Zhao Feng crouched down and examined the marks on the stone. The dark stain had already dried, but traces of dark red powder remained along its edges. He rubbed some between his fingers and held it beneath his nose. There was no obvious bloody smell, but in this hot, dry climate, blood would lose its moisture within a few hours and take on this rustlike odor.
"It must have been left by their wounded after our earlier pursuit. They're watching us." Zhao Feng set the stone back on the ground and rose, his gaze settling on the dusk to the northwest. "The cooking pits weren't large. At most, thirty to fifty people could have stayed the night. They don't need to engage us head-on. They only need to follow us, watch how far we get, and send that information back."
Helan Tie's brow furrowed even deeper. "But I believe they must have another move waiting for us." He surveyed the terrain around the camp. Gentle slopes surrounded this low-lying ground, leaving open sightlines and no cover.
Zhao Feng nodded slightly, his gaze sweeping over the soldiers busy pitching tents and lighting fires. Patrols had already been doubled, extra guards had been posted around the water and grain wagons, Xie Qiu and Mu Xingze were taking turns on night duty, and men patrolled constantly between the campfires. He said nothing more, only telling Helan Tie, "Let your cavalry eat first. Have them stay sharp tonight."
Helan Tie left to carry out his orders.
After nightfall, the temperature on the Gobi dropped even more sharply than it had in recent days. Wind blew from the north, carrying the chill of the ice fields and fine grains of sand. They struck the tent canvas with a faint, incessant rustling, like countless tiny insects