The white dog had been so terrified by what had just happened that it barked wildly and took off running.

The monster chased straight after it, and in a matter of seconds, both disappeared behind a sand dune.

One of the escorters from the caravan behind them cursed loudly. With one less traveler to escort, his pay would now be docked accordingly.

This was the Panlong Desert’s way of introducing itself to outsiders.

The lighthearted mood among all the caravans that had witnessed the scene instantly vanished.

Zeng Feixiong averted his gaze and muttered, “That was his fault. On the Hongya Route, kids and dogs both need to be kept on a leash.”

“I’ve never seen a yellow flounder that big before,” He Lingchuan said, clicking his tongue. The original He Lingchuan had been an avid hunter, and he knew that the so-called “yellow flounder” was not a fish, but a desert-dwelling monster native to the sands and rocky wastelands. It specialized in ambushing small animals that wandered too close.

These creatures could dive and resurface in the sand with ease, moving even faster than four-legged creatures.

However, they were usually not any bigger than a dog. Even if they turned into a monster, they would generally not grow to that size!

“Well, this is the Panlong Desert,” said Zeng Feixiong, who had escorted many caravans through here and had long since stopped being surprised. “Wrathful spirits corrupt everything here. Even monsters that once had intelligence become warped after lingering here for too long.”

That makes sense. The sand leopards, for example, hunted in the Panlong Desert, but they likely lived and bred in the Western Mountains where the corruption had not seeped so deep.

* * *

The grand desert, for all its majesty, quickly grew monotonous to the eye.

The journey was quiet and dull, so long as one stayed on the Hongya Route. The only threats were the scorching winds, blazing sun, and the occasional sandstorm.

For well-equipped and experienced caravans, these were hardships that could be endured.

After traveling for three full days, the unit finally arrived at Baiyuan Station.

This was a relay station along the Hongya Route, a rest stop for passing merchants and travelers. It had once been an ancient city.

There were over a dozen ancient cities scattered across the Panlong Wasteland, but only a few remained after the centuries. Baiyuan City had long been swallowed by the sands, but its foundations were eventually unearthed by later settlers, who rebuilt a few rows of houses atop the ruins, right along the edge of the Hongya Route.

Similar to the Hongya Route itself, the grounds of this ancient city were protected from wrathful spirits and desert monsters. As such, it became an ideal midway stop for trade caravans.

As soon as their convoy pulled into Baiyuan Station, He Chunhua made his way over to speak with the station officers.

Yes, Heishui City had an official outpost here, complete with assigned personnel. However, regulations were far looser than they were inside Great Yuan proper.

And in a place like this, at a time like this, money really showed its worth.

Baiyuan Station permitted traveling merchants to pitch tents and camp. It also sold food and water, and for those looking to splurge, there were even rooms available for rent.

Of course, the Panlong Desert had no natural water sources. Every single item, whether it be food, water, or building materials, had to be transported in from Heishui City.

Where there’s demand, there’s business. To profit here, you first had to grease the right palms among the station officers, then go through all the trouble of hauling supplies into this barren wasteland.

With all the costs stacked layer upon layer, a simple combo of one steamed bun and one bottle of clean water sold for thirty wen[1]. Not expensive, right?

A bowl of lamb stew—just the oily broth, mind you, with no actual chunks of meat—went for two qian of silver[2]. Not expensive, right?

And a small hut for an overnight stay? Five taels of silver. And the moment you stepped inside, you would feel like you were getting a bargain, right?

If you wanted to take a hot bath in the desert to wash away the dust and fatigue of the journey—

Well, State Preceptor Sun, Commandant Nian, and Young Lord He certainly did. Which meant that Commandery Administrator He had no choice but to foot the bill.

Just this single indulgence alone costs enough to buy over three thousand square meters of top-grade farmland near Heishui City, permanently at that.

After a soak and a few deluxe meal sets that filled him only halfway, He Lingchuan finally felt somewhat restored.

Despite his strong and sturdy frame, the past three days of travel had worn him out. Who knew how many more hardships lay ahead?

By contrast, He Chunhua still seemed perfectly composed, clearly not as frail and scholarly as he appeared on the surface.

He Lingchuan also bought a few set meals for Zeng Feixiong. Otherwise, the man, who was clearly short on funds, would have had to gnaw on cold buns with the regular soldiers.

Zeng Feixiong tried to decline several times, feeling uneasy about the gesture. However, he simply did not have the will to refuse for long, and in the end, he could only accept it with a guilty heart, offering repeated thanks.

He Lingchuan, however, knew that this man was upright but not foolish, and since he was leading the unit into the desert this time, He Lingchuan patted him on the shoulder and said, “Eat well and drink well, you’ll need strength to do your job. Our safety, my father’s and mine, is in your hands.”

“Young Lord He and your esteemed father have treated this lowly officer with great kindness and even resolved my family troubles. I would gladly give my life in return!”

“There’s no need for such dramatic declarations,” He Lingchuan said as he laughed heartily. “By the way, I heard your father was the only man who ever returned alive from the Panlong Ruins?”

Zeng Feixiong’s expression darkened slightly. “Yes. Twenty years ago, someone paid him a fortune to serve as a guide. He was the only one who made it back. But ever since then, his mind has been an utter mess. Not even the grand shaman could cure him. No one knows what happened out there. All he ever mutters is one word… water.”

“Water?” In a place like the desert, water was indeed precious. What kind of torment had Zeng Feixiong’s father endured to be haunted by it even after losing his sanity?

Just then, Sun Fuping called for everyone. He was gathering several key members to meet in his hut.

A guard brought in a large pile of desert sand and poured it across the table.

A simple sand table had been made.

“We’re nearly through the Hongya Route,” Zeng Feixiong said as he gestured across the sand. “The day after tomorrow, we’ll be leaving the main road and entering the open desert. That’s when the real challenge begins. The Hongya Route originally connected all the way to Panlong City. It was a military road, after all, so it had to at least allow the delivery of troops and supplies to the outskirts of the city. But not long after the Panlong Wasteland turned into a desert, the surrounding mountains collapsed and buried the route.”

He traced a circle on the sand. “Now, if you want to reach Panlong City, you have to take a detour through a gap in Mount Yingfu.”

That detour veered off the Hongya Route and into uncharted territory. This single detour meant that danger would increase massively.

Compared to what lay ahead, the last three days had been a vacation.

The group then discussed various countermeasures.

Though the He father and son had their tensions with Sun Fuping and Nian Songyu, when it came to their own survival, they participated with full focus.

He Lingchuan listened quietly the entire time, and only when the conversation neared its end did he finally voice a question that had long puzzled him, “Panlong City was a remote outpost surrounded on all sides, and yet it held out for thirty-two years. That’s nothing short of legendary. So what caused it to ultimately fall?”

It was one of the great mysteries of the Panlong Desert. Neither official records nor local legends offered a clear answer. Only among storytellers did one hear vague theories and half-baked speculation.

He Lingchuan continued, “Could it really be, like the people of Heishui City claim, that after Zhong Shengguang died of illness, Panlong City lost its guiding force?”

People have a tendency to assign neat explanations to unsolved mysteries. Zhong Shengguang had guarded Panlong City for over thirty years, aging from a vigorous young general into an old man. Prolonged war could wear down even the strongest mind and body. Among all the legends He Lingchuan had heard, this one at least seemed plausible.

He was genuinely curious about the truth.

“From what I’ve pieced together, that theory does hold a grain of truth. Panlong City did lose its core leader,” Sun Fuping said as he poured himself a cup of water, clear water that cost twenty wen per cup. “However, that core leader was not Zhong Shengguang but the Red General.”

1. A wen/copper cash coin is a unit of currency that is supposed to be a thousandth of a tael/liang. However, across history, the equivalency varied. ☜

2. A qian is a unit of weight equivalent to a tenth of the weight of a tael. This was eventually standardized to 5 grams as the weight of a tael was standardized to 50 grams. ☜