Searching for someone in northern Myanmar, and you call that earning tuition fees?

The sun set much faster than I had imagined.

As the last glimmer of red light disappeared below the horizon, the temperature plummeted.

Zhao Gang's breath condensed into white mist. He wrapped his windbreaker tighter around himself and looked at the steady figure walking ahead, feeling a pang of sadness.

They had been walking for four hours, and according to Su Ming's estimate, they had covered at least fifteen kilometers.

But those fifteen kilometers were not an easy walk.

The terrain in the desert is far more complex than imagined. Some places look flat, but are actually soft, shifting sands when you step on them; others look solid, but you can sink half a meter into a layer of salt and alkali.

Several times, the bodyguards almost got stuck, and Su Ming pulled them out with that bundle of hemp rope.

"Let's set up camp on that sand dune up ahead." Su Ming finally stopped and pointed to a small sand dune about ten meters high in the distance.

"On the top of the dunes? Isn't the wind even stronger there?" Gu Changfeng gasped for breath, his lungs feeling like broken bellows.

"It's safer when it's windy," Su Ming said succinctly. "Sand tends to accumulate on the leeward side, and when you wake up, the tent will be a grave mound. The windward side is more stable because the sand doesn't stay there."

Zhao Gang seemed to be deep in thought, and he had already started taking notes in his mind.

He had served as a special forces soldier for over a decade and considered himself an expert in wilderness survival, but today, he felt utterly insignificant compared to Su Ming.

The group climbed the sand dunes and began setting up tents.

Su Ming didn't help. Instead, he squatted on top of the dune and poked several holes in the sand with the sharpened bamboo stick.

"Mr. Su, what are you doing?" the assistant asked curiously.

"Measure the wind speed." Su Ming stared at the holes, frowning. "Something's not right."

"What's wrong?"

"The wind direction has changed." Su Ming stood up and looked at the distant sky. "And it changed very quickly."

Zhao Gang also noticed the anomaly.

The once clear night sky was now shrouded in a layer of gray fog.

The moon and stars are no longer visible.

"This is... a sandstorm?" Zhao Gang's expression changed drastically.

"This isn't an ordinary sandstorm," Su Ming said in a low voice, "it's a black storm."

As soon as Su Ming finished speaking, a low rumble came from afar.

The sound was like a thousand horses galloping, or like a giant beast roaring.

On the horizon, a black sand wall hundreds of meters high was rapidly approaching them.

"Holy crap!" Zhao Gang exclaimed in shock. "Everyone! Get into the tents immediately! Secure the tents tightly!"

The bodyguards hurriedly scrambled into the tent, desperately reinforcing it with ropes and iron bars.

Gu Changfeng was also pulled into the tent by his assistant, but when he looked back, he found that Su Ming was still standing on the top of the sand dune, motionless.

"Mr. Su! Are you crazy? Come in here!" Gu Changfeng roared.

"It's too late." Su Ming shook his head.

As he watched the black wall draw ever closer, he suddenly turned and ran toward the other side of the dune.

"Damn it, he's got a death wish!" Zhao Gang tried to chase after him, but as soon as he poked half his body out, he was thrown back by a tremendous force.

The black storm has arrived.

The sandstorm instantly swallowed everything, making it impossible to see anything.

The strong wind, carrying sand, scraped against our faces like countless knives, causing a painful sting.

The tent was shaking violently in the wind, making a "whooshing" sound, and could be blown away at any moment.

"Hold on tight! All of you, hold on tight!" Zhao Gang clung tightly to the main frame of the tent, veins bulging on his arms, feeling as if the tent was about to be blown apart at any moment.

Gu Changfeng lay sprawled on the ground, terrified out of his wits. He thought to himself, "It's over. That kid Su Ming ran out, and now we'll never find his remains..."

Suddenly, a strange sound came from outside the tent.

"Whoosh—whoosh—whoosh—"

It looked like something was moving at high speed.

Then, the tent flap was lifted, and a figure covered in sand rolled in.

"Mr. Su?" Gu Changfeng's eyes widened.

Su Ming was covered in sand, his hair was a mess like a bird's nest, but his eyes showed no sign of panic.

"You... how the hell did you get back?" Zhao Gang's voice was hoarse from shouting, and he looked at Su Ming as if he had seen a ghost. "The wind outside could tear a person apart!"

"I didn't go against the wind." Su Ming coughed up a mouthful of sand, his voice hoarse but calm. "The storm swept the sand from the windward side to the leeward side, forming a temporary, extremely unstable quicksand slope. I lay on the slope and let the sand carry me down."

"Get down here?!"

"Rather than be blown away by the wind, I'd rather let the sand bring me back." Su Ming wiped the sand off his face, looking tired but calm, without a trace of wishful thinking.

"As long as you maintain your center of gravity and don't get swept into the deep sand, this is the fastest way to move."

Zhao Gang's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. He imagined the scene: tumbling down a sand dune that could collapse at any moment amidst towering sandstorms—it was practically like being buried alive! He couldn't help but roar, "You're fucking gambling with your life!"

"No, it's calculation." Su Ming looked at him and shook his head. "The wind is uncontrollable, but the movement of the sand is predictable. In that situation, that's the only way to survive."

He took the bundle of hemp rope out of his backpack and began setting it up inside the tent.

"Your tents aren't secured correctly," Su Ming said while working. "Hands can only secure the bottom of the tent, but they can't block lateral wind pressure. You need to use ropes to connect the tent to the sand dune as a whole, forming a stable triangular structure."

He moved swiftly, reinforcing the entire tent with hemp rope in less than five minutes.

The swaying of the tent was indeed significantly reduced.

"Physics." Su Ming clapped his hands, looking completely matter-of-fact. "The decomposition and composition of forces, junior high school knowledge, basics, don't be surprised."

Zhao Gang was completely convinced.

Compared to Su Ming, his more than ten years of special forces experience is simply insignificant.

The black storm lasted for a full three hours.

By the time the wind subsided, it was already late at night.

When everyone lifted the tent flap, they discovered that the outside world had been completely transformed.

The original sand dunes are gone, replaced by a flat sandy area.

And their tents were standing there perfectly intact.

"This..." Gu Changfeng looked around, completely dumbfounded.

"So what do we do?"

"Keep going." Su Ming looked up at the night sky.

After the storm, the night sky was exceptionally clear, filled with stars.

"It's 2:15 a.m. now." Su Ming pointed to the Big Dipper in the sky. "According to astronomical calculations, the expedition team lost contact about 60 kilometers to the northeast. If we set off now, we can reach them before dawn."

"Let's go now?" Zhao Gang was stunned. "But... we've been walking all day, and everyone is exhausted."

"You can sleep if you're tired," Su Ming said casually, "but Gu Weiguang and her teammates probably can't wait for us to wake up."

Gu Changfeng's heart tightened, and his eyes immediately reddened.

"Let's go! Let's go now!" he said through gritted teeth.

Su Ming nodded, slung his canvas bag over his shoulder, and led the way toward the desert under the starry sky.

He walked alone into the darkness ahead, his shadow stretching long across the sand in the moonlight.

Behind him, the crowd followed silently, their eyes hardening.

Although the road ahead was dangerous, seeing Su Ming walking at the front made everyone feel much more at ease.