The old things I repaired have become fine

Chapter 608 Shen Le: I've never suffered like this in my life!

It seems that Khotan cannot be defended.

In fact, not only Shen Le, who had read history and knew the ending from a later time, but also the current commander of Khotan, the soldiers in Khotan, and even the King of Khotan...

Yes, Khotan still had a king. Theoretically, although Tang troops were stationed in the city, it was still administratively under the rule of the King of Khotan, and half of the city's inhabitants were local Khotan residents...

They also knew that this place was probably beyond their control. In fact, based on previous information, the King of Khotan was already showing interest in the Uyghurs, even considering Shen Le's current body.

Even the locals in the city and surrounding countryside of Khotan had opinions such as, "Why don't we just surrender to the Tibetans? Why should we fight for the Tang?" Not to mention, the external situation was also getting worse:
Anxi and Beiting had always served as a strategic defensive line, jointly resisting the Tibetan invasion. However, last year, just last year, Beiting fell…

Cao Lingzhong, the Grand Protector of Beiting, the Military Governor of Yixi, and the Prince of Ningsai, passed away a few years ago. His successor, Yang Xigu, the Military Governor of Beiting, retreated to Xizhou and is said to have died in battle.

Now, it will soon be Khotan's turn.

Shen Le couldn't say anything, he just nodded vigorously. The general smiled with satisfaction, raised his hand to pat him on the shoulder, but ultimately lowered it, turned around and rummaged through the box, picking up a book:
"This is the roster of all the officers, soldiers, and their families still alive in the city, as well as the Tang civilians. Take this and give it to the Grand Protector... Don't..."

Do not let the Grand Protector forget them, do not let the Tang Dynasty forget them!
Shen Le gave a strong salute, took the book, and turned to leave the tent. All the way, he held the book tightly, unwilling to let go, yet afraid to use too much force, lest he crumple it or wet the cover with his sweaty hands.

These are truly invaluable historical artifacts...

If it could truly be passed down to the present day and come into the hands of cultural relic restorers and historical researchers, how overjoyed they would be!
He hurried back to his quarters, carefully placed the book on his desk, dried his hands, and then, holding his breath, opened it. Upon reading it, he was greatly disappointed:
There wasn't a single word on the book.

Or rather, the entire book was hazy, as if shrouded in a layer of white mist. Shen Le strained his eyes but could not see through the mist to make out any of the words on it.

This is... can't you remember...?

Was it that the owner of this armor and this Mo Dao (a type of long-handled sword) had never read this book, or that he wasn't wearing armor when he read it, and that the Mo Dao or spear wasn't with him, making it impossible for him to pass on his memories?
Shen Le tried several times but failed, and finally sighed in despair, closing the book.

He was still trapped in the memories of the armor and the long-handled sword, like someone in a holographic game who couldn't access or see things the game developers hadn't created...

What a pity, what a pity. If he had truly traveled back in time temporarily, he could have copied this book, found a suitable place to bury it, and hoped that it could be passed down for a thousand years to come.
However, this is just a memory, he

Sigh, let's go, let's go! Let's finish this journey, go to Kucha, go to the Four Towns of Anxi, and go to the place where we've persisted the longest!
Shen Le tidied his things, got up and went outside. Just like last time, he gathered a group of people, ten of them including himself, and once they were ready, they stepped into the desert.

A vast expanse of yellow sand swept towards them. Shen Le, nestled behind the camel's neck, sighed silently.

The last time he went to Kucha, according to this body's memories, was ten years ago. To him, it felt like a few days ago, or perhaps a few months, or even a year or two ago?

Yet at this moment, for some reason, both he and this body felt as if they had been transported to another world…

Last time, ten people went into the desert, and only one person came out last.

This time, if ten people go in, how many will come out?
However, this desert expedition was far more difficult than the last one. The ten men set off and, after traveling less than twenty miles, encountered Tibetan cavalry. They fought their way out, but three of them had already perished.

After another day of travel, near the spring, they encountered another band of bandits. Although they managed to kill one enemy soldier with arrows from a distance without suffering any losses themselves, they did injure a camel.
On the third day, the spring had disappeared, and they had to dig a well to get water. A group of people took turns keeping watch, and they finally waited until the well was filled with yellowish water. They had only filled it halfway when suddenly, a stringed instrument sounded!
"Enemy attack!"

"Enemy attack!!!"

They made it through the night. Shen Le, meanwhile, took off his belt, the one with half of its gold buckle missing, and solemnly carved several lines on the back of the belt.

A cut on the left, and a comrade was left here forever;

Three slashes on the right, horizontal, vertical, and horizontal again; the enemy left behind three corpses...

He will not forget.

Never, ever forget!

On the fourth day, everything was peaceful.
On the fifth day, they still hadn't found a spring and had to continue digging for water.

On the sixth day, they encountered a group of sand bandits, but no fight broke out. Shen Le used a gold belt buckle bestowed by the Emperor of Tang to buy five leather bags of water and a bag of dried meat from them.
On the seventh day, another battle ensued, and they lost all their camels.

On the tenth day, Shen Le lost his last companion...

He was all alone again. Shen Le had already thrown away his skirt armor and greaves, and his arm guards. He spread his vest-style iron armor on the sand, pulled it along with leather ropes, and walked forward step by step, wrapped in a water bladder.

There's still half the distance, at least half the distance left, and this body is far from the prime of life it was ten years ago; its combat strength has also decreased significantly...

But he was determined to get out of there. He could still walk, and he could still wield the longsword!

go!
go!
go!
He struggled to lift his right leg and step into the sand. The soft sand immediately pushed aside, swallowing up the sole of his shoe, the upper of his shoe, and even half of his calf.

Shen Le waited patiently for a moment until his right leg stopped sinking, then leaned forward, gripped the spear with both hands, and tried to thrust it downwards.

Using his right leg to push down and his hands to brace against the recoil from the spear, he pulled his left leg out of the sand.

it is good!
Another step forward!
Keep going! Walk another seventy or eighty steps, and you should reach the top of this dune, where you can slide down!
Shen Le felt he had never suffered such hardship in his life. Leaving aside reality, by the time he was able to enter the desert, he could even fly freely.
In the dream brought by the armor, even last time, he didn't lose his mount, nor did he have to walk across this long desert...

The leather boots were worn out long ago. Gravel poured into the boots from the big toe, the little toe, and through every hole, and then flowed out again with each step.

With each step in and out, plus the movements of stepping down and lifting up, countless grains of sand rubbed against the skin, stinging the soles of the feet that were already blistered.

He would never go through such pain in modern times; he would even immediately apply a healing technique to any scratch.

But now, he simply looked up at the starry sky to make sure he wasn't going the wrong way, then numbly planted his spear, propped it up, and took a step; then pulled out the spear, planted it, propped it up, and took another step...

Climb to the top of the dune, slide down, lie back and breathe a sigh of relief; then struggle to your feet and keep going...

He walked until the moon was high in the sky, until he was exhausted, until late at night, before finally finding a sand dune topped with red willow trees and beginning to dig a well. When he reached a spot with a slight dampness, he moved to a sheltered place, wrapped his tattered sheepskin coat tightly around himself, and curled up into a ball. He loosened his belt, turned it inside out, and gritted his teeth as he carved something inside:
A horizontal stroke!
One vertical line!
Today, two more people were killed, two bandits...

Compared to ten years ago, there are many more Tibetan cavalrymen and bandits in the desert. He doesn't even dare light a campfire at night, for fear of being discovered by the cavalrymen.

Moreover, the water level in the Hotan River is decreasing, and the time required to dig for water is getting longer and longer. We haven't found any water for two consecutive days, the day before yesterday and yesterday, but thankfully we found a little today…

He tightened his belt again, slowly closed his eyes, and sank into the sand. Unfortunately, he couldn't soak his feet, nor could he uphold the fine traditions of the Red Army during the Long March.

The cold wind whistled through my fur coat and my battle robe, stealing away a bit of warmth with every turn.

Shen Le grabbed a strip of meat and chewed it slowly, trying to get some warmth from the protein, but he still felt colder and colder.

If only we could light a fire... We've already killed three bandits today, there shouldn't be any more around, right?

Just light a small fire... just warm your cold arms to keep yourself from catching a cold in the middle of the night...

Shen Le hesitated for a while, then climbed to the top of the sand dune and cut down a few tamarisk branches and camel thorns. Shivering, he started a fire and immediately and eagerly cupped his hands around it.
"It's so cold... I'll warm myself up a bit and then I'll sleep, even if it's just for a little while..."

He huddled beside the fire, slowly closed his eyes, and drifted off to sleep. The fire warmed his chest, and thankfully his back was directly against the sand, preventing the wind from chilling his back.

He lay curled up on his side, one ear pressed against the sand, and fell asleep almost instantly. Even in his sleep, he kept one ear perked up, straining to hear the sounds around him.
Anyone?

Is anyone, or any horses, or any camels approaching?

If you sense anything is wrong, wake up immediately and put out the fire!

But for now... let me... take a nap first...

After an unknown amount of time, Shen Le suddenly opened his eyes. Before even getting up, he rolled on the spot, grabbed the spear, and thrust it upwards.

With a clang, the steel blade struck the spear shaft heavily, bouncing upwards. The newcomer seemed to utter a very crude curse, but Shen Le ignored it, leaping up and crashing headfirst into his arms:
Boom!
A muffled thud. The other person cried out in pain and fell backward. Shen Le gritted his teeth and sneered:
You're kidding me, I didn't take off my armor when I slept!

If the tip of a helmet hits your chest, even if it doesn't break a few of your ribs, it will knock you unconscious!

Of course, he wasn't feeling well either; his head throbbed with pain and he saw stars. He didn't have time to rub it; instead, he reached for the other man's waist with his right hand, pulled out a short dagger, and slashed at him with all his might!
"Go to hell!"

The dull thud of metal piercing flesh was almost inaudible amidst the intense screams. Shen Le, having landed his blow, immediately rolled backward, gripping the spear with both hands and swinging it in a circle around him.
"roll!"

when!
when!
Dangdang...

Whoosh!
A sudden pain shot through the back of his right leg. He had already discarded most of this armor, leaving only the core vest, which protected his vitals but not his arms and legs.

At that moment, an arrow struck his right leg, and the leg immediately lost its strength. His body swayed, and he fell to the ground on the spot.

"kill!"

A roar. The nomadic scimitar slashed down with a cold wind. Shen Le rolled around repeatedly, but after only two rolls, a sharp pain shot through his body, and he had already rolled into the fire.

Before he could extinguish the flames, he held the spear in his left hand and grabbed the firewood with his right, throwing the blazing firewood in all directions toward the bandit leader's face!

"Beware!"

"what!"

"hateful……"

Screams and roars filled the air. The onslaught around him slowed, and everyone scattered to avoid it. Seizing this opportunity, Shen Le braced himself with his spear, half-kneeling, the spear in his hand moving like a dragon or snake:
One!
again!
The third one missed, no problem, now it's one-on-one, I refuse to believe that my fighting spirit and my fighting skills can lose to you!

come!

come!

The sand bandit, steel knife in hand, stared intently at him, retreating step by step. After taking seven or eight steps, his legs suddenly gave way, and he collapsed to the ground, tumbling down the sand dune…

In the blink of an eye, it disappeared into the darkness and could no longer be seen.

Shen Le paused for a moment, then suddenly burst into laughter. The laughter was dry; his mouth, parched for three days, could barely produce any sound, and even his chest burned with pain as he breathed—

But he ignored it all and burst into loud laughter!
So what if the water supply has been cut off for two days?
So what if this body has white hair and is old?
Warriors of the Tang Dynasty, as long as you have a breath left, you cannot defeat us so easily!

If you want to take me down, you'd better spare a few lives!
After laughing for a while, he collapsed to the ground, slowly pulled out the arrow, and then cut off a piece of his hemp inner garment and wrapped it tightly around his neck.

He slowly crawled to the two corpses, searched their bodies, tore off two tattered fur coats to keep warm, and cut off two pieces of leather to stuff into his boots—

Unfortunately, they didn't have any water pouches, so they couldn't carry an extra pouch of water with them...

The road ahead became even more difficult. Her legs quickly became inflamed, first red and swollen, then ulcerated. Eventually, Shen Le could no longer support her body and could only crawl slowly on her knees, step by step, across the sand dunes.
It's been twenty-two days already. At this pace, it will take at least another five days to get out of this desert. I...

It really can...

Will we be able to get out...?

It seems that this historical figure did not successfully complete the journey. At the very least, he dug out those armor fragments, that spearhead, and that half of the breastplate from the desert.

If that Ah Li successfully made it to the edge of the desert, his belongings should also appear there, right?
climb!
We must crawl to get there, crawl out of there, and bring the news that Khotan is about to fall!

(End of this chapter)