Chapter One Hundred Forty-Five: Turenqi

Hearing Chai Huaixing's question, Tirchi spurred his horse forward and raised his gaze into the depths of the vast desert, seemingly searching for something. After a long while, Tirchi withdrew his gaze, pulled his horse's reins to bring it to Chai Huaixing's side, and pointing into the desert, said, "General Chai, look at those clusters of needlegrass over there. Their root systems can pierce more than six feet into the sandy soil, completely capable of surviving by relying on underground water veins. Generally speaking, they serve as surface markers for underground hidden rivers. By following the traces of these needlegrasses, we can follow the water veins forward."

"Can you be certain of finding a water source sufficient for the army to drink?" Chai Huaixing looked at the boundless desert, feeling uncertain in his heart. After all, no large army had ever set foot in this desert before. When an army traveled and camped, they had to choose locations close to water sources, and in the desert before them, such water sources were the hardest to find.

Tirchi thought carefully in his mind. Over the years, the caravans he led through the desert never numbered more than a hundred people. Relying on his experience, he could find places in the Turun Desert where low-lying terrain caused underground water to resurface, eventually converging into an oasis for those people to rest. However, this was an army of over ten thousand men; whether those oases could sustain the water consumption of so many people was truly a matter yet unknown.

Yet, a childhood memory stirred in Tirchi's mind. At that time, he was still very young. After his parents died, he was chosen by the family to follow the previous Tirchi in the trade of leading caravans in and out of the desert. Following a violent sandstorm, he clearly remembered that after losing the vast majority of their drinking water, the people in the caravan began to kill one another for the very last drops of water.

That incident remained the most unforgettable memory in young Tirchi's mind. It made him clearly realize that at the critical moment of life and death, there was nothing human beings would not do. The old Tirchi had sheltered young Tirchi in his arms, and the two of them sat on a camel cart, watching the members of the caravan slaughter each other.

The reason the two of them could remain so leisurely was entirely because they were deep in the desert. If these people left Tirchi, unless a miracle happened, they would have only a dead end before them. Therefore, no matter how fiercely these people fought among themselves, they would not dare to provoke Tirchi and bring trouble upon themselves.

Young Tirchi looked up at the old Tirchi who was shielding him in his arms and asked, "Aren't you afraid?"

The old Tirchi smiled and said, "I was afraid at first, but I got used to it after seeing it too many times. In this desert, they cannot do without us, because we understand the desert. We know every grain of sand, every clump of wild grass, and every piece of dead wood. Leaving them, we will only find it easier to survive in the desert; but leaving us, they will have only death awaiting them. Therefore, no matter how they slaughter each other, it makes no difference to us. The only thing we need to care about is having a few fewer people's daily water consumption to worry about in the end."

Young Tirchi nodded, half-understanding. At his age, he could not yet comprehend why old Tirchi could watch people die before his eyes with such detachment. Later, old Tirchi died, and he assumed the name of Tirchi, burying him in a stone tomb within the desert. This was the ultimate destination for a Tirchi. Every time he led a caravan across the desert, Tirchi would leave a few stones here, and finally, on the day he died, these stones would be used to pile up a grave for him in the yellow sand, burying him within it. It was said that each stone represented the merit of a caravan member he had safely brought out of the desert, and these merits would accompany him into reincarnation, blessing him from suffering further hardship.

Tirchi himself did not believe in such things, but old Tirchi, who had raised him and taught him how to survive in the desert, had repeatedly begged him to do so, and Tirchi could only follow his instructions. Later, after Tirchi led countless caravans across the Turun Desert, he slowly came to understand old Tirchi's intention. Facing the boundless yellow sand day after day, holding the belief that bringing out a caravan could accumulate some virtue was the only solace in life. Tirchi also began leaving stones behind, until he later joined the Western Regions army.

It was precisely during that incident that Tirchi remembered how, after those merchants had slaughtered each other, old Tirchi had also drawn the saber from his waist, recited a scripture over the last severely wounded yet still breathing merchant on the field, and then plunged the saber into that person's chest. The merchant made a gurgling sound in his throat, his body twitched a few times, and then he breathed his last.

"He was severely injured. Even in the prefecture city, he might not have been curable, let alone in the desert." Old Tirchi used a piece of fabric used to cover the goods on the camel cart to wipe the blood off the saber, then left the cargo wagon in place, gathered the corpses together, and set a fire to burn them completely.

Afterwards, the two of them each mounted a camel and walked aimlessly forward. After enduring that massive sandstorm, even old Tirchi had lost his way. He said to young Tirchi, "This Turun Desert is a living sea of sand. If one only knows how to blindly memorize a few routes, they will surely die in the desert in the end. You must learn to feel the breathing and pulse of the desert, and learn to track the water veins hidden beneath the yellow sand."

After walking for a day and a half, the fresh water in the two waterbags was finally exhausted. The two of them simply curled their bodies up under their cloaks as much as possible, lying flat on the camels and panting heavily, abandoning control over the camels beneath them and letting them walk along on their own accord. The midday sun felt as if it were about to bake the sand itself, and just when both of them were feeling somewhat desperate, the camels crested a sand dune, and a vast oasis abruptly appeared before their eyes.

In this oasis, drought-resistant plants such as Populus euphratica, strange willows, and camel thorns could be seen, and at the very center was a pool of clear spring water. To the two of them, it looked like heaven. However, neither of them urged their camels forward to rush over, because this could also be a mirage that frequently appeared in the desert, luring passing travelers to continuously try to approach it until they died of exhaustion.

It was not until the two camels slowly and leisurely walked into the oasis themselves that the two men dared to confirm that the oasis casting its shadow upon them was not a mirage, but truly real. Disregarding all notions of seniority and status, they rolled down from their camels simultaneously, flung themselves beside the water, cupped the crystal-clear lake water of the oasis in their hands, and brought it to their mouths.

This pool of spring water was melted snow from the nearby high mountains, which had flowed underground for a hundred miles and seeped out in this relatively low-lying place, gathering over long years into this lake and nurturing the surrounding vegetation to form an oasis.