Chapter 73

Cold moon and mournful horns, ten thousand miles of western wind across the vast sea of sand.

The underground regime, the mirage city, the sand worms—players had originally dismissed them all as mere legends. Now, they realized these things might very well be real. Panic-stricken, they fled in all directions without a second thought. That level 70 venomous scorpion was far more than two meters long; with its massive tail raised high, it stood at least five or six meters tall, no exaggeration.

“Aaahhh!” The players bolted like lightning.

“The scorpion’s catching up! With Five-Colored Mottled Black gone, why don’t we just sacrifice Linghu Big Bro? He’s level 42, with thick health and high damage output—he should be able to tank at least two hits from it. One sacrifice for the good of the whole team—”

“Sounds good!” The other players agreed enthusiastically, spurring their horses onward without slowing a bit.

“?” Linghu Xiao rode up just in time to catch that display of plastic brotherhood, and he couldn’t help but rage. “Bullshit! You bunch of animals!”

The other players were utterly shameless about it. “What’s wrong with sacrificing the top player at a time like this? You expect us casual players to go toe-to-toe with that thing in PvP?”

“Top player to the heavens—limitless power!”

“Linghu Big Bro, show some team spirit. Once we find Zongzong, we’ll put in a good word for you. Who knows? You might even recover that lost favorability you burned through before.”

Linghu Xiao paused at that last bit, thinking it had potential. For a moment, he was ready to charge into battle with the tragic heroism of “the winds howl as they rise from the easy waters cold,” facing down the level 70 scorpion.

But he quickly changed his mind. He unleashed a skill on the scorpion, only for it to feel like a light scratch—barely tickling it. The beast’s health dropped a measly 0.01%.

Linghu Xiao decisively announced, “I’m out!”

Even the top player fled at full speed.

Fortunately, the sand was soft and sinking, hampering the scorpion’s bulky frame. The players had maxed out their escape skill talents, allowing them to pull away from the aggro circle soon enough and catch a brief moment to breathe.

But the ordeal wasn’t over. One player suddenly shouted in a daze, “Guys, look!”

Everyone raised their heads. In the sky, a city had risen—a distant silhouette formed by clustered palaces and towers, tumbling through a roiling sea of clouds like raging waves. Amid the illusory mirage, faint visions flickered: carriages with ornate canopies, figures accompanying them. The players were dumbfounded. “???”

“Does that mean there really are immortals???”

Meanwhile, Ruan Xuezong was still rummaging through the ruins when a massive gray wolf burst from behind a sand dune. The beast bared razor-sharp fangs, its green eyes glaring viciously at the man before it, as if viewing him as an intruder ready to be torn apart at any moment.

A red name hovered above it: “Desert Gray Wolf, Level 70.”

Five-Colored Mottled Black froze in terror. “Holy shit! A level 70 elite wild mob!” This Western Regions was way too horrifying—why were terrifying critters everywhere? He was the only player with Ruan Xuezong, and he instinctively positioned himself in front, ready to sacrifice himself.

This wolf was dangerous.

Ruan Xuezong frowned slightly. Noticing a detail, he stopped Five-Colored Mottled Black from charging forward. “Hold on. That wolf has a necklace of teeth around its neck. It must have an owner.”

Sure enough, a man in a conical hat soon emerged from the windblown sands. The sand wolf padded obediently to his side, its ferocious hunger replaced by the loyalty of a well-trained hound.

The man wore his robe open wide at the chest, revealing chiseled muscles. A long scar across his face gave him a fierce, demonic glare. A wolf pelt draped his shoulders. It was none other than Shi Yan.

Five-Colored Mottled Black exclaimed, “Zongzong, that’s the NPC I need to turn in the quest to!”

Ruan Xuezong sized him up discreetly, judging the man to be a true powerhouse.

Shi Yan’s eyes filled with scrutiny upon spotting Ruan Xuezong.

He addressed Five-Colored Mottled Black first. “You’re the Rivers and Lakes wanderer I hired. Where’s the man I asked for? Why isn’t he here? And who are these two?”

Mentioning it soured Five-Colored Mottled Black’s mood. He slowly pulled an elderly finger from his inventory, saying nervously, “Sorry, buddy. I found him in Chasang, but by then… this was all that was left.”

【Item Description: Fragrant grasses lush, dark weeds stained with blood—an elder long buried beneath the earth…】

Upon seeing the bloody, withered finger, Shi Yan’s pupils contracted sharply, as if a needle had stabbed his eyes. His hands trembled as he took the severed digit, his gaze brimming with agony. His voice rasped, “He died for me…”

【Ding! Chance encounter quest ‘Finding Person Chronicle Sequel’ completed.】

What a heartbreaking quest.

Five-Colored Mottled Black’s heart twinged.

Even a powerhouse wouldn’t wallow in grief forever. The man soon composed himself and clasped his fists. “Thank you all for your help. But Shi Yan is a vagrant with nothing to offer but money.”

“We don’t want money. Just take us in,” Ruan Xuezong said, immediately drawing the man’s full attention.

Deep furrows creased the man’s brow. The scar slashing across half his face made his features look even more murderous under the motion, his eyes brimming with wariness. “What are you talking about?”

“You’re the leader of the Banishment Land, aren’t you? Please take us in. We’re homeless,” Ruan Xuezong pressed, pushing the bewildered Wu Yao forward. “My little brother here was blinded by evildoers since childhood, his hair turned white prematurely. Recently, he was bitten on the leg by a venomous snake they unleashed. He can’t stay in his homeland anymore. If Leader Shi doesn’t shelter him, he won’t survive the night.”

It was a blatant sob story.

Wu Yao was thrust forward, his golden pupils meeting Shi Yan’s in blank confusion.

As the pampered Holy Son of a nation, he lacked Ruan Xuezong’s martial prowess to traverse the great desert unscathed. After days of flight through the sands, the youth was covered in grime, looking every bit the ragged fugitive from the Western Regions. The pitiful act was pitch-perfect.

Shi Yan’s wealth of life experience told him Ruan Xuezong spoke the truth.

The snakebite scars on the youth’s leg hadn’t healed, crisscrossed with fresh scrapes from the desert trek. Any hothouse flower escaping into the sands would wither in time.

Shi Yan fell silent, his vigilant gaze unchanging. “He’s pitiful, sure—but he’s no brother of yours! You have the face of a Central Plains man, and you’re clearly a martial expert. No resemblance at all. Why put on this brotherly act before me? I can tell your motives aren’t pure!”

His face was frosty as he spoke, his tone razor-sharp.

“You’re right—my motives aren’t pure. I’m here for the legendary treasure of the Western Regions,” Ruan Xuezong admitted bluntly, then pressed his advantage with a strategic retreat. “If Leader Shi won’t take us, then at least shelter him alone. We Rivers and Lakes wanderers are used to the wind and rain. A place to sleep doesn’t matter. But my brother needs protection.”

Ruan Xuezong noted how the man’s expression softened at the mention of treasure.

Wu Yao’s face froze for a moment. He clutched Ruan Xuezong’s sleeve anxiously. “Agu Ling, you’re abandoning me here?”

“Yes. You can’t survive the great desert,” Ruan Xuezong said, patting his shoulder earnestly.

“The desert isn’t so scary. There are plenty of oases. As long as you don’t mind me being a burden, I can make it! I can learn desert-walking martial arts and lightness skills right now!” The youth’s snow-white lashes fluttered, his parched pale lips pressing thin. His golden eyes were unfocused, hazy, yet they betrayed his raw fear. “Anyway, I don’t want to be left here alone.”

Ruan Xuezong’s reasoning had been only half-convincing before, but Wu Yao’s plea bumped it up to seventy or eighty percent.

The man couldn’t stand it anymore. He said coldly, “For helping me find him, I’ll shelter you. But… if you’re chasing that elusive treasure, you’ll leave empty-handed.”

As an underground force, the Banishment Land had seen countless Central Plains folk with treasure maps try to infiltrate—and fail.

Shi Yan had lived long in this region of the Western Regions; he’d seen it all.

Ruan Xuezong’s group slipped in successfully.

Led by a guide, he finally realized that beneath this charred ruin of a town lay a grand underground city. Descending stone steps carpeted in deep red, an ancient citadel came into view. Its carved beams and painted rafters were wondrously exotic, walls adorned with reliefs of gods and Buddhas from the heavens—auspicious clouds swirling, divine birds soaring. Time had peeled away much of the paint, but even in decay, one could imagine its former glory: a thriving nation, murals of breathtaking splendor.

“Is this architecture from some ancient desert kingdom?” Ruan Xuezong wondered aloud.

Shi Yan replied, “You Central Plains folk do know your stuff.” The desert hid countless wonders—shifted riverbeds burying thousands of ships, even toppling minor nations whose cities crumbled to dust.

Seeing Shi Yan lead newcomers in, a woman with a stern face approached from the palace, draped in similar wolf pelt.

Ruan Xuezong guessed she held high status, for she immediately laid into Shi Yan. “Don’t you know the situation lately? And you still bring strangers back?”

“They’re no suspects—they’re the Rivers and Lakes wanderers I hired. They brought back Old An’s remains.” Shi Yan’s voice cracked painfully as he produced the finger, eliciting a gasp from the woman.

Her face darkened with sorrow. She comforted him in turn. “Old An chose to die for you. Don’t grieve too much.”

Having soothed the leader, she turned her dissatisfied gaze on the group. “They brought back Old An’s finger—you thanked them, fine. But why drag them here too? When will you stop picking up strays everywhere?”

The desert woman’s bold frankness shone through.

Shi Yan said, “Feishuang, haven’t I been doing this for ten years? You and Old An understood my vision best: building this underground city in the Exile Land to shelter war refugees and the homeless. We support each other, fight to survive. How many have I saved from Western Regions bandits and horse thieves over the years—including you and Old An? You’ve agreed with me before.”

He hesitated, then added, “…Why’s your temper getting worse lately?”

Those words ignited her like a fuse. Yan Feishuang suddenly shrieked hysterically, “Because things are different now!” Stunned by her own outburst, she faltered, clutching her wolf pelt tighter.

Shi Yan frowned. “Different how? The underground city’s output is stable now. Everyone’s working the fields, days are getting better—far from the nothing we had before.”

Yan Feishuang fell silent.

Ruan Xuezong stood by.

He noticed her cold eyes pause on his face, flashing with admiration and appraisal before deepening into profound thought.

Shi Yan soothed her again. Yan Feishuang seemed to swallow a thousand words, reducing them to a soft sigh. “You’re right. This is our Peach Blossom Paradise. We should unite, not bicker pointlessly. But not again— this is the last time.”

The two leaders reconciled.

Five-Colored Mottled Black, as a player, watched the underground city cutscene unfold in bewilderment. He couldn’t fathom why this couple had argued—or made up.

Ruan Xuezong’s gaze drifted to the nearest Buddha statue on the wall. Three meters tall, its unpeeled colors vivid, the figure’s full-cheeked face beamed with compassionate eyes, as if piercing all the joys and sorrows of the world.