Omega Manual chapter 35

Sandstorm

The Gobi Desert after the campfire went out was very cold.

Or maybe it was after the light went out, the pitch-black darkness intensified the feeling of coldness, making people even more eager to touch warmth.

In the darkness, the rustling sound of the sleeping bag was particularly clear, the soft fabric collapsed, and then Irey felt Shelley’s delicate wrist. He followed the force and pulled him, feeling the whole person falling into his arms.

Warm, solid, soft hair brushed against his temple, like holding an entire sun.

Irey shifted his body sideways, making room for Shelley, then zipped up the sleeping bag, and it immediately became warm inside.

But his boss apparently wasn’t quite satisfied with the current situation. His slender fingers reached deeper, insisting on making their way into Irey’s pants.

Irey let out a short breath and reached for Shelley’s hand.

“Don’t dirty it,” Shelley’s voice sounded low, “I brought tissues.”

Who asked you for that?

Irey raised his head, slowly exhaling the air from his chest, “Boss, you really resemble those demons who sneak attack people at midnight, going straight to the point once you’re in.”

In the darkness, Shelley’s face couldn’t be seen if it turned red, but his tone wasn’t particularly polite.

“I wonder who was propping up a tent pole against my thigh just now and posing as a gentleman,” Shelley said.

Irey laughed, and there was a muffled vibration in his chest with the laughter.

He shifted his body to a different position, released Shelley’s wrist, and leaned over to the other side. The sound of the metal zipper collided in the heavy sleeping bag. Irey lowered his head and kissed roughly around Shelley’s ear.

“Then let’s reciprocate a bit.”

Back in Nantes, Shelley quite liked drinking tea.

Oolong tea wasn’t his absolute favorite, but it was well-known, appearing on the tea table every few days.

But now Shelley felt like he could never enjoy this kind of tea again in his life.

Oolong tea was now linked with this man who had nothing in common with tea. Even if he just caught a whiff of its fragrance, he would think of Irey’s brown eyes, his playful smile, the sweat beads rolling down his sharp jaw, and the slippery touch between his fingers.

The heat surged in the narrow space, like a vivid and fragrant dream, every sensation as clear as if it were recorded on a disc, yet it felt like a false illusion that would dissipate in the next moment.

Even so, Shelley still leaned into it, giving the illusion a kiss. The illusion clasped his hand back, returning the kiss.

But when it ended, the illusion didn’t disappear, but sat up to tidy up the aftermath for the exhausted boss. Moonlight shone on his bare upper body, vaguely showing the texture of his muscles.

“Halton.”

Shelley’s weary voice came from the darkness.

“Hmm?” Irey opened the zipper of the tent slightly and tossed the crumpled tissue out through the gap.

“What time is it now?”

Irey glanced at his phone, “It’s half past twelve.”

Shelley groaned, turned on his side, lifted his elbow to shield his face, and said with some regret, “I can’t believe I helped you with your situation for half an hour.”

“You flatter me, boss,” Irey shamelessly replied.

“No one’s flattering you!” Shelley angrily shook his hand.

After the tenderness faded away, his wrist felt sore and painful, almost disobedient. Apart from the overnight rush of engineering data five years ago, he hadn’t exerted his hands this intensively before.

Irey chuckled, using the moonlight to grab Shelley’s hand and put it on his knee. “Do you have tendonitis or something similar?”

Shelley lazily murmured, “Hmm, how did you know?”

“Those white-collar workers who stare at their computer screens all day like you, many of them have a bit,” Irey said, using both hands to hold Shelley’s palm, gently massaging along the muscle lines. Each press targeted the sore spots on Shelley’s hand, making him feel much better instantly.

“How do you even know how to do this?” Shelley asked with his eyes half closed in contentment.

“I learned massage from someone for a while before giving up before finishing,” Irey said, massaging as he spoke.

“Why?” Shelley looked at him.

“I had a bad temper,” Irey said. “The first time I massaged a client, he cursed so much from the pain that I almost dragged him up and beat him.”

Shelley burst into laughter. He could almost imagine that scene.

“Alright,” Irey finally patted Shelley’s palm twice, as if ending a ritual. “It’s time to sleep for real.”

Shelley didn’t say anything. In the darkness, there was no response except for the warmth from his palm. Just when Irey thought he might have fallen asleep like that, Shelley suddenly spoke again.

“Halton,” his voice was soft, tinged with the laziness of post-pleasure, “I suddenly remembered, this tent has another function.”

“What?” Irey was puzzled by this non sequitur conversation.

In the darkness, Shelley reached out his arm towards Irey’s side, just as Irey was contemplating whether to hug him back. Shelley’s fingers pressed a button on the tent fabric.

Then there was a whooshing sound, and Irey was surprised to see the top of the tent slowly opening. Through a layer of transparent waterproof plastic, the ethereal moonlight poured down from above, illuminating him and Shelley.

Countless stars poured down in the deep, dark night sky, a magnificent Milky Way stretched across the entire horizon, shimmering beautifully.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” Shelley asked. “If it weren’t for you, I might never have remembered it had this function.”

“It’s very beautiful,” Irey said.

Shelley’s profile had a subtle smile under the starlight, his golden hair spread out on the pillow.

Perhaps this was the most beautiful scenery he had ever seen in his life, Irey thought.

They stayed like that, squeezed together in the same sleeping bag, watching the stars. Shelley himself didn’t know when he fell asleep.

Since the disaster five years ago, he hadn’t slept so soundly for a long time, not even a dream.

However, in the middle of the night, he was awakened by a tremendous, terrifying roar mixed with crashing noises.

After opening his eyes, it took him a while to pull his mind back from the depths of sleep, only to find the entire tent shaking violently, the transparent waterproof fabric overhead showing no moonlight or stars, all obscured by the swirling yellow sand.

Irey, who had woken up at some point, sat upright with clear eyes.

“Sandstorm,” he said simply.

Shelley’s brain blanked for a couple of seconds, then he reached for the tent zipper to go outside.

“Don’t!” Irey shouted loudly, grabbing his arm and pulling him back, “Are you crazy? The sand will bury you too!”

“The car will be buried!” Shelley roared.

“That’s not an option either!” Irey forcibly pushed him back to his original position, rushing to lock the tent zipper. However, during this process, a lot of yellow sand had already flown in, making him cough several times. “What can you do by running out? Before you reach the car, the sand will bury you alive!”

Luckily, the tent was sturdy enough, with its four corners firmly embedded in the ground, showing no sign of slackening despite the howling wind and sand outside.

Shelley held onto a corner of the sleeping bag tightly, his eyes bloodshot, but he knew Irey was right. In the face of such a sudden natural disaster, weak humans had no other choice but to wait for the judgment of fate.

The sandstorm lasted the whole night, showing a slight weakening trend after sunrise, but it wasn’t until the sun rose above the hill that it completely stopped.

Their tent was half-buried in yellow sand. After Irey opened the zipper, sand flooded in like a flood, submerging Shelley up to his waist.

Irey crawled out of the tent first, then reached back to grab Shelley’s hand, pulling him out of the tent with a strong tug.

Shelley staggered for a few steps, finally standing steady with Irey’s help.

Looking around, the Gobi desert no longer resembled its original appearance. It was covered with yellow sand and rubble everywhere, shorter vegetation submerged, and only a few tall trees still stood in place, but the wild birds perched on them had disappeared.

Everything was eerily quiet, with only the faint sound of footsteps on the yellow sand.

As expected, the sports car was surrounded by yellow sand, with only half of the car window exposed, both the front and rear of the car buried in sand.

Irey walked over, digging through the sand with some effort, but as soon as he dug a little, the sand beside it rushed in to fill the gap. After struggling for half a day, with no sign of the sand level decreasing, Irey had to announce his surrender and sit on top of the sand pile.

He subconsciously reached into his pocket, only to remember that he had smoked his last cigarette.

“It’s hopeless. We can’t get it out by manpower alone.” Irey looked up at Shelley. “What are you planning to do?”

Shelley frowned, circling the sports car, stubbornly scooping sand down with his hands, but the result was always the same.

“Isn’t there any other way?” he asked.

“Sand like this, even if you call ten strong men, they might not be able to handle it,” Irey said. “Fortunately, we didn’t hit any rocks or tree trunks. There shouldn’t be much damage. Find a place to clean the engine, and it should be able to run again. It’s not a big deal.”

Shelley stared at the red roof of the car in silence.

“Call your family’s people and have them send a crane or something over,” Irey leaned back, resting his head against the car door. “And bring some food and water too, I’m starving.”

Shelley remained silent for a moment before speaking, “If I make the call, I’ll be sent back to Nantes.”

“Then go back. What else can you do in this situation? We can’t just head to Mount Yinbu, can we?” Irey said. “Go back, rest, prepare more, and then continue. Isn’t that better?”

Shelley remained silent.

“Boss,” Irey sat up straight, looking at him, “whenever you need me, just call. I’ll be there whenever you need, no running away.”

The noon sun was intense and dazzling, making Shelley’s eyes even clearer, like translucent gemstones, beautiful yet inorganic.

“I remember, fifteen kilometers south from here, there’s a train to Duhaat,” he said softly.