When I was a child, the cattle farm filled with swallows made it hard for me to tell whether it was a place for raising swallows or cattle. I don't know why there were so many swallows. Upon reflection, they couldn't be bats; they wouldn't fly in such large numbers during the day, chaotic in the open Gobi Desert, but miraculously, they seemed to avoid collisions, or perhaps if they did collide, they could adjust their flight posture in time. They weren't sparrows either; the colors were wrong, as they were mostly black with little white.
The Gobi Desert might have been green grassland before, grazed bare by cattle, temporarily abandoned. There could be many such lands in the Western Regions, and on such land, one could see several holes, some large and some small, with no signs of human entry. Perhaps someone had entered before, but the winds and sands of time erased the traces.
I was fostered at my aunt's house, and I wasn't very brave. If I had to crawl into that hole by myself, I wouldn't dare at all. My cousin and his classmates were very adventurous; in this collective farm area, whether it was private land or uninhabited territory, whether in trees or water, anything they wanted was easily within reach. However, they were unwilling to take me along; I was six years younger than them, and I was only 6 or 7 years old at the time.
But this time, they brought me along to explore the cave. Now that I think about it, was there some kind of conspiracy? Probably not. More people just meant more courage. Exploring a cave required some preparation; candles and matches were essential, and they also brought yarn, the kind used for knitting sweaters, which I didn't know what to do with at the time but was asked to hold. When we arrived at the location, they lit two candles, but the wind was too strong, and they blew out before we could enter the cave. After trying twice, someone suggested that since there was no wind inside the cave, we should go in first, but no one moved because, although it was noon and the sun was blazing, the cave was incredibly dark. Everyone was scared, looking at each other's palms and backs of hands, trying to see who would be unlucky; in fact, the two of them had already exchanged glances, perhaps a roll of the eyes or a few blinks was a signal meaning "palm up," but I didn't know that. So every time at this moment, I felt like the chosen one.
I was light because I was thin. But one of them couldn't possibly lift me into the cave; although it looked quite shallow, I didn't dare to jump directly in. One person pulled my left hand, and another pulled my right hand, and that's how I entered the cave entrance. It was dark, only darkness at first. I wanted to close my eyes, but I didn't dare. Some places underfoot were soft, and some were hard; I could feel that without moving my feet. I could hear a howling sound, a sensation that only one ear could pick up. My vision gradually adapted to the darkness, and I could see some details inside the cave. The cave wasn't deep, and the entrance was an irregular circle, likely formed by natural collapse. Inside the cave, there were two directions extending into dark holes; the cave was about 70-80 cm wide. They asked me if I was afraid of ghosts, and I said I wasn't.
My cousin said, "Move a bit to the side; I'll go down too." I didn't dare to crawl into the dark hole; I pressed myself against the cave wall to let him down. My cousin came down and said, "Why are you shaking?" I said, "Where's the candle? Light it quickly!" There really was no wind inside the cave, so it wouldn't go out once lit, but the effect was indeed not significant, only increasing the visible range by 1 or 2 meters.
Suddenly! Something burned me; I looked at my arm, and the wax from the candle dripped onto it, startling both of them! Then they tried to hold the candles more steadily. We lit three candles, one for each of us; my cousin was in front, I was in the middle, and we walked towards the silent side. I was hunched over, while they crawled. Later, I crawled too, feeling safer that way. Inside the cave, there wasn't much except for scattered small stones embedded in the dirt, some places had fallen rock, leaving a small pile below. Our speed matched my cousin's, and I didn't know how long we had been crawling inside, feeling like years had passed. Suddenly, my cousin said, "Dead end. Retreat." Initially, I thought they would switch places, but it was indeed unnecessary, and then his classmate became the leader. On the way back, we moved much faster, and I seemed to vaguely see a light ahead.
We quickly reached the cave entrance; after some commotion, everyone wasn't so scared anymore. We set off towards the direction of the sound. Our speed was still slow, cautiously moving, clearing the stones that hurt our feet to the sides. Suddenly, we stopped, saying they discovered a creature. I couldn't tell if its eyes were yellow or green or what color; there were a total of two points. Four or five meters away, or maybe even closer, someone said, "Is it a snake?" Everyone was tense. Do snakes fear fire? I didn't know. The indescribable light didn't run away either. My cousin said he would go take a look and told us to stay away so we wouldn't affect his escape. I focused my gaze on my cousin as he tried to stretch his hand forward to extend the candlelight, slowly moving forward, holding a palm-sized stone in his left hand, using it to touch the ground to reduce friction on his palm, ready to use the stone for defense at any moment. I instinctively found a stone to hold in my hand as well.
Then the light suddenly disappeared.