directed everyone to find shelter, but there were only a few low sand dunes nearby. The sandstorm drew closer, like a ferocious beast. Just as everyone was in a panic, the old Taoist priest rapidly formed hand seals and chanted incantations. A curtain of light rose in front of the group, temporarily blocking the sandstorm's onslaught. Everyone took the opportunity to hide behind the dunes, waiting for the sandstorm to pass. An hour later, everything returned to calm. This was now the wild edge of the Taklamakan Desert, like a giant sand curtain unfurled by nature. Sandstorms seemed to be frequent visitors here, sweeping in without warning. The yellowish sand walls surged like a thousand horses galloping, blotting out the sky and making the heavens and earth tremble.
Bakam, a Uyghur man, spoke in somewhat broken Mandarin, gesturing as he explained, "Starting from here, after reaching Korla, we'll follow the Tarim River south. Once we get to Ruoqiang, we won't be far from our destination!" His dark face was etched with a resolute and bright gaze, like two brilliant stars set in the desert night sky. The wind and sand had etched the marks of time on his face, but they couldn't diminish his unwavering determination for the journey ahead. Every word he uttered carried the simplicity and strength of the desert winds, as if lighting a lamp of hope for this long journey.
The blazing sun relentlessly baked the desert, the sand beneath my feet so hot it felt like it would melt my shoes. I trudged on, each step kicking up a small cloud of sand. In the distance, the dunes stretched out in undulating waves, like golden beasts lying still. Suddenly, a gust of wind howled past, the sand stinging our faces like needles. We quickly covered our mouths and noses with our scarves, the wind howling in our ears like a warning from the desert.
As the wind gradually subsided, the old Taoist priest saw a small oasis, a miracle of life. Clear water shimmered in the sunlight, the surrounding vegetation was dazzlingly green, and several small sand lizards scurried across the sand, leaving a trail of tiny tracks. At that moment, the hardships of the desert journey transformed into admiration for this magical beauty. On the ancient caravan route, the caravan sped along at a rate of four to five hundred miles per day, the endless yellow sand churning beneath their wheels. This was a battle against time and the harsh environment; barring unforeseen circumstances, they would need ten days to reach their destination. But on only the third day, danger had already crept in.
The desert was like a giant steamer, the air so hot it felt like it could ignite everything. After driving for a while in this scorching sea of sand, the car's engine began to protest; the high temperature was too much for it, forcing it to stop and rest to cool down, like a weary traveler desperately needing a breather. Worse still, Company Commander Li suddenly fell ill. He was vomiting and had diarrhea, his face was as pale as paper, and large beads of sweat rolled incessantly from his forehead; he looked like a soldier drained of all his strength. Seeing this, the old Taoist priest quickly took out two antidote pills from his bag and carefully fed them to Company Commander Li. Miraculously, after a short while, Company Commander Li felt much better. He sat up, gulped down a bowl of water, his eyes filled with gratitude, and slowly said, "Master, thanks to your care this time, otherwise I really don't know if I could have made it to Loulan. This damned place is truly deadly; if it weren't for you, I'm afraid I would have lost my life in this desert." The old Taoist smiled slightly, patted Li Lianchang's shoulder, and looked firmly into the distance, as if the ancient city of Loulan was already within reach beyond the endless yellow sand.
These past few days, I had a long talk with Company Commander Li and learned that his name is Li Liangcai. He is from Longquan Mountain, near Chengdu. He studied in a private school and has some knowledge. He should have been a scholar living a peaceful life, but the political situation in Sichuan was like a raging sea, turbulent and unstable, which forced him to join the army.
This journey was like walking a tightrope between life and death. After ten long days of travel, which had been incredibly dangerous, they were now close to Ruoqiang County. Just one more day and dawn would be at hand. But this journey felt like it was being watched by death itself. In the past few days, two cars had become like wounded beasts, slumped over by the roadside, unable to move forward. Even more heartbreaking was that more than a dozen people had fallen ill and died. Some suffered heatstroke from the scorching sun, while others contracted malaria, which ultimately took its toll. But that was fate. Didn't they expect this outcome when they came? After all, a thousand silver dollars per person—it wasn't so easy to get. That was hard-earned money, earned with their lives!
Several days later, the group of a hundred people finally arrived at Ruoqiang City. What came into view was a dilapidated earthen wall, barely a meter high, teetering on the verge of collapse under the erosion of time. The old Taoist priest sighed inwardly: the people here suffer greatly; their poverty is heartbreaking. The city's inhabitants lacked clothing and food; in the streets and alleys, many children ran and played naked, their innocent eyes contrasting sharply with their desperate existence—a stark and cruel reality.
The crowd escorted Company Commander Li and Ma Shuiyin into the main hall of the local wealthy landowner, Master Maimaiti. The hall was lavishly furnished, with distinctive ethnic tapestries and exquisite porcelain showcasing the owner's wealth. Master Maimaiti respectfully accepted the warrant, examined it carefully, and then discreetly put it away. He turned and instructed his servants to prepare tea and refreshments, warmly inviting everyone to take their seats.
Ma Shuiyin handed over a written order. After reading it, Maimaiti said, "Commander Jin's order is like a bright star, illuminating our path forward. Maimaiti will do his utmost to provide the army with everything it needs." Maimaiti's face was full of smiles, and his eyes gleamed with flattery.
Ma Shuiyin nodded solemnly and said, "I've come here for two reasons: first, to convey Commander Jin's instructions to help the exploration team complete its mission; and second, to expedite the preparation of supplies. The situation at the front is tense, and there can be no delays." Company Commander Li added from the side, "We need a large amount of grain, horses, camels, and winter supplies. Mr. Maimaiti, you bear a heavy responsibility this time." Maimaiti quickly stood up, patted his chest, and assured him, "Commander Ma, Company Commander, don't worry, I'll arrange it right away and will certainly not fail in my mission." After saying that, he hurriedly left the main hall to arrange the relevant matters. In the several acres of courtyard, the leaves of the poplar trees rustled in the autumn wind, as if they too were playing a battle song for this important mission.
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