"This must be the place where the Hun Gu Du Baichang was ambushed and killed when he was chasing Zhao Muyun and his group! That falling rock is a deadly trap!"
Timur took the blood-stained gravel. The cold touch and the lingering breath of death made his fingers tighten slightly.
A blazing fire of revenge burned in his eyes: "A ray of light! A falling rock! Such a cruel trick!"
He slammed the gravel to the ground and shouted, "Zuan! You've done well! Lead your men across that narrow gap immediately and continue searching deeper into the Gobi Desert!"
"Focus on finding the water source and any traces of human activity! Those Wuhuan people transporting salt must have a fixed destination and a source of crude salt!"
"I must see him alive or dead. I must dig out the source!"
"Yes, sir!"
Zuan's spirits lifted, and he immediately gathered the remaining dozens of elite cavalrymen in his headquarters and charged into the vast Gobi Desert again without hesitation.
Crossing the blood-stained "Line of Sky" battlefield, Zuan and his men struggled through the desolate Danxia landform.
The scorching sun and the wind and sand were blowing in their faces, but Timur's strict orders and the excitement of discovering the battlefield made them dare not slack off in the slightest.
With the tracking skills of experienced scouts, they followed some extremely hidden and deliberately covered wheel tracks and horse manure traces, and in the evening of the next day, the trail suddenly became clear.
A huge salt lake, like an emerald embedded in the reddish-brown Gobi Desert, appeared before them!
The lake water is clear, with white salt crystals condensed on the edge.
Scattered along the lakeside are simple huts and earthen stoves that were obviously man-made and are now empty, as well as large areas of leveled salt fields used for drying salt, with grayish-white coarse salt particles remaining on them.
There was a faint salty smell in the air.
"Salt Lake! It's Salt Lake!"
Zaun's men let out suppressed exclamations, their eyes filled with greed.
They quickly spread out and searched the entire camp.
"Sir! The shed is empty! The stove is cold! There's not a soul in sight!"
"There's still some coarse salt in the salt pans that hasn't been collected yet!"
"Looking at the traces, they left in a hurry, but in an orderly manner, and took most of the things with them!"
Zuan carefully examined the signs of the camp's evacuation, his brow furrowed. "Damn, they ran so fast! They must have gotten wind of it!"
He did not give up and ordered his men to expand the search area, hoping to find any missed clues or survivors who had not had time to evacuate.
Just when the search was about to be in vain, a soldier found a small piece of clothing half buried by sand on the shady side of an inconspicuous sand dune outside the camp.
He curiously used the scabbard to push aside the loose sand, revealing a pale and stiff human leg!
"Captain! There's a person here! Buried in the sand!" the soldier exclaimed.
Zuan immediately led his men over and started digging through the sand pile in a hurry.
A middle-aged man, dressed in rags, covered in wounds and almost dying, was dug out.
His lips were chapped and his face was pale, but judging by the style of his clothes, he was obviously not a Wuhuan or a Tartar. He looked more like... a merchant or manager from the Han area?
The soldier roughly forced him to drink a few sips of water.
The man coughed violently several times, opened his eyelids with difficulty, and looked at the ferocious Tartar cavalry in front of him with cloudy and terrified eyes.
Zuan squatted down and shouted in stiff Chinese, "Who are you? Why are you here? Where did those Wuhuan people escape to?"
The man seemed frightened by Zuan's vicious tone. His body trembled violently and he answered in an extremely weak and intermittent voice:
"I... I am... Shuozhou... Bai family... Bai Shoujing... Second in command... Save me..."
Before he could finish his words, his head tilted and he fainted again.
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