Wild Wasteland Wind and Sand Cover the Setting Sun, Heroes Hide Their Shadows and Conceal Themselves in the Desolate Hills

The wilderness stretched boundlessly.

Heading northeast from Xianyang, past Liyang, the fertile fields of the Guanzhong Plain gradually gave way to rolling loess plateaus.

The imperial road had been built ruler-straight here, like a long sword cleaving this desolate land from west to east.

On either side lay vast expanses of gravelly ground and withered yellow grass, growing in sparse clumps like a scabby man's hair, unable to cover the yellow earth beneath.

Farther on, even the grass grew scarce.

A north wind swept in, carrying fine sand that scraped across the face like sandpaper.

The sun hung overhead, slightly westward, bleaching the entire wilderness white. The air carried a dry smell mixed with dust and dead grass roots, so choking it tightened the throat.

There was no village ahead, no inn behind.

The nearest relay station lay forty li west and sixty li east.

The land on both sides of the imperial road was low and flat, with an open view stretching more than ten li at a glance. Aside from the occasional crooked old locust tree, there was nothing.

It looked entirely undefended.

Nor did it seem worth ambushing.

Yet at that moment, a dozen or so men rode up beside a depression by the imperial road.

They had not arrived together.

Instead, they came one after another from different directions, spreading out in a staggered pattern like chess pieces scattered across sand.

Every one of them cautiously surveyed all directions.

Their gazes were steady and sharp.

After some time, the dozen men spread even farther out. Once they had inspected every direction, they gathered again.

At the center of the depression, several men formed a circle and squatted on the ground.

The leader was around forty, broad and powerfully built. Even squatting there, he stood half a