When Zhao Mian vomited, the Nanjing party was all shocked.

Wei Zhenfeng, who was closest to him, was too stunned to react immediately. By the time he grabbed his water flask, Zhou Huairang had rushed over, shoving his shoulder and frantically asking, “My lord, what’s wrong? Are you okay? Have some water!”

Zhou Huairang was holding a ladle, and the water inside spilled, splashing all over Wei Zhenfeng’s face.

The Young Prince was about to erupt in anger when he realized the water was warm. He remembered how Shen Buqi had immediately started boiling water after the group stopped to rest, and then left it to cool, likely so the Crown Prince could have water at a comfortable temperature.

Even in such a harsh environment, the people of the Nanjing Crown Prince’s palace were doing their best to “pamper” their prince.

Wei Zhenfeng looked at his own flask, which was full of cold water, and silently withdrew his hand.

Zhao Mian drank the warm water, but the discomfort in his stomach did not subside. He closed his eyes, his brows furrowed, and his face was ashen. He felt a sense of defeat.

If he couldn’t even conquer his own stomach, how could he hope to contend for the world?

Sensing the low pressure emanating around Zhao Mian, Wei Zhenfeng asked tentatively, “Are you feeling nauseous?”

When Zhao Mian was irritated, he hated nothing more than pointless questions.

What’s wrong with Wei Zhenfeng’s brain lately? How could he ask such an obvious question?

“No, I don’t feel nauseous,” Zhao Mian said with a straight face. “My appetite is excellent. I can eat ten flatbreads in one go.”

A camel could have understood the sarcasm in the Crown Prince’s words, let alone Wei Zhenfeng. But he wasn’t in the mood to bicker with Zhao Mian. He asked again, “How long have you been feeling like this?”

Zhao Mian continued his sarcastic streak. “Eighteen years. I’ve been like this since birth.”

Wei Zhenfeng was both surprised and doubtful. “Is that true?”

“Of course not,” Zhao Mian said coldly. “What’s wrong with you, Wei Zhenfeng?”

Wei Zhenfeng was floored. “Do all Nanjing people love sarcasm so much?” He originally wanted to retort, but when he thought about how Zhao Mian wasn’t feeling well, he felt a little reluctant. After a brief struggle, he chose a less offensive approach: “I’m genuinely concerned about you, can you be serious for once—Princess?”

Zhao Mian immediately tightened his grip on his sword hilt. “Insolent!”

Wei Zhenfeng, having enjoyed his moment of verbal satisfaction, immediately apologized, not giving Zhao Mian time to draw his sword: “My mistake, my mistake.”

“…” Zhao Mian paused, weighed his options for a moment, and then released his grip.

In such a critical situation, arguing with Wei Zhenfeng was pointless.

Zhou Huairang, who had been trying to hold it in, finally burst out laughing. “Puhahahaha!” His laughter startled a camel that was chewing on a cactus, causing it to look around nervously.

“My lord is definitely feeling unwell because he’s not used to eating dry rations,” Zhou Huairang said, looking at Wei Zhenfeng with an “are you even capable?” expression. “Even I can see that.”

Zhao Mian shot a glare at Zhou Huairang, and Zhou Huairang immediately shut his mouth.

Wei Zhenfeng listened to Zhou Huairang’s words, seemingly lost in thought: “Is that so?”

I guess I was just overthinking it.

Wei Zhenfeng might not have eaten pork, but he had seen pigs run. There were many women and children in the Beiyuan imperial palace. He remembered that when a concubine became pregnant, it wasn’t discovered right away. It would usually be two or three months later that they would start to feel unwell. When an imperial physician came to examine them, they would congratulate his father, the Emperor, on the happy news.

As for why the Nanjing Emperor would be willing to personally give birth as the Son of Heaven, he had no idea. Was it a tradition of the Nanjing royal family? Was it better for the stability of the throne for the Emperor to have a child with a powerful minister?

Zhao Mian was the Crown Prince, the future Son of Heaven. Could he, like his father, have some ability that ordinary people could not understand?

Counting the days, it had been almost two months since he and Zhao Mian first slept together.

Could it be possible that… Zhao Mian himself didn’t even know?

Could he completely rule out that possibility?

Should he just ask him directly?

No, that’s not a good idea. With Zhao Mian’s temper, if this was a sensitive topic for him, it would surely lead to an argument, a drawn sword, and a summoning for Shen Buqi. They were in the dangerous desert, and internal conflict would not be fun. He would just have to be patient and wait until they returned to get a clear answer.

After the rest, the group set out again.

Shen Buqi led a camel over, and Zhou Huairang adjusted the soft cushions on its back. He was about to help Zhao Mian get on when Wei Zhenfeng stopped him.

Wei Zhenfeng took the Crown Prince from Zhou Huairang’s hands. “I’ll do it.”

Zhao Mian didn’t refuse. Compared to his study companion, he naturally enjoyed being waited on by the Young Prince of Beiyuan more. After all, their dynamic, for the most part, reflected the status of Nanjing and Beiyuan—except in bed.

Zhao Mian regally raised his hand, intending for Wei Zhenfeng to hold his hand to help him mount the camel, which was already obediently kneeling down.

However, Wei Zhenfeng didn’t seem to understand his intention. He wrapped one arm around his waist and the other under his thighs, truly lifting him onto the camel as if he were a princess.

Although this wasn’t the first time Wei Zhenfeng had carried him like this, the previous times were always for the purpose of going to bed, and those didn’t count. For Wei Zhenfeng to do this in front of so many people, where would the face of the Nanjing’s Crown Prince go?

But before he could scold him, Wei Zhenfeng’s hand moved forward, landing on his lower abdomen, and lightly patted it twice.

Zhao Mian looked down at his stomach and said sternly, “What are you doing?”

Since he had been found out, Wei Zhenfeng didn’t bother to hide it anymore.

After spending so much time together, he realized that Zhao Mian, though seemingly unapproachable, didn’t actually get angry that often. If Zhao Mian’s anger could be visualized, a series of provocations would make his anger level rise, but as long as it didn’t exceed his breaking point, his anger level would decrease and even reset after a few humble and subservient gestures from Wei Zhenfeng. This made it much safer to ask him questions that might otherwise lead to a drawn sword.

Wei Zhenfeng estimated that Zhao Mian’s anger level was pretty much reset. He asked, “Has your stomach gotten a little bigger lately?”

Zhao Mian had not been eating or sleeping well for the past few days. He had visibly lost some weight, and his stomach was flatter than before. How could it be bigger?

His frown deepened. “Have your eyes been blinded by the yellow sand—are you blind?”

Wei Zhenfeng thought to himself: Your temper seems to be getting worse too.

Zhao Mian added another jab. “You’re so blind, no wonder you think the dancer in the yellow dress with straight hair is more suitable to be the leader of the desert girl group than the one in the purple dress with curly hair.”

Wei Zhenfeng: “…” When will the Crown Prince’s stubbornness finally give up?

On the fourth day of their journey into the desert, Wu Yuanchang told everyone that they had finished the relatively easy part of the journey. The real challenge was about to begin.

“This is the dividing line,” Wu Yuanchang said, pointing to a wind-eroded rock shaped like Zhou Huairang’s head. It had a mark they had left on it last time. “I’m not completely confident about the rest of the way. The last few times we tried going forward and left, we came back empty-handed.”

Wei Zhenfeng asked for Zhao Mian’s opinion. “So, this time, should we try going right?”

Zhao Mian nodded listlessly.

The Crown Prince’s condition was deteriorating day by day, and today he had reached the point of not speaking unless absolutely necessary.

But seeing him in his scarlet silk robes, his long hair wrapped in a headscarf like a native desert person, the red silk fluttered in the wind. From a distance, he looked like a lingering sunset on the desert.

A closer look would reveal that even though he wasn’t at his best due to his illness, the Crown Prince’s appearance was still more dazzling than the desert sun. However, as he became more and more listless, that dazzling light was also growing dimmer.

Thinking about the unknown dangers they might encounter, Wei Zhenfeng felt a pang of regret. He admitted privately to the Marquis Anyuan and the others, “You were right. I really shouldn’t have brought the Crown Prince to this desert.”

The Marquis Anyuan snorted but said nothing.

Shen Buqi looked solemn, and his usually calm tone carried a hint of anxiety. “The Crown Prince should not have to endure such hardship.”

“What’s the point of regretting it now?” Zhou Huairang interjected sarcastically. “Anyway, the Young Prince always thought that having fun in the Yi ruins was more important than our Highness’ safety.”

Wei Zhenfeng covered his forehead. “That’s enough, that’s enough. I’m wrong.”

The Marquis Anyuan looked up at the sky. “If His Majesty knew that the Crown Prince has only eaten two bites of flatbread these past few days, I can’t imagine how heartbroken he would be.”

“The Prime Minister would be very angry,” Zhou Huairang said. At the thought of Prime Minister Xiao, he shivered in the scorching sun. “Once the Prime Minister gets angry, none of us in the Crown Prince’s Eastern Palace will have a good day.”

Wei Zhenfeng covered his face with his hand. “…Stop talking.”

“Your Highness!”

“I said stop talking, I know I was wrong.”

“No, Your Highness!”! Look!” Ji Chong exclaimed, pointing a trembling finger at the distant horizon. “What is that?”

A huge plume of yellow smoke appeared on the horizon, like a high wall of sand, rolling toward them at an astonishing speed. It grew wider and wider, larger and larger. In the blink of an eye, it was looming over the dunes.

Wu Yuanchang shouted, “It’s a sandstorm! The sandstorm is coming! Run, run! Cover your mouth and nose with a headscarf, find a place to hide…”

Wu Yuanchang’s voice was swallowed by the roaring wind. The gale kicked up the yellow sand, and the flying particles attacked everything on the ground indiscriminately: the plants, the camels, and the people.

Zhao Mian’s vision was filled with a chaotic yellow. He knew Shen Buqi and the others were likely right beside him, but he couldn’t see anything. He remembered Wu Yuanchang’s advice: don’t panic, and don’t call for help, otherwise the yellow sand will rush into your mouth without hesitation.

He should find a place to take shelter from the wind, but he couldn’t see anything and he couldn’t to walk against the wind.

The storm intensified. In the nick of time, he felt his wrist suddenly being grabbed, and a powerful force pulled him steadily in one direction.

That person used his body to block a small portion of the sand for Zhao Mian. Although it was only better than nothing in such a huge storm, it gave the Crown Prince, who was experiencing a natural disaster for the first time, a sense of security.

He wasn’t alone.

His rational mind told Zhao Mian that they couldn’t have gone very far in the sandstorm, yet he felt as if they had been walking for a very long time. Finally, he saw the wind-eroded rock that looked like Zhou Huairang’s head. The person led him to the innermost part of the rock and shielded him,
protecting him from the outside. Zhao Mian’s cheek was pressed against the man’s chest, and he reached out with difficulty, touching the man’s abdominal muscles.

This familiar touch. It must be Wei Zhenfeng.

The yellow sand blotted out the sky and sun. Even though it was noon, the world was as dark as dusk before nightfall. The wind roared, and the sand battered the rock wall, a cacophony of sounds filling his ears. Yet, he could vaguely hear the young man’s heartbeat.

He didn’t know how long they were there, but the wind gradually died down, the gray sky receded, and the scorching sun reappeared above the desert. Everything returned to peace, as if nothing had happened.

Wei Zhenfeng straightened up, not even bothering to stretch his arms,  which were stiff from holding the same position for so long. He looked down at the person in his arms. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Zhao Mian said hoarsely. “Can we go out now?”

Wei Zhenfeng said, “We should be able to.”

The two of them helped each other out from behind the rock. What greeted them was a vast golden expanse. It was as if the world was only them and the rock behind them.

“This is not good,” Wei Zhenfeng said, his tone unusually serious. “It looks like we’ve been separated from the others.”

The sunlight was glaring, and golden dust was floating in the air. Zhao Mian squinted. “What’s even worse is that we’ve been separated from the camels.”

Their water, food, and clothes were all on the camels. Finding the others was one thing, but if they couldn’t find the camels, he and Wei Zhenfeng could only last for two days at most in the desert.

Wei Zhenfeng said, “Let’s look around.”

Logically, the others should be nearby. But the problem was that after the storm, the others would also be trying to find people. In this vast desert, with no landmarks, taking a few extra steps could make them get lost and never return to their starting point.

People like the Marquis Anyuan and Shen Buqi wouldn’t just wait around. The moment the storm passed, they would immediately start looking for the Crown Prince. On the other hand, Zhou Huairang, with the self-awareness that he would get lost on his own, would have stayed put with a fully loaded camel.

And so, after half an hour of searching, Zhao Mian and Wei Zhenfeng found Zhou Huairang first.

When Zhou Huairang saw Zhao Mian, he was almost crying with joy. “Your Highness—”

When Wei Zhenfeng saw the fully loaded camel, he let out a sigh of relief.

They could live. Zhao Mian, himself, Zhou Huairang, and… a certain little one whose existence was temporarily uncertain.

Zhao Mian asked Zhou Huairang, “Have you seen anyone else?”

Zhou Huairang shook his head, his eyes full of tears. “No, Your Highness. When the sandstorm came, I just clung to the camel’s leg and buried myself in the sand… Your Highness, I really thought I was going to suffocate and never see you again…”

Zhao Mian looked at the bags on the camel’s back, which were just enough for three people. He praised him sincerely. “You did well.”

“It would have been even better if you had also managed to hold onto Wu Yuanchang,” Wei Zhenfeng said. “Without him, we have no idea if we can figure out our direction.”

Zhou Huairang said, “Your Highness, should we split up to find the others?”

“No,” Zhao Mian said without a thought. “The three of us absolutely cannot split up. We must stay in one place at all times.”

Zhou Huairang seemed to have realized something. He counted on his fingers and then his face turned red. He asked, “Absolutely cannot split up?”

Zhao Mian hummed in agreement. Considering Zhou Huairang’s mind, he suspected that even if he told him to just follow him from a distance, Zhou Huairang would probably get lost. So he emphasized, “You hold onto the camel and stay close to us. The distance between you and the prince and me must not exceed three steps. Not even when we’re sleeping. Understand?”

“I understand… But what if we don’t get out of here before the fifteenth? What will I do?” Zhou Huairang asked nervously. “Maybe… I’ll just knock myself out?”

Zhao Mian: “…”

Wei Zhenfeng: “…”

Author’s note:

Mianmian: What’s the difference between having to go to bed at a fixed time and clocking in for work?