Song Qingshu had some impression of Jila Siyi. In history, he had been a famed general in the final years of Western Xia, repeatedly blunting the Mongol Empire's offensive beneath Guazhou City. Yet in the end, outnumbered and outmatched, he had still died heroically in battle.
Did the appearance of such a figure truly mean that Western Xia was about to fall?
Song Qingshu felt rather heavy-hearted. He had long anticipated this day and had plans of his own, but he had no certainty they would succeed. The road ahead still left him deeply lost.
When she heard that he had decided to change course and head east for Shazhou, Yuan Ziyi froze. "Aren't we going to save Kasili?"
Logically, the people escorting Kasili were most likely heading north, while Shazhou lay all the way to the east.
Song Qingshu replied, "Temujin is heading east now. Even if their party goes north and crosses the Tianshan Mountains, they will ultimately have to head toward Shazhou. Rather than chase after them from behind, we might as well go to Guazhou first. We may even arrive before them."
After hearing him out, Yuan Ziyi also found it reasonable. The two of them then headed east, traveling along the oases lining the Tarim River.
They raced onward for several days before arriving in an exceptionally scorching region. Even Song Qingshu, with his profound cultivation, felt as though his entire body was about to melt from the heat.
Yuan Ziyi was in even worse shape, swaying as though she might collapse at any moment.
The two had no choice but to shelter beneath the shade of a tree on the shadowed side of a sand dune. Song Qingshu handed Yuan Ziyi a waterskin. "Are you feeling better?"
Yuan Ziyi took several huge gulps before