There was no moon over the desert that night. Thick, dark clouds shrouded the heavens, looming overhead as though they might fall at any moment.
The party wandered aimlessly through the desert, their long trek having reduced their steps to a weary stagger.
Standing atop his flying sword, Feng Shande looked relaxed, entirely unaffected.
Including Ning Yuanzhou, there were only three people from Great Li in the party.
The people of Great Li and the Mara People differed considerably in appearance.
Thus, Ning Que and Ning Yuanzhou soon found themselves walking together.
Ning Que studied him closely. Compared with his wanted portrait, Ning Yuanzhou looked even more handsome and distinguished.
His features were sharply defined, and despite all the torment he had endured, his eyes remained bright.
The years had left no marks on his face. Instead, they had lent him something of an immortal sage's bearing.
Yi Tao, meanwhile, greatly admired Ning Yuanzhou and kept asking whether Flowing Sand could really overturn the foundations of the Great Li Dynasty.
In response, Ning Yuanzhou merely smiled faintly and said gently, "It will. These troubled times will come to an end."
He had always worked toward that goal.
It was also the sole conviction he had clung to through countless tortures.
And Ning Que could feel that conviction.
As though noticing Ning Que's gaze, Ning Yuanzhou studied him. "Young brother, have we met somewhere before?"
In truth, Ning Yuanzhou had been watching Ning Que for quite some time.
First, he did not look like a prisoner.
An ordinary prisoner would surely be terrified after learning that he was being used as cannon fodder for the journey into the desert.
At the very least, he would look panicked, as though facing a formidable enemy.
But Ning Que was different.
His clothes were