If I, a death row inmate, am not to become a demon, am I to become a member of the Imperial Guard?

Dead silence.

The wind blew the sand so loudly it sounded like ghosts crying.

Zhou Yang stood up and brushed the sand off his clothes. He didn't look at anyone, and his voice was calm.

"Walk."

One word, no further explanation needed.

Shi Gun also stood up. He was a head taller than Zhou Yang, like an iron tower. He glanced at Zhou Yang, then at the old wolf huddled in the corner, and finally looked in the direction from which the sound of horses' hooves came.

"Which way?"

Zhou Yang pointed with his finger.

"East."

He didn't give a reason. But Shi Gun didn't ask. He turned and left, his shadow stretching long in the moonlight.

Da Hu and A Si exchanged a glance and quickly followed. They helped the still trembling old wolf to his feet. The old wolf's legs were like limp noodles; he practically dragged himself forward.

The group moved again.

The previous conversation ceased, leaving only the sound of footsteps crunching on the sand, a soft, rustling sound. This, combined with the faint, distant sound of horses' hooves, created a sense of unease.

They walked slowly but steadily. Zhou Yang led the way, like an experienced hunter who always found the most efficient route. He would stop occasionally to crouch down and feel the temperature of the sand, or look up at the position of the stars.

Half an hour later, they arrived at a pile of rocks.

This place is like a toy thrown down by a giant, with stones of all sizes lying haphazardly. The stone roller stopped and pointed into the depths of the pile of rocks.

"The well is right there."

There was a hint of uncertainty in his voice. It was a dry well. The wellhead was covered with a few broken planks, and the sides were piled high with dried animal bones. It looked like it had been dry for many years.

Da Hu leaned closer, peeked inside, then pulled back, his face full of disappointment.

"It's so dry, you can even see the bottom."

Ah Si also peeked out and kicked a stone away while cursing.

"Damn it, all that excitement for nothing."

Despair spread like a plague. Even the team, which had just begun to find its way, sank back down. Old Wolf plopped down on the ground, clutching his head, and began chanting something about the "Blood River Ancient Talisman" taking lives.

Zhou Yang ignored them.

He walked around the dry well. His steps were slow, his eyes scanning the ground like an eagle's. The sand was rippled with wind, a chaotic pattern. But in an inconspicuous crack in a rock, he saw something.

A blade of grass.

A very small, almost dead blade of grass. But in a place like this, a single blade of grass is a miracle in itself.

Zhou Yang squatted down.

He carefully parted the sand around the grass roots with his fingers. The sand was damp. Not the surface layer dried by the wind, but the moisture deep beneath.

He dug further down with his fingers.

After digging about an inch deep, a slippery, wet sensation came through. It was water. Not stagnant water from the well, but seeping, flowing water.

His eyes lit up.

"Not here," Zhou Yang said in a low voice.

He stood up and, using the plant as a center, began to expand the search area. He walked carefully, each step as if measuring the distance. Shi Gun watched him, his eyes filled with doubt, but he didn't disturb him. He chose to trust Zhou Yang.

Another quarter of an hour passed.

Zhou Yang stopped in front of a huge shale slab. The slab looked unremarkable, covered with weathered cracks. He bent down, his nose almost touching the slab.

He smelled it.

It's not the fishy smell of sand, nor the stench of rotting bones. It's a fresh smell, with a hint of sweetness. It's the smell of water.

He ran his fingers along the edge of the stone slab. A cool sensation spread through his fingertips. It was much cooler here than elsewhere.

He straightened up and looked at the stone roller.

"Give me a hand."

The stone roller came immediately. The two grabbed one corner of the stone slab and lifted it together. The stone slab was heavy and didn't budge.

"rise!"

Zhou Yang let out a low roar and suddenly exerted force in his waist. A surge of power erupted from his small body. The stone slab made a dull groan as it was lifted.

Da Hu and A Si quickly came over to help. The four of them, shouting slogans, finally managed to move the several-hundred-pound stone slab.

Beneath the stone slab was a depression half-covered by sand.

The pit wasn't big, about the size of a washbasin. At the bottom, a spring was bubbling up. The water was so clear that you could see the smooth pebbles at the bottom.

Everyone was stunned.

Da Hu rubbed his eyes and stammered, "The water... is alive..."

Without thinking, Ah Si lunged forward, his head about to plunge into the water.

"Don't drink it!"

Zhou Yang and Shi Gun shouted to stop at the same time.

Shi Gun grabbed Ah Si by the back of his collar and pulled him back. "We don't know if the water here is poisonous. What's the rush?"

Ah Si finally realized what had happened, a hint of fear on his face. But his eyes remained fixed on the pool of water, his throat bobbing incessantly.

Zhou Yang ignored them. He tore off a corner of his clothes, dipped it in the spring water, wrung it out, and then carefully wiped his hands. He then scooped up a handful of water and smelled it.

The water is very clean.

He stuck out his tongue and licked it lightly.

A sweet sensation instantly slid across my chapped lips and flowed down my throat, like the first rain falling on parched land.

"I can drink it," Zhou Yang said.

These three words sound like heavenly music.

Big Tiger and Ah Si cheered and, following Zhou Yang's example, washed their hands clean. Then they knelt down by the spring and carefully began to drink. Old Wolf also tumbled over, buried his head in the water, and drank hastily and choked, crying as he drank.

Shi Gun didn't rush to drink the water. He stood by the spring, cautiously observing his surroundings. This was a habit he had developed over many years.

Zhou Yang drank a few sips of water and felt some strength returning to his body. He didn't indulge in this feeling of relief, but immediately started doing the next thing.

He bit his fingertip again.

Blood beads quickly appeared, their color even more vibrant than before.

He used blood as ink to draw on a flat stone by the spring.

His movements were quick, his lines simple and bold. He drew a crooked line to represent the rocky valley they had just traversed. To the east of the line, he drew a circle, marking their current location.

Inside that circle, he drew a smaller circle and placed a dot next to it.

This is the mark he left behind.

A simple survival supply map.

In case they get separated, or if someone returns, they can use this marker to find this life-saving water source. Drawing with blood will preserve it longer. In this desert, one's own blood is the most reliable ink.

Shi Gun looked at the drawing, a hint of approval flashing in his eyes. This young man was far more meticulous than he had imagined.

After Zhou Yang finished drawing, he kicked some sand to partially cover the blood-stained drawing, so that it wouldn't be easily blown away by the wind, but would be enough for someone with a keen eye to discover it.

After doing all this, he straightened up and said to the stone roller, "We need to set up a watchtower. They won't stop until dawn."

Shi Gun nodded. He took out several sharpened wooden stakes from his backpack. These were things he had prepared beforehand.

"Here, the best defensive formation is to utilize the terrain."

Shi Gun pointed to several large rocks around the spring.

"Pile these stones into several triangular mounds around the spring. Don't space them too far apart. Then tie them together with thin rope and bury them in the sand. Cover them with loose sand. If anyone sneaks in and touches the rope, the mounds will collapse, making a sound that will give us time to react."

As he spoke, he began to move the stones.

Da Hu and A Si, having drunk their fill of water and regained their strength, quickly went to help. The three of them worked silently and swiftly, moving stones, burying ropes, and piling up stones.

Zhou Yang didn't participate. He leaned against a rock and closed his eyes.

He had just discovered the water source, using a sliver of his mental energy. That mental energy came from his burning lifespan. Although it was only for a brief moment, the consumption was real. He now needs to recover.

The wind seemed to have died down a bit.

The distant sound of horses' hooves had faded away. But that didn't mean the danger had disappeared. Perhaps they had simply stopped temporarily, waiting and searching.

This small spring is like a candle in boundless darkness. It gives them hope, but it may also attract moths.

Zhou Yang opened his eyes and looked at the busy Shi Gun and the others.

The stone roller moved with great skill, stacking each stone steadily. Da Hu and A Si, though clumsy, worked tirelessly. Old Wolf, on the other hand, huddled by the spring like a frightened quail, hugging his knees, his eyes glazed over.

A temporary, fragile camp is slowly taking shape.

Zhou Yang licked his lips. The sweetness of the water was still there, but more of it was the metallic taste of blood.

He knew this was just the beginning.

Since the Heavenly Principle Sect has dispatched the Blood River Ancient Talisman, they won't let this go easily. The real storm is yet to come. All they can do is gather every ounce of strength they can before the storm arrives.

He walked to the spring, scooped up a handful of water, and drank it slowly. The water flowed down his throat, washing away his weariness. He looked at his blurry reflection on the water; his face was eerily calm.

Like the calm on the sea before a storm.