"Have some faith in the State Preceptor." He Lingchuan jerked his chin toward Sun Fuping. "The dignified State Preceptor is even braving danger himself. The least we can do is have a little confidence, right?"
Sun and Nian walked at the very front, far ahead of He Lingchuan, with more than ten rows of soldiers between them.
They didn't take this newly joined band of outlaws seriously at all.
Situ Han watched their backs. "If I speak, can they hear me?"
"Don't worry, they definitely can't." He Lingchuan couldn't even remember how many times he'd bad-mouthed those two before.
Only then did Situ Han lower his voice. "Those two are truly arrogant. If we run into danger in the desert, they probably won't give a damn whether we live or die. Young Master He, for the sake of our New Year visits, you have to look after us brothers. There are more than thirty of us out here making a living, and back on Mang Mountain we have over a hundred women and children in our families! If we die, they won't even have porridge to drink."
Though he called killing and robbing "making a living," he looked perfectly sincere.
His worries were written all over his face.
"I know." He Lingchuan comforted him. "I'll keep an eye on you and make sure they don't send you to your deaths for nothing."
Once he had walked away, He Chunhua asked his eldest son, "What did he mean by 'for the sake of our New Year visits'?"
"Doesn't he come to pay us a New Year's visit every year?" More importantly, every New Year, Situ Han prepared a particularly generous gift for Young Master He. Last year, for instance, he'd given He Lingchuan a string of pearl necklaces, each pearl almost exactly the same size, perfectly round and lustrous.
Right, it was the very same string He Lingchuan had given to Uncle Hao.
What had Situ Han given him the year before? Hmm, he couldn't remember.
Of course, there was no need to tell his father about such trivial things.
He Chunhua shook his head at him. The little brat might be reckless, but he never turned down a gift.
Blackwater City, He Residence.
Though only two people remained at home, Madam Ying still told the kitchen to prepare an elaborate meal. They served seven dishes in all, making it an even more sumptuous spread than usual.
But she had little appetite. She drank less than half a bowl of yellow millet porridge and only took two bites of the flower roll He Yue had placed in her bowl before setting down her chopsticks.
"Yue'er, where do you think your father has reached by now?" He Chunhua's departure was as if he'd taken her soul with him. Madam Ying couldn't sleep at night, and not even her exquisite makeup could hide her weariness.
"He should have passed a few relay stations by now." He Yue tried to comfort her. "Zeng Feixiong knows the desert, and the State Preceptor is there to keep things in hand. Father and my elder brother will surely return before the Furious Sand Season begins."
Madam Ying sighed. "They say your elder brother is a lucky star. This time, he really needs all the luck he can get."
He Yue found it strange. Did his mother not blame his father for taking his elder brother along?
Madam Ying asked him about some matters in Qiansong Prefecture, and He Yue told her he could handle them.
At last, she asked, "Still no news from the east?"
"None. Flooding has blocked the roads, and there's fierce fighting in the east. The rebels behead any spies they catch, so even couriers don't dare go there."
Even without his father reminding him again and again, he would have kept an eye on intelligence from the east.
Unfortunately, there was still not a trace of news.
By the next day, yellow sand stretched in every direction—above and below, ahead and behind. They couldn't see a single living thing.
This short stretch of Red Cliff Road led toward the long-abandoned Ancient Coiling Dragon City. No caravan would ever travel that way.
Everyone cherished each step, because even this smooth road was about to end.
"The road ends here," came word from the front of the procession.
The He father and son looked east. They could still see the massive base of half a mountain, slanting upward like a dagger thrust into the sky.
As for the upper half, it had collapsed with a crash nearly a hundred years ago, crushing the Red Cliff Road along which the procession should have continued.
The endless heaps of rock had turned it into a dead end.
Zeng Feixiong murmured, "I wonder if this is Heaven's will." Perhaps it didn't want later generations disturbing the heroic spirits sleeping in the city.
"Why indulge in so much wishful thinking?" Nian Songyu sneered, then ordered everyone, "Dismount. We need to lighten our load."
There was no road ahead, and the horses would be no use. Everyone was to prepare five days' worth of food and water, while several army cooks took charge of the horses.
Situ Han stared at the boundless desert.
The rolling dunes were spotless and pristine, without even half a footprint.
"What do we do next? If we step even one pace off Red Cliff Road, we'll be swallowed up!"
"Of course we won't. Aren't you desert bandits the ones who know best?" Nian Songyu shut him down with a single sentence.
Situ Han gave an awkward smile. Having spent most of his life making a living in the Coiling Dragon Desert, he knew its local taboos all too well. He had his own little tricks and hard-won experience, too.
Nian Songyu gestured at the desert. "Tell us, then. With Red Cliff Road gone, how should we proceed? I imagine you have some experience."
"First, all you officials should put away your State Decrees. Don't show them, and whatever you do, don't activate them!" There were quite a few officials in the group.
Nian Songyu gave a quiet "Oh." "Why?"
"The heroic spirits in the desert spent their lives defending their homeland's borders. If we go in carrying another nation's State Decrees, wouldn't that be like deliberately planting a flag and drawing their hatred? Those things are as stubborn as mules. Avoid them if you can, and whatever you do, don't provoke them!"
That made sense. Sun Fuping instructed the officials, "Put away your Kite Coins. Don't let them show."
Then Situ Han said, "Are we going to Ancient Coiling Dragon City? It's still a long way off, and we could never get there on foot. I'm afraid I can't help with that."
Desert bandits ventured into the desert mostly to evade pursuit or escape blood feuds, out of temporary necessity. They wouldn't go hiking through a place of certain death for no reason. That would be asking to die.
"So we'll need a different mode of transport." Sun Fuping took three objects from his robes.
They were three miniature boats, each about an inch long, seemingly carved from half a walnut. The craftsmanship was exquisite. Not only were the wood grains along their rails visible, but even the folds in the boatmen's clothes and their windswept strands of hair had been rendered with remarkable delicacy.
The carving alone was worthy of a master.
"These are treasures I borrowed from a friend. I have to return them after we're done. All right, everyone, stand back!" Sun Fuping took out three translucent green pellets and placed one in the raised right hand of the boatman on each vessel. Then he tossed the three walnut-sized boats onto the sand.
Nian Songyu cried out, "Mystic Crystals!"
Each green pellet was about the size of a quail's egg. Tossed into the boats, they looked as if they might topple the little walnut vessels. But the opposite happened. The moment each pellet touched the boatman's hand, it vanished, and the whole boat began to quiver strangely, as though something were about to burst out.
No one was foolish enough to stay close. They had already backed away.
Sure enough, the walnut boats expanded at an astonishing speed, growing several times larger. In just two breaths, each one-inch toy had become a wooden ship more than five zhang long and one zhang high!
They came to rest on the yellow sand. The walnut boats had simply been enlarged in their original proportions, and the boatmen standing at their bows had grown to the size of ordinary people. They walked over and lowered the gangplanks so the passengers could board.
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