Tan Hua - Chapter 65

Song Liqing, overwhelmed with emotion and exposed to the cold wind, began to cough violently until the taste of blood filled his throat.

 

Jun Qiyu stepped forward to pat his back, but Song Liqing pushed his hand away.

 

“Don’t touch me.”

 

Song Liqing weakly collapsed onto the sand, lying down as the cold seeped into his body. The howling wind and sand whistled past his ears. In his current feeble state, who could he hate?

 

“Liqing…”

 

Jun Qiyu lifted him up, leaning him against the belly of their Akhal-Teke horse, and sat down beside him.

 

He broke off a small piece of flatbread and brought it to Song Liqing’s lips, but Song Liqing turned his head away.

 

“You need to save your strength to hate me. You can’t do that if you don’t eat,” Jun Qiyu said softly.

 

Song Liqing kept his mouth shut.

 

Jun Qiyu sighed, “If you don’t eat, I’ll feed you mouth to mouth.”

 

Song Liqing took a deep breath—this was something Jun Qiyu was absolutely capable of doing.

 

To avoid any mischief, Song Liqing drank some water and ate the flatbread on his own.

 

“That’s better.”

 

Jun Qiyu watched him finish eating and swallowed hard.

 

In truth, they were down to their last bit of food and water.

 

Jun Qiyu had entered the desert with a do-or-die mentality. Beyond this desert lay the Tianshan Mountains, the sacred mountain of the people of the Western Regions. His investigation had revealed that the last sighting of the blood-tonic herb, *Cistanche*, was at the foot of this mountain.

 

From his knowledge of the Western Regions, they could reach the mountain in about two days, and the remaining food and water would be just enough for Song Liqing. He could go without food for two days.

 

Once they reached Silimu Lake at the base of the sacred mountain, where the land was lush and green, he could hunt for wild game.

 

Song Liqing, having filled his stomach a little, was still too weak for such a grueling journey and quickly fell asleep.

 

Jun Qiyu lay down beside him, holding Song Liqing close to him to keep him warm under his cloak, the two of them snuggling up to their horse for warmth.

 

In the desert, while there was no snow or ice, the nights were bitterly cold, and the wind was as sharp as a blade. Jun Qiyu kept adding dry wood to the fire every hour, enduring the long, harsh night.

 

The next day, Song Liqing was awakened by the sound of voices and the jingling of bells. Instinctively, he tried to get up, but Jun Qiyu pushed him down, covering his mouth.

 

“Shh—” Jun Qiyu whispered hoarsely in his ear. “It’s bandits.”

 

After speaking, Jun Qiyu kicked some yellow sand over the remnants of the campfire, covering most of the smoke and ash.

 

On the other side of the sand dune, a caravan of camels passed by. At first, Jun Qiyu thought it was Pei Xingxu’s soldiers, but after a closer look, he realized these men were not wearing Loulan’s uniforms.

 

Studying them carefully, Jun Qiyu saw that they couldn’t be a merchant caravan either, as they had no goods—just some cattle and sheep—and were driving a few slaves forward. These men carried weapons, looking fierce and vicious, likely involved in robbery and murder.

 

Bandits were common in the Western Regions, and Jun Qiyu had encountered them before. They were just ragtag groups, not enough to stand against Jingguo’s iron cavalry, so he never paid them much mind.

 

Hidden behind the sand dune, Jun Qiyu observed the bandits’ movements. Their leader was a young boy with yellowish hair, blue eyes, and pale skin. His hands were adorned with gem-studded rings, which glittered even from ten zhang away.

 

The bandit leader, sitting arrogantly on a camel in the center, suddenly looked toward where Jun Qiyu and Song Liqing were hiding.

 

Jun Qiyu knew something was wrong.

 

“Go!”

 

He helped Song Liqing onto the horse, and they galloped away at full speed.

 

Sure enough, the bandits had spotted them and began yelling, chasing after them.

 

While camels are resilient and can traverse deserts with ease, they aren’t fast runners. After Jun Qiyu took down two mounted bandits with a few swift strikes, they sped off, leaving the bandits far behind.

 

However, the pursuit had caused them to stray from their path toward the sacred mountain.

 

Worse still, the bandits were relentless. Jun Qiyu couldn’t afford to stop, and for two days and nights, they were constantly on the run, gradually losing their way in the vast desert.

 

By now, their food and water were completely gone. Song Liqing’s condition deteriorated, and he spent more time unconscious than awake.

 

Jun Qiyu grew increasingly anxious. If they couldn’t shake off the bandits, they would be worn out and die in the desert.

 

The bandits weren’t stupid either. Realizing they couldn’t catch up right away and seeing that their quarry only had one horse, they decided to trail them at a distance, like vultures waiting for their prey to drop from exhaustion.

 

Even Jun Qiyu, strong as he was, began to weaken after two days without food or water. The sword that usually felt light in his hand now weighed a thousand pounds.

 

When night fell, Jun Qiyu dared not light a fire. They could only brace themselves against the biting cold and the sandstorm.

 

“Liqing.”

 

Song Liqing had always been physically weak and frail. After enduring long periods of hunger, cold, and exhaustion, his illness had worsened. His lips were dry, his face was pale, and his pulse was faint.

 

With his eyes closed, his lashes gently trembled, and his lips murmured faintly. It was clear that he was too weak to wake up and speak.

 

“Liqing!”

 

Jun Qiyu panicked. If Song Liqing didn’t get some food and drink soon, he would never make it out of the desert alive.

 

Jun Qiyu finally regretted his rashness. He had thought that barring any accidents, they could pass through the desert smoothly and reach the foot of the sacred mountain. But then they had encountered bandits, disrupting all their plans.

 

“Liqing, can you hear me? Don’t fall asleep, I…”

 

Jun Qiyu gritted his teeth and stood up.

 

He walked toward his Akhal-Teke horse.

 

The Akhal-Teke horse was one of the finest in the world, and this one in particular was an outstanding steed, chosen from hundreds.

 

When Jun Qiyu first arrived in the Western Regions, this horse had been only two months old, a foal. Jun Qiyu had personally raised it. The horse had accompanied him through countless battles, surviving life-or-death situations on the battlefield.

 

To a soldier, a warhorse was like a brother who lived and died with them.

 

So Jun Qiyu treated it exceptionally well. Whenever he had time, he would personally bathe it, brush its coat, and deworm it. The Akhal-Teke was highly intelligent and would never recognize another master.

 

Jun Qiyu stroked the horse’s mane.

 

Lately, the Akhal-Teke had lost a lot of weight, its ribs visible, and its coat was no longer sleek, turning dry and scraggly.

 

“How many years have you been with me?”

 

Jun Qiyu murmured. The horse’s dark, bright eyes blinked, and it snorted, as if responding.

 

Jun Qiyu untied its reins and removed its saddle, freeing the horse of all its burdens.

 

“Go on.”

 

Jun Qiyu discarded all the horse’s gear.

 

“If you’re not carrying us, you can definitely make it out of the desert.”

 

The Akhal-Teke seemed to understand, pacing on the spot.

 

“Go!” Jun Qiyu shouted. “If you don’t go, you’ll die, you fool! Go!!”

 

The horse pressed its head against Jun Qiyu’s shoulder, just like when they used to play strength games when it was younger.

 

Jun Qiyu’s lips trembled. He pushed the horse away.

 

“Get lost!”

 

Jun Qiyu returned to Song Liqing’s side, refusing to look back.

 

The Akhal-Teke understood his command and slowly walked away, turning its head every few steps until it disappeared into the darkness.

 

When Jun Qiyu could no longer see the horse, he breathed a sigh of relief.

 

But less than a quarter of an hour later, the Akhal-Teke reappeared in the swirling sands. It had returned, coming to stand beside Jun Qiyu again.

 

It pressed its head against his shoulder, playfully nudging him, just like before.

 

This was its way of showing affection toward Jun Qiyu.

 

“You’ve already left. Why did you come back?! Why did you come back? Why…”

 

Jun Qiyu whispered, his hand trembling as he raised his knife.

 

At some point, the blade had become as heavy as a mountain.

 

In the desolate desert, a horse’s mournful cry echoed far into the distance.

 

A single drop of blood slid from the tip of the blade, landing in the sand, where it was immediately absorbed.

 

Then, a torrent of blood gushed from the Akhal-Teke’s neck. The horse’s dark, bright eyes gazed at Jun Qiyu, without blame or hatred. Even as it collapsed, its gaze never left him.

 

The man to whom it had devoted its entire life, as both master and companion.

 

The horse fell to the ground, its breath quickening, then suddenly stopped.

 

Jun Qiyu knelt on the ground, his eyes bloodshot.

 

The blood filled the water pouch, but a part of his heart had been torn away.

 

“Liqing, water… there’s water now. Drink a little.”

 

Jun Qiyu brought the horse’s blood to Song Liqing’s lips. Song Liqing, still semi-conscious, swallowed a few times before gagging and retching.

 

Jun Qiyu tilted his head back, suppressing his own nausea, and swallowed large gulps of the horse’s blood.

 

He wiped the blood from his mouth, cut some meat from the horse, roasted it, and packed it into his bag.

 

He hoisted Song Liqing onto his back, securing him with cloth strips, then grabbed the bag and walked into the howling night.

 

The wind and sand were fierce. Before long, the ashes and the Akhal-Teke’s body would be buried.

 

Everything returned to the desert’s ancient, unchanging cruelty.

 

Jun Qiyu trudged forward, each step leaving a deep imprint in the sand, though there was no path ahead. He couldn’t even see where he was going, his strength almost gone.

 

For the first time, Jun Qiyu felt helpless against the wild forces of nature.

 

He realized that he wasn’t invincible. The overwhelming love and boundless praise had blinded him. He was just a mortal, made of flesh and blood, no different from anyone else.

 

“Jun Qiyu.”

 

Song Liqing woke up on Jun Qiyu’s back.

 

“Liqing.” Jun Qiyu’s parched lips twitched. “Are you going to scold me? Scold me for being so stupid, dragging you down…”

 

Song Liqing had been unconscious most of the time, but now he was fully awake.

 

In truth, his worsening condition had little to do with Jun Qiyu. He knew his own body well.

 

Since their time at the Qilin Manor, his body had been hollowed out by illness, long past its prime.

 

Even if Jun Qiyu hadn’t brought him into the desert, he wouldn’t have survived this winter.

 

“Put me down.”

 

Jun Qiyu obeyed.

 

Song Liqing sat on a sand dune, gazing into the distant horizon.

 

“Liqing, don’t worry. We still have food and water. We’ll make it out of here. Didn’t you want to see Silimu Lake? It’s right at the foot of the sacred mountain. We’re almost there.”

 

Jun Qiyu opened the water pouch.

 

Song Liqing smelled the metallic scent of blood, but his extreme thirst drove him to drink it.

 

“So bloody…”

 

Song Liqing frowned.

 

“There’s… a bit of a taste,” Jun Qiyu said, screwing the cap back on. “Maybe it’s gone bad after two days.”

 

Song Liqing turned to look at Jun Qiyu’s blurry silhouette, feeling conflicted.

 

What kind of person was he, really?

 

Sentimental? He could kill the horse that had been with him for so many years with his own hands.

 

Cold-hearted? He could have easily saved himself, but he chose to accompany him into this death trap.