Wei Zhenfeng stepped down from the Crown Prince’s carriage, his clothes in disarray from the fierce wind. His subordinates had already found a temporary place to spend the night: behind a massive rock, where the stone wall offered shelter from the swirling yellow sand.

The group gathered around a fire they had managed to start. Yun Yong and Hua Ju roasted sweet potatoes, while Ji Chong took out a bamboo tube, filled it with water, added some dark herbs, and began to simmer it over the fire. Soon, the medicinal aroma overpowered the scent of the sweet potatoes.

Hua Ju asked, “Brother Ji, are you feeling unwell? Why are you drinking medicine?”

“This isn’t medicine; it’s herbal tea,” Ji Chong explained with a hint of melancholy.

Hua Ju was hearing of this for the first time. “Herbal tea?”

“This is a prescription from the Divine Physician Bai of Nanjing,” Ji Chong explained, “It’s for clearing heat, reducing internal fire, and nourishing the liver and stomach.”

“Does it work?” the Young Prince, who had been quiet, suddenly spoke up. “If it does, make a pot for me too.”

As they ventured deeper into the desert, the carriage could no longer move on the sand. Zhao Mian had to abandon it, applying sunscreen and donning a veiled hat to ride a horse like everyone else.

Beiyuan’s people felt a sense of psychological balance. See? Even Crown Prince, as noble as golden branches and jade leaves, had to endure the elements just like them in the desert. Tonight, with no luxurious carriage to sleep in, he would have to make do with the sky as his roof and the ground as his bed.

Then, they watched in stunned silence as Shen Buqi hauled a tent from the carriage that held the Crown Prince’s supplies. He set it up with lightning speed, then began moving in a soft couch, a table, and a bathtub…

The next day, after a weary night in the desert, they all looked haggard and listless. The Crown Prince, however, was as radiant as ever, his skin like ice and jade. He looked as if he could change his clothes and go straight to a state banquet.

The people of Beiyuan: …What a difference.

The group traveled with great haste, arriving ten days later at Red Sea Sands, the Beiyuan army’s garrison in the desert.

After crossing the final sand dune, amidst the desert beacon fires and the mournful cries of wild geese, a trumpet blast heralded the sight of Beiyuan’s vast encampment.

This place was the border between the Central Plains and the outer regions. Further west was the territory of the nomadic people. Beiyuan had a standing army of 50,000 soldiers here, partly to defend the western frontier of the Central Plains and partly to guard against the two southern and eastern kingdoms. If Dongling and Nanjing were to make a move against Beiyuan, the northern army and the western garrison could form a pincer attack, surrounding the enemy on both sides.

It was dusk, and in the golden light, the crimson flags at the camp gates were half-furled. The tens of thousands of tents were arranged in a grid, resembling a fortress—a truly magnificent sight.

Even though the view was breathtakingly spectacular, Zhao Mian and Zhou Huairang still had criticisms to make and faults to pick.

When the two of them badmouthed other countries, they usually had the decency to avoid doing so in front of its people, keeping their gossip behind others’ backs. Unfortunately, the Young Prince wasn’t tactful and insisted on following them.

Zhao Mian: “The tents of the Beiyuan army are so small.”

Zhou Huairang: “Indeed, indeed. Not even a third the size of ours in Nanjing.”

Wei Zhenfeng explained, “Size doesn’t matter, as long as they’re sturdy.”

Zhou Huairang: “Your Highness, look at these bows and arrows. Don’t they look exactly like they were made in Nanjing?”

Zhao Mian: “Truly. Does Beiyuan not make its own arrows?”

Wei Zhenfeng continued his explanation: “We bought them with money. Thank you very much.”

Zhao Mian: “Look at the armor on the Beiyuan soldiers. Can that really protect them from the cold?”

Zhou Huairang: “Responding to Your Highness, your subordinate has his doubts.”

Wei Zhenfeng gave up explaining and said coldly, “You two, don’t you dare leave after this. I will personally drag you back to Shengjing to see for yourselves.”

What kind of master and servant were these? Together, they could badmouth a hundred people in the time it took an incense stick to burn.

“The Prince has also visited Shangjing of Nanjing,” Zhao Mian’s arrogance intensified at the mention of his own capital. “Why subject yourself to such humiliation?”

“Don’t be too confident— be careful of getting slapped in the face,” Wei Zhenfeng said casually. “Nanjing may have many prosperous cities, but Shengjing is in no way inferior to your Shanjing.”

This was a reflection of the two countries’ different development strategies. Nanjing had favorable geographical conditions, and there were many large cities within its borders that were as wealthy and prosperous as Shangjing. Cities like Luocheng and Lin’an could rival Shangjing.

But for Beiyuan, Shengjing stood as the unrivaled center amidst many strong contenders. A capital built with the full might of the nation, more than a match for Shangjing.

The Beiyuan garrison commander was a man named He Kaiji, who appeared to be an experienced old general. He “appeared” so because General He’s temples were gray, and his face was covered in deep, rough wrinkles.

Wei Zhenfeng then informed Zhao Mian that General He was only in his early thirties and had only been in the desert for two years.

Zhao Mian was quiet for a moment, thinking of his own master and adoptive father, the great General He Changzhou, one of the four grandmasters of the realm, who had been guarding the northern border for many years.

General He had left the capital five years ago and had been stationed at the northern border ever since. Zhao Mian clearly remembered his master as a handsome and spirited young man five years ago. Although he was of the same generation as the Emperor and the Prime Minister, he always got along well with the younger generation. His master was also one of the few people who didn’t find his younger brother annoying, even the Emperor and the Prime Minister often “disliked” his brother.

Guarding the border was difficult, and time was unforgiving. Would his master, like He Kaiji, have white hair before he even reached forty?

When Zhao Mian mentioned this to the Marquis Anyuan, the old marquis offered great comfort. “Your Highness, rest assured. The northern border is not the desert. While the conditions can’t compare to the capital, with sufficient military funds, the soldiers are well-fed and warm. As for General He, he is as he has been for a decade. Even if Little Shen’s hair turns white, his won’t.”

Shen Buqi: “…”

He Kaiji had learned of the Young Prince’s arrival at the Red Sea Sands a few days prior and had specially prepared a banquet to welcome him.

In the past two years, the nomadic people had been well-behaved. After Beiyuan took over Western Xia, there had been no more wars, and the border soldiers had a relatively peaceful life. He Kaiji ordered several cattle and sheep to be slaughtered and roasted whole over the fire. He also selected some of the finest wines from the Western Regions from his collection of spoils of war. Zhao Mian finally got to see the legendary dark-skinned dancers.

These dancers were native desert women whose skin was indeed several shades darker than that of women from the Central Plains. But their skin was smooth, not rough. Their features were striking, their eyes captivating, and their figures were exceptionally graceful. What was particularly eye-catching was their makeup: they wore veils, and their outfits were shimmering with gold. With every move, the bells on their wrists and ankles would produce a crisp, melodic sound, like music from another world.

Zhou Huairang’s eyes were wide as he exclaimed, “They are so beautiful! They could form a girl group and debut.”

Ji Chong was puzzled. “A girl group?”

Zhou Huairang: “Don’t you have them in Beiyuan?”

“No. What is that?”

Zhou Huairang then began to explain the origin of Nanjing’s girl groups to Ji Chong.

In a few words, it was something their Emperor had done out of boredom, bringing together several exceptionally talented court singers and dancers to form a group. They became incredibly famous in the capital, enjoying a brief period of intense popularity and inspiring many wealthy nobles to spend a fortune on them.

“No one can resist a girl group,” Zhou Huairang declared. “No one.”

After the dance ended, Wei Zhenfeng noticed that Zhao Mian had not offered a single word of critique, which meant the Crown Prince could find no fault with them. He asked knowingly, “What does Lord Xiao think? Have you changed your mind about dark skin?”

Zhao Mian reluctantly admitted, “Dark skin on women does have its own unique charm.” But then, he added a sentence to save face: “But on men, it’s still ugly.”

Wei Zhenfeng then said, “In that case, I’ll find you a few dark-skinned handsome men another day.”

No sooner had he said it than the Young Prince’s brow furrowed. Why do I keep showing Zhao Mian handsome people? I’m not dark-skinned myself, so am I just trying to prove that dark-skinned people can also be attractive?

…This damn need to win.

Fortunately, Zhao Mian wasn’t interested. “Men are not necessary. However, that dancer in the purple dress with curly hair was quite unique. She’s worthy of being the leader of the desert girl group.”

Wei Zhenfeng disagreed. “What kind of taste does Lord Xiao have? In terms of poise and dance skills, the one in the yellow dress with straight hair was clearly superior.”

Zhao Mian retorted, “Are you blind? The one in the purple dress with curly hair was a hundred times better than the one in the yellow dress.”

Wei Zhenfeng laughed, refusing to back down. “A hundred times? Do you just say things without thinking…”

The debate over who should be the leader of the desert girl group continued until the banquet was over. As the music ended and people dispersed, they all returned to their tents to rest. Tired from the journey and having drunk a lot of wine, Zhou Huairang and the others fell asleep the moment their heads hit the pillows.

With the general hosting a grand banquet tonight, the soldiers, having enjoyed the feast and a bit of a buzz, were now in their most vulnerable state.

Huo Kangsheng was imprisoned in a secluded stable, his chains bound to a fence. Days of torture had left him half-dead; his cheeks were sunken, and his bulging eyes, like an eagle’s, keenly observed his surroundings in the dark.

A drunken soldier staggered toward the stable. He found a dark corner, unfastened his trousers, and relieved himself.

Huo Kangsheng listened to the trickling sound, and when it stopped, he said, “Fetch this old man some water.”

The soldier put his trousers back on and turned around with a puzzled look.

Huo Kangsheng licked his lips and said in a hoarse voice, “If I don’t get water, I’ll die of thirst.”

Everyone knew that Huo Kangsheng was the key to finding the Western Xia treasure for both Nanjing and Beiyuan, so they couldn’t let him die before he spoke.

The soldier said lazily, “Wait.”

Huo Kangsheng was anxious, but he forced himself to be patient. He knew this was not the time to be impatient.

After a while, the soldier came back with a broken bowl, holding it out. “Here.”

Huo Kangsheng raised his chained hands, “Can’t you see I can’t reach it?”

The soldier impatiently “tsk’d,” and bent down to hand the water to Huo Kangsheng.

The moment he got close, Huo Kangsheng’s eyes sharpened. He wrapped the chain around the soldier’s neck and pulled it tight with all his remaining strength.

The soldier’s eyes widened as he struggled, but he soon passed out. Huo Kangsheng pulled a knife from the soldier’s waist, cut the chain between his wrists, and then put on the soldier’s armor. Using the darkness as cover, he fled.

He had successfully escaped the main camp at the army’s most defenseless moment. But he knew this was just the beginning; the extreme weather and endless sand were more terrifying than the Beiyuan army.

Huo Kangsheng ran through the vast desert, not daring to stop for a moment. He had no sense of direction; he only knew he had to get away from the Beiyuan dogs, as far as possible.

He had fought Wei Zhenfeng for many years. He had seen and knew how terrifying that young man, who could charm people with his appearance, truly was. Even dying of thirst in the desert and having his body devoured by vultures was better than being tormented in the hands of that Wei dog.

Huo Kangsheng ran all night, watching the sun slowly rise from the horizon. The hot air he exhaled turned into sweat on his forehead. The sun scorched the yellow sand, and his worn-out shoes could no longer block the heat. With every step, it felt like he was walking on fire.

The water he had snatched from the soldier had long been finished. As his lips became chapped and his mouth dry, he felt his sanity disappearing with every drop of water lost from his body. He gradually forgot who he was and why he was lost in the sea of sand. There was only one word in his mind—water.

The last bit of his sanity told him that the Beiyuan army also needed water, and their main camp wouldn’t be too far from an oasis. If he could just hold on until he found an oasis, he would have a chance to live.

Huo Kangsheng was not wrong. To facilitate access to water, the Beiyuan garrison was only an hour away from the nearest oasis—if one knew the terrain. He had been wandering aimlessly in the desert for a night and half a day when he finally saw a patch of green, a symbol of endless life.

Water shimmered, and grass was lush. Several fine horses were leisurely drinking by the river.

—Water!

Huo Kangsheng didn’t care to wonder why there were horses by the river. He ran toward the water like a madman, not caring that he lost his shoes.

Water…!

He stumbled and fell in the sand, but immediately got up and continued to run. The patch of green got closer and closer. He grinned in an almost obsessive way, until he saw the people standing next to the horses.

Ji Chong raised his hand and waved at him from a distance. “Chief Huo, our Prince has been waiting for you.”

Upon hearing the word “Prince,” Huo Kangsheng’s dreamlike expression shattered in an instant. As if waking from a dream, he remembered who he was and suppressing the pain, turned around and desperately fled in the opposite direction of the oasis.

Ji Chong calmly mounted his horse and cracked his whip. “Chase him!”

How could a person who was exhausted and dying of thirst outrun warhorses that had just drunk water? Huo Kangsheng looked back as he ran, and seeing Ji Chong about to catch up to him, despair slowly engulfed him. He couldn’t escape.

Is it over… is it going to end?

Instead of running away like a dog, he might as well fight the Beiyuan soldiers to the death!

Huo Kangsheng’s heart turned to ash. He slowed down and finally stopped. He straightened his neck, wiped his face, pulled out the knife he had stolen from the soldier, and turned around sharply. In a hoarse voice, he shouted, “Beiyuan dogs!” and charged toward Ji Chong, “Beiyuan dogs, come and get me!”

He was determined to die, wanting only to take a few Beiyuan dogs with him before he went down.

Ji Chong reined in his horse, coldly snorting, “Overestimating yourself.” He pulled an arrow from the quiver on his back, about to draw his bow and string it, when suddenly his expression changed. He narrowed his eyes, looking into the distance.

In the midst of the swirling sand, a dozen figures on horseback were galloping toward them. The person in the lead shouted loudly, “Brother Huo, we’ve come to save you!”

Huo Kangsheng was stunned, and hope was rekindled in his gray eyes.

That voice! It belonged to his brothers from the Imperial City Division! They had come to save him!

The horses of the newcomers were incredibly fast, and they were in front of Huo Kangsheng in the blink of an eye. Ji Chong seemed very wary of these people and did not attack rashly, instead stopping to watch them cautiously.

The leader of the group on horseback extended his hand to Huo Kangsheng. “Brother Huo, get on!”

Huo Kangsheng had experienced such extreme joy and sorrow in a very short time, that he had no time to consider anything strange about the situation. He didn’t hesitate to grab the man’s hand, using the momentum to swing himself onto the horse behind him.

The man immediately turned the horse around. “We’ve rescued him. Retreat!”

Even as Huo Kangsheng was being led away, Ji Chong and his men did not move. Their horses trotted gently on the sand as they watched the group disappear into the dusk.

Huo Kangsheng, sitting behind the man, kept turning his head to stare at the Beiyuan dogs. Only after he was sure they weren’t being pursued did he feel his heart return to his chest. As he relaxed, the pain of thirst immediately returned. He said urgently, “Water, give me water!”

A voice next to him said, “Brother Huo, I have water here. Catch!”

Huo Kangsheng reached out his hand in a frenzy of joy. But in the next second, his expression froze.

Why does that sound like a woman’s voice? The Imperial City Division has no women.

Due to his thirst, Huo Kangsheng could barely speak. “You…”

The man in front of him turned around and grinned at him.

Huo Kangsheng’s eyes widened in terror.

He recognized this man. He was, just like Ji Chong, a lackey of Wei Zhenfeng!

So, the people who came weren’t from the Imperial City Division… they were Beiyuan dogs!

Everyone burst out laughing, the men’s boisterous laughter mixed with the women’s high-pitched voices as they encircled him, arrogant and unrestrained.

The hope that had just risen was once again crushed. Huo Kangsheng wanted to escape, but he couldn’t summon a single ounce of strength. Only his eyes stared intently at the water flask within arm’s reach.

I need water… Just a sip of water…

A sharp pain shot through his chest. Huo Kangsheng lost his balance and fell heavily, the yellow sand filling his nose and mouth. The sound of hoofbeats echoed in his ears.

“Our Prince said that since you want to run, he’d give you three chances,” a woman on a horse said with a charming smile, looking at him as if he were a toy. “You have one more chance, Brother Huo. Don’t let us catch you next time—let’s go, sisters.”

A man’s voice playfully corrected her, “It’s ‘brothers and sisters’.”

Huo Kangsheng’s face was buried in the yellow sand. Listening to the hoofbeats fade into the distance, the only parts of his body he could move were his two fingers.

The knife had also been taken. He couldn’t even end his own life, yet his mind was surprisingly clear.

From the very beginning, he had been a pawn in a game. The drunken soldier who had given him water was his first “chance.”

To kill a man is one thing, but to kill his spirit is another. This was indeed the Wei dog’s preferred method.

Hahahahaha—

Wei dog… Wei…Zhen…Feng! Wei Zhenfeng, who destroyed Western Xia!

Huo Kangsheng’s hand tightened, gripping a handful of yellow sand.

Even if he were to become a vengeful ghost, he would eat Wei Zhenfeng’s flesh and drink his blood!

He didn’t know how long passed. He felt the scorching sun on him disappear, and he started to feel cold, damn cold. He vaguely remembered sitting up, but he also felt like he was still buried in the sand, in the same position the Beiyuan dogs had left him in.

His mind became foggy, drifting between dreams and reality.

He thought of Grand Tutor Gu Ruzhang.

Thankfully, I didn’t reveal the location of the treasure. I still have the face to see Grand Tutor Gu.

Grand Tutor Gu… your subordinate is coming to join you.

Water…

He felt someone touch his shoulder, and then he found himself lying on his back under the moonlight, a blurry figure standing beside him.

Huo Kangsheng’s mouth kept opening and closing, silently repeating the same word: “Water…”

The figure was dressed in pure white, and even his hair was white, yet his face was not old at all. He looked to be in his thirties.

He was gentle and refined, with a head of silver hair, like an immortal descended to the mortal world.

Huo Kangsheng couldn’t believe he could make a sound, or his own eyes. “…Grand Tutor Gu?”

“Gu Ruzhang” looked down at him, his expression gentle. “You have suffered, Chief Huo.”

Huo Kangsheng was terrified.

“Gu Ruzhang” smiled and asked, “Why are you looking at me like that, Chief Huo? Are you very thirsty?”

Hearing the word “thirsty,” Huo Kangsheng came to a sudden realization.

He was already dead. Only in death could he see Grand Tutor Gu again.

Huo Kangsheng, a man with a full beard, wept like a child. “Yes… I am very thirsty.”

He wasn’t afraid of thirst, pain, or death. What he feared was the endless cycle of hope and despair, which had tormented him to the point of collapse.

“You will be free soon, Chief Huo,” “Gu Ruzhang” comforted him. “Do you still remember what I told you?”

Huo Kangsheng’s voice trembled. “Your subordinate… remembers.”

“Tell me about it?” “Gu Ruzhang” encouraged him. “If you get it right, I’ll reward you with water.”

Huo Kangsheng’s voice was weak but clear enough for the person beside him to hear: “Beneath the tall tower, a body of black. When noon arrives, beacon smoke rises, and the lords fight for eternity…”

“Gu Ruzhang” smiled slightly, and used the water skin in his hand to pat his face. “Such a good boy.”

The smile was a handsome one, but on Grand Tutor Gu’s face, it was completely out of place.

Would Grand Tutor Gu… smile like that?

Grand Tutor Gu’s smile always felt like a spring breeze, but the smile of the person before him was filled with deep mockery, just like during the battle of Lingzhou that year, when Wei Zhenfeng, wearing the face of his colleague, stepped over a mountain of corpses to reach the city gate,
a slight sneer on his lips uttering the word “foolish.”

Huo Kangsheng realized something, his pupils widening in shock and his heart pounding violently. “Wei…”

Whether he was about to call out “Wei dog” or “Wei Zhenfeng,” the rest of his words were swallowed by the endless darkness.

The young man tore off the human-skin mask, revealing a young face completely different from Gu Ruzhang’s. A pair of teardrop moles below his eyes shifted as he squinted. “Did he just die?”

Yun Yong walked up and checked Huo Kangsheng’s nose. “He has one last breath left. My lord, should we save him?”

“Of course,” Wei Zhenfeng said with a laugh. “I want to see the expression on his face when he wakes up and realizes he leaked the secret. It will be very interesting.”

Wei Zhenfeng tossed the human-skin mask to Yun Yong and was about to remove the silver wig he was wearing when he suddenly felt a familiar gaze.

He turned around and saw Zhao Mian sitting on a horse on a nearby sand dune, watching him in silence.

Shen Buqi stood beside Zhao Mian with a blank expression.

The young man, who had been so arrogant just moments before, suddenly felt a little flustered.

He hadn’t told Zhao Mian about his plan to play with and interrogate Huo Kangsheng. How did Zhao Mian get here?

How much did Zhao Mian see? Probably not much, otherwise he would have noticed him earlier. But with Zhao Mian’s intelligence, even if he had only heard a sentence or two, he could probably piece together the whole story.

Wei Zhenfeng composed himself and forced a careless smile. “Why are you looking at me like that? What, does the Crown Prince think I’m too cruel?”

Looking at the same person from different perspectives, one often sees two completely different things.

To Western Xia, Huo Kangsheng was undoubtedly a loyal hero.

To Beiyuan, Huo Kangsheng had killed countless of their people. He was nothing more than a bug, and it was no great loss for him to be tormented to death.

As for what he was in the eyes of the Nanjing people, a villain or a hero, Wei Zhenfeng didn’t know.

While he waited for Zhao Mian’s answer, Wei Zhenfeng was surprised to find that he was a little bit nervous.

Strange. He had always been a free spirit, willing to use any means to achieve his goals. When did I ever care what others thought of me?

After a while, Zhao Mian finally said, “No.”

Wei Zhenfeng secretly breathed a sigh of relief.

“I just think the prince’s white hair has a unique charm,” Zhao Mian praised sincerely. “It surpasses Gu Ruzhang himself.”

The silver hair was the same color as the moonlight, falling over the young man’s shoulders, giving him an otherworldly and ethereal look.

This was a feeling that the black-haired Wei Zhenfeng would never have.

No wonder many of the protagonists in the xianxia stories had white hair; it was indeed beautiful.

Wei Zhenfeng was slightly taken aback, his hand pausing as he was about to remove the white hair. “Oh…” He smiled slowly under the moonlight. “Then I’ll let you look a little longer.”

Zhao Mian was always aware of the saying: “Unusual kindness is a sign of an ill intention.” After admiring it for a moment longer, he said, “It’s beautiful, but no matter how long I look at it, I still don’t want to go to bed with you.”

Wei Zhenfeng choked up, a look of helplessness on his face. “This time, I really wasn’t thinking about that. Believe me.”