Shiry Yang twisted his watch and set an alarm: "It's two o'clock in the morning, and we only have three hours.
The sand will collapse at any time after the sun comes up.
No matter whether we find it or not, we must exit."
Lao Chuai, who was standing nearby, was holding a walkie-talkie and said to me while trembling: "Let me go down.
It's not worth it for you to get into trouble because of me."
"Stand guard and provide logistical support.
If anything happens, just call.
You don't have to worry about the rest."
I checked the communicator and found that the signal was good, but I didn't know if it would still work after I got down.
Lao Cai's face was covered with ice and his eyes were red.
He held the communicator and nodded desperately.
I said, "Don't cry.
When the cold wind blows, your eyelids will be frozen."
He laughed stupidly, which was worse than crying.
I set up a simple tripod at the entrance of the cave, fastened the rope, and slid down first.
Shiry Yang and Fatty followed closely behind.
After passing through the sand, we landed smoothly.
The fat man touched the soil under his feet, dug out the shovel head and inserted it.
"That's right, five-flower soil," the fat man pointed to the part closest to the handle, "but the color of the new soil is a bit wrong.
Why is it mixed with white sand?"
I was also very surprised.
I took a handful and put it in my hand.
The color was indeed wrong: "This is the sand of White Milk Beach."
Shiry Yang said on guard: "This place is at least twenty meters above the surface.
The penetration of the sand layer is not that severe.
It must be traces left when the soil layer is turned."
"Man-made" reminds me of Gong Chaoyang's description.
Apart from him, there is no other researcher on the Green Sea Base.
"Could it be that we have met each other for thousands of miles?"
I quickly overturned this idea.
Judging from the process of digging and the condition of the subsoil, there were no robber holes around.
Besides, who else would know about the town besides us?
The existence of the ancient city of Ku "Why are you thinking so much?
It's all in vain."
The fat man took off his coat and said, "Let's go to the underground palace first.
I'll dig it."
In order to ensure the air quality, we did not go down immediately after opening the underground palace.
I lit a carbon rod and threw it into the hole.
White smoke continued to float up along the entrance of the hole.
It seemed that the underground condition was good.
I stuck the flashlight on, put my marching bag under my butt, and slowly started to go deep into the underground palace of the Dragon-Slaying General Ketuo along the Robbery Cave.
As I walked, I repeatedly thought about the meaning of the jar of yellow sand.
First of all, it doesn't look like a panacea.
It can't be swallowed raw or fried in oil.
Secondly, the sand shouldn't be effective immediately.
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Otherwise, why would Tuizushan go to all the trouble to bring it out?
It won't end if it is used on the spot.
As for so many troubles happening.
I thought hard, but I still couldn't understand the meaning of the yellow sand in the amphora.
When it comes to sand, it is everywhere in Northern Xinjiang.
And each one looks the same as the rest, even if it is placed in front of me, it is impossible to identify it.
"Comrade Lao Yang, do you know Sha Sha?"
I looked up and asked Shiry Yang and found that she was collecting fossil fragments in the soil.
"Sand."
She unplugged the flashlight and shook it twice in my eyes.
"What kind of sand do you want?"
"No, no, no, what I mean is, if there are several different types of sand in front of you, can you distinguish them at a glance and then find the one you need?"
Shiry Yang put the flashlight back in his pocket and continued to climb down: "If you have comparison samples and experimental equipment, there will be no difficulty."
"Theoretically speaking, even an experienced mountain mover can't do anything without the assistance of relevant equipment."
She hesitated for a moment: "I'm not sure.
There are many long-lost scrolls in the secret art of moving mountains.
It would not be surprising if there is such a strange method.
But it is always untrustworthy with bare hands and naked eyes."
"Old Hu, I have some small personal opinions that I need to mention," the fat man coughed twice, "The person we are talking to depends on the occasion and the time should be allocated.
You guys can talk, don't rest, hurry up and get on with it."
I let go of the earth and rocks at my feet and continued moving forward, feeling a little more confident.
Since there are no special skills in Tuizu Mountain, what we are looking for must be particularly conspicuous.
After climbing some distance, I saw a faint light coming from the entrance of the cave.
The carbon rod I just dropped had not yet burned out.
It seemed that there was plenty of air in the tomb.
I jumped suddenly and landed directly on the ground.
Unexpectedly, the surface was actually covered with sand.
The rising dust choked people's eyes and turned gray.
The fat man cursed: "The barbarian land is really backward, and even the basic health problems have not been solved.
Bah, bah, Another mouthful of sand."
I raised my flashlight and looked around.
Except for the traces of man-made chiseling on the dome above our heads, we were surrounded by natural rock walls.
It seems that this tomb was also built to conform to the terrain.
I followed the light and began to observe the rough rock walls.
There were several scrawled murals painted on the uneven walls.
I took a few steps back before I could roughly see the contents of the murals.
It was a crimson four-clawed dragon crawling on the golden desert, and opposite the dragon were rows of armored cavalry waiting in formation.
At the top of the mural is a black-faced giant with an angry tiger's head, holding a golden whip and swooping down to watch the bloody battle that is about to take place in the desert.
The contents of several other murals are similar, mainly depicting the battle process in which the red dragon was surrendered.
There is nothing in the empty tomb except for wall-to-wall petroglyphs.
I realized a serious problem: the planning was wrong and the hole was missed.
Shiry Yang analyzed that although the content of the mural is solemn and solemn, the brushwork is sloppy, the picture is rough, and there are traces of repeated smearing in some places.
We have seen tomb paintings in the Jingjue River Basin, and the general level of craftsmen is much higher here.
So according to her understanding, the giant spirit slaying the dragon on the rock wall is not like the work of a regular mural master, but more like Doodles in my spare time.
I have not studied tomb paintings, but I also remember that the murals in the Jingjue Tomb are dominated by lines and light and dark.
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The style is completely different from the colorful rock paintings in front of us.
The fat man reached out and touched the paint on the rock wall and licked it.
I was startled by his move and hurriedly reviewed my mistake: "I shouldn't have competed with you for the roast leg of lamb in the afternoon.
If we were hungry, there were two packs of compressed biscuits in our bag, and we wouldn't want to eat the things in the tomb."
The fat man grinned and said that this was the earthwork he read in the book, and he wanted to try it out to see if it worked
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