The sky quieted down.
The construction team began restoring the site. Yu Yi patted the dust off his clothes and said helplessly, “What if those birds come back? Isn’t there a forestry bureau that can handle this?”
“If this were the grasslands, maybe. But we’re in an uninhabited zone—the nearest forestry bureau is 300 kilometers away.” The construction team leader sighed. “This is the first time I’ve seen so many vultures. Honestly, we’re the ones who entered their territory.”
The uninhabited zone was not suitable for human habitation, making it a natural gathering place for wildlife.
Yu Yi remarked, “I thought vultures only ate carrion.”
“Well, not just that. Vultures often attack herders’ sheep. A lot of the time, the local government has to compensate the herders, but there’s really nothing they can do about it.”
“Having backing really is great!” Yu Yi clicked his tongue. “Why wasn’t I born as a giant panda instead?”
Someone nearby chimed in, “Vultures are nothing. You guys haven’t seen wolves. Back when we were working in Province X, that place was truly wild. Wolves howled all night and even had the guts to snatch things from our camp.”
“City folks probably don’t see that often. One time, I got up in the middle of the night and saw a pair of green eyes staring at me from the grass. Scared me half to death!”
While the others exchanged stories, Chu Qianli and Tan Muxing focused on examining the Sanqing Bell, shaking it repeatedly.
“The sound really changed.” Chu Qianli shook it wildly, puzzled. “It definitely wasn’t like this when we heard it at the teahouse, right?”
Tan Muxing admitted, “That day, it sounded crisp and clear. It’s definitely different now.”
The Sanqing Bell had gone from sounding like a delicate fairy maiden to a rough, deep-voiced uncle, leaving Chu Qianli at a loss as to how she would explain this to Mei Rujing. Could she really say that she had single-handedly ruined it with her sheer presence?
Chu Qianli said uneasily, “Does this mean I need to find a way to compensate Sister Rujing?”
Tan Muxing considered it. “But it still sounds fine to me. It doesn’t seem broken. Maybe it depends on how you shake it?”
It didn’t make sense for a bell to get louder the more it was damaged. That would be too absurd.
Chu Qianli couldn’t figure it out. Feeling uneasy, she cradled the Sanqing Bell and decisively said, “When in doubt, use quantum mechanics—the old method it is!”
She decided to perform a divination on the spot to see if the bell was damaged.
Tan Muxing placed his safety helmet aside. He still had a work jacket draped over his arm. Watching her murmur incantations, he quietly waited for the result.
“It doesn’t seem broken.” Chu Qianli completed the divination, shook the bell twice, and pondered aloud, “Then what’s going on?”
Tan Muxing watched her seriously examine the bell and commented, “It’s like a frequency-adjusting speaker. It has two different modes.”
“But this is an antique, not an electronic device. What exactly is adjusting the frequency…” Chu Qianli suddenly caught sight of the work jacket Tan Muxing was holding. She stared at it in thought for a few seconds before abruptly yanking the jacket over her head.
She suddenly covered her head with the jacket and crouched down sneakily, looking like a little kid playing ghosts with a bedsheet in kindergarten. The work jacket completely blocked the outside view, making it impossible to see what she was doing underneath.
Tan Muxing was puzzled. “What are you doing?”
Chu Qianli suddenly peeked out from under the jacket, clutching the Sanqing Bell in her arms. She held up the jacket with one hand and excitedly beckoned Tan Muxing with the other, exclaiming, “Xingxing, come here!”
“What for?” Tan Muxing was confused but walked over as she instructed, crouching down beside her without knowing what she was up to.
Suddenly, everything went dark. The sky was blocked out.
The work jacket was quite large—it could fully cover Chu Qianli when she was sitting, and now it easily enveloped both of them, creating a small, enclosed space.
Tan Muxing hadn’t noticed how close they were when he first crouched down, but now he realized that her face was just inches from his. In the confined space, he could even feel the warmth of her breath.
His ears turned red instantly. Flustered, he tried to pull off the jacket and stammered, “W-what are we doing…?”
Although they had been desk mates in school, their interactions were always open and straightforward. They had never been this close before!
Chu Qianli would joke around with him occasionally, but it was always playful and casual, never this sneaky and intimate.
Tan Muxing tried to escape from under the jacket, but Chu Qianli grabbed the hem of his shirt tightly, pulling the jacket back into place over their heads. She hurriedly said, “Don’t go yet! I haven’t shown you!”
“Can’t we do this outside? Do we have to be huddled under here?” Tan Muxing, unable to leave, crouched back down helplessly. He felt like he was burning up, completely lost on where to look. They were just too close.
While Tan Muxing sat there awkwardly, Chu Qianli’s eyes gleamed with excitement—she was eager to share her discovery.
With the work jacket shielding them from the outside world, isolating them from the wind, Chu Qianli raised the Sanqing Bell and shook it again. She whispered mysteriously, “Listen.”
A crisp, melodious ringing filled the small space—no longer the deep, heavy sound from before.
Tan Muxing momentarily forgot his embarrassment. He blinked in surprise. “It’s back to normal.”
Chu Qianli shook the bell again—ding-ling, ding-ling—clear and pleasant.
The next moment, she suddenly threw off the jacket, jumped up, and shook the bell out in the open desert. Instantly, the Sanqing Bell transformed once more, its sound now grand and resonant, echoing far across the barren land.
“This is…” Tan Muxing murmured in disbelief. “It changes based on the environment?”
“I don’t know. It seems like indoors or when surrounded by objects, it rings ding-ling, ding-ling, but in especially desolate places, it changes.”
Back in the city, surrounded by buildings, the bell had always produced a crisp chime. The current landscape, however, was an open, barren expanse of sand and rugged black-brown rocks, vastly different from the urban environment.
Realizing the Sanqing Bell’s unique property, Chu Qianli became engrossed in her newfound discovery. She kept switching between the different sounds—hiding under the work jacket, then suddenly emerging again—excitedly alternating between the bell’s normal and echoing modes!
She wasn’t content to just play by herself—she dragged Tan Muxing into it too. The poor “Big White Bear” had no choice but to crouch and play along.
The result of all this excitement was inevitable dizziness. Chu Qianli kept standing up and crouching down, gleefully calling out to Tan Muxing each time. Finally, she stood up too fast, making herself lightheaded. Losing balance, she nearly toppled over—almost pulling Tan Muxing down with her.
Tan Muxing barely managed to steady himself with one hand on the ground while catching the falling troublemaker with the other. He sighed in amusement. “Let’s try again when we get back.”
Chu Qianli then realized she was leaning against her companion. Seeing his palm touching the sandy ground, she immediately behaved herself and obediently said, “Okay.”
Tan Muxing was about to remove the work jacket covering them when the jacket was suddenly lifted from the outside. Bright light instantly flooded into the dim space.
“What are you two squatting here for…?” Yu Yi suddenly lifted the jacket. When he saw the two leaning against each other, he fell silent for a few seconds before calmly putting the jacket back over them and saying in a low voice, “Sorry to interrupt.”
“…No, no, no, Yu-ge, you’ve misunderstood! It’s not what you think!”
“It’s okay, I understand. Should I leave, then?”
With the Sanqing Bell in hand, Chu Qianli and Tan Muxing continued experimenting in other parts of the Gobi Desert, confirming that the bell’s sound changed depending on the surrounding environment. Near the work station, it rang with crisp ding-ling sounds, but in more remote areas far from any buildings, the sound was entirely different.
“In crowded places, it’s like a calming bell, but in wild mode, it serves a different purpose?” Chu Qianli marveled as she toyed with the bell. “The wisdom and craftsmanship of the ancients are truly incredible. Even a luopan (geomantic compass) can be used to observe both the heavens and the earth.”
Though they had yet to understand the principle behind the bell’s ability to repel birds, they recorded its sound in the Gobi and played it continuously at the construction site, even throughout the night.
Since the workstations were spread apart, the workers’ sleep was undisturbed.
Initially, everyone worried the recorded sound wouldn’t work, but after several consecutive days with no damage to the sand barrier, construction work was able to proceed smoothly.
The construction team leader was so impressed with the expert advisory group that he nearly gave them a thumbs-up, exclaiming, “This feels just like a pigeon whistle! Truly advanced technology!”
Some people trained pigeons using whistle sounds, while Chu Qianli used a bell to drive away vultures.
“Oh, no, no, no, it’s not that advanced,” Chu Qianli waved modestly. “I just brought the latest trending tunes to the vast Gobi—a true genre-breaking masterpiece!”
The Sanqing Bell’s audience had expanded from humans to vultures, making it the undisputed king of crossover music.
With the construction site free from wildlife disturbances, progress was finally back on track, allowing for terrain surveys to begin.
The project was highly complex, involving both railway construction and sand control. Workers installed tall sand barriers and used biological methods to stabilize the sand, planting drought-resistant vegetation along the railway.
The expert advisory group’s job was to find the optimal solution within extremely challenging terrain. In geomantic studies, this was just as difficult—most past projects were planned in scenic locations with good natural conditions, but now they had to carve a path through the wilderness.
Since the construction site had poor signal reception, Chu Qianli could only access the internet when she returned to the workstation. Life in the Gobi was monotonous—until her daily divination revealed something unusual.
“Just great—trouble always comes in waves…” Chu Qianli felt her scalp tingle after reading the result. She immediately put on her safety helmet with a serious expression. After hesitating for a long time in her room, she finally steeled herself and walked out in her work uniform.
According to her reading, she shouldn’t go out today—or for the next several days.
Chu Qianli had encountered similar situations before. When she sensed potential danger, she could just stay home and skip school. But now, in a team-based work environment, she couldn’t just refuse to go to work!
And today, she was supposed to survey a new area. If she avoided going out now, she’d hold up everyone’s progress. By the time her unlucky streak passed, they might already be heading back.
On the way to the site, Chu Qianli huddled nervously in her seat. Normally, she’d feel dizzy from the bumpy ride, but today, she looked utterly lifeless before they had even set off.
Yu Yi noticed her odd behavior and said in surprise, “Hey, why is someone so quiet today?”
Under normal circumstances, Chu Qianli would have immediately clapped back at him. But today, she remained completely silent, curled up in her corner.
“What’s wrong? Are you sick?” Yu Yi was baffled when she didn’t react as usual. He turned around to get a better look, confused by the silent little fortune-teller.
Chu Qianli shook her head.
Tan Muxing had a strong sense of déjà vu. He noticed her inexplicable tension and tentatively asked, “…Is your luck bad today?”
At his words, Chu Qianli finally raised her head, nodding helplessly—her eyes almost brimming with tears.
Tan Muxing recalled how distressed she had been during the physical fitness test and hurriedly reassured her, “It’ll be fine! Last time, didn’t we get through it just fine? It’ll be okay!”
By now, Tan Muxing had figured out that Chu Qianli took these things very seriously. When she predicted misfortune, she went on full alert, often spending the entire day distracted.
Yu Yi casually said, “It’s just bad luck, right? If it’s that bad, I can give you a peace talisman.”
“Please do. Thank you.”
“…Huh?” Yu Yi turned back, dumbfounded. “What did you say?”
Chu Qianli repeated earnestly, “Please give me one. Thank you.”
“Wow, this must be serious…” Yu Yi was stunned as he dug into his pocket and handed her a talisman. “You never cared about my charms before…”
Chu Qianli had always dismissed Yu Yi’s talisman-drawing skills as subpar, so seeing her actually accept one left him utterly shocked.
Tan Muxing, deep in thought, stayed close to her as soon as they got out of the car, practically sticking to her side.
No matter how dangerous the road ahead was, the job still had to be done. The team soon arrived at the new site, where deep ravines crisscrossed the landscape.
The construction team leader led the way, cautioning them, “Don’t go near the edges of the Gobi cliffs. Tourists love standing on those spots for photos, and we’ve had several people fall!”
“And those were the so-called ‘safe’ areas. Since almost no one comes here, many parts are even more dangerous.”
The strong winds and shifting sands in the Gobi created hidden traps everywhere. Even a steady path could suddenly give way underfoot.
Chu Qianli wanted to finish quickly. She took out her luopan and prepared to begin.
Tan Muxing stood beside her, organizing the data, while Yu Yi had already put on his gear, ready to receive signals from his teammates. He called out, “All set!”
Yu Yi wasn’t the strongest, but he was nimble. It was said that he had been sickly as a child and had trained under a master, who taught him physical exercises to strengthen his body. Over time, he recovered his health. He had decent field experience, though still not as good as Pan Yicheng or Chu Qianli.
Since ancient times, there has been a saying about feng shui masters:
Top-tier masters observe the stars,
Mid-tier masters study the water sources,
Low-tier masters wander the mountains aimlessly.
The three of them had now divided their tasks: Chu Qianli worked with the luopan (geomantic compass), Tan Muxing drafted the maps, and Yu Yi conducted the field measurements.
The more urgent a task, the more obstacles arise. Chu Qianli observed the heavens, then lowered her gaze to the luopan, frowning as she muttered, “It doesn’t seem like a good time to start the reading…”
“Oh, then let’s wait a bit.”
This area frequently stirred up dust storms, slowing their progress significantly. Every so often, they had to pause for a break.
In the uninhabited wilderness, there were no weather forecasts—frequent sandstorms were nothing unusual. But today felt different.
“The wind is coming again.” Chu Qianli was just about to put down the luopan when she suddenly sensed something off. “Wait, this is—”
The construction team leader had seen all kinds of Gobi weather. Sensing the change in the air, he gripped his iron shovel tightly and urgently shouted, “This sandstorm is big! Fall back toward the vehicles!”
A massive, yellow-brown tornado surged forward, rolling like a tidal wave. Unlike the smaller dust devils they had seen before, this storm was far more menacing.
Everyone dropped what they were doing and sprinted toward the vehicles for cover. The Gobi Desert had almost no natural shelters, leaving them nowhere to hide from the wind.
But nature’s tempest was faster than humans. In the blink of an eye, it caught up with the retreating group. Ferocious winds whipped through the air, carrying harsh, coarse grains of sand that roared past their ears!
Chu Qianli had only heard the winds at night before, but now, for the first time, she was experiencing the sheer force of nature firsthand. A moment ago, she could still see her colleagues in the distance—now, the blinding sandstorm had swallowed everything.
Within half a meter, her vision was completely blocked.
At first, Chu Qianli followed the group, trying to retreat, but gradually, she lost her sense of direction and panicked.
She tried to perform a divination with her fingers, but the gale nearly knocked her off her feet. An overwhelming sense of helplessness surged within her—one that felt eerily familiar.
The wind was too fast.
The storm was too strong.
There wasn’t even time to calculate a reading.
Humans tend to block out painful memories, but at this moment, something long buried resurfaced—a time when she had been just as powerless.
She had run and run, desperately trying to escape—but no matter what, she couldn’t outrun fate.
Even knowing didn’t change anything.
“Xingxing…” Chu Qianli spun in a circle, trying to find her bearings. She forced herself to run forward, battling against the wind and calling out in distress, “Xingxing!”
The wind roared—so loud that she couldn’t hear anything.
She had no idea where she was.
All she could do was rely on memory to keep moving. She didn’t dare drop to the ground, fearing that she might be buried alive.
Even though she knew no one could hear her, she still called out instinctively as she ran—
“Xingxing…”
Amidst the vast, endless sandstorm, she was completely alone.
But in the next second—
Someone found her.
Through the raging winds, he reached her—unerringly, without hesitation.
A voice, steady and familiar, cut through the storm:
“I’m here.”
I am just a novice translator and Chinese is not my native language. I try my best to translate the chapters as accurate as possible.
If there are any mistakes then kindly comment and remind me. Your support means a lot.
Awwwwww💞
Thanks for the chapter!
You know, a long time back, I avoid reading this novel. 84 chap was translated back then. But the last updated date clearly show that it is abandoned. Afraid that I will be left with cliffhangee with no way to cont read as it was abandoned, I stop altogether at around chap 30 to avoid heartbreak. I’m so gladdd this was pick up again
Now I read with peace of mind even though no completely translated yet because there’s a guarantee that it will be updated and not hopeless abandonment. Thank you translator.
🥺🥺