In the endless red wasteland, Saladin led his troops eastward in exploration. The surrounding scenery was monotonous and desolate, seemingly without end.
As time went on, the roads became increasingly deserted. Fear began to creep into the hearts of the Muslim soldiers, who whispered amongst themselves as if their Sultan had led them into some unknown purgatory.
One morning, as the sun was just rising above the horizon, the army set up camp amidst a pile of weathered, black boulders. Saladin's men found Emperor Ammon of Quez, his brow furrowed, clearly sensing a sense of unease.
"Are we lost?" he asked. "Why do we feel like we've gone further than we came?"
Amon glared at him, his tone firm: "Absolutely not! We have a map of this desert. Although few merchants are willing to pass through here, we will definitely find a way out."
"But we are losing soldiers every day! If we cannot find a way out within three days, I fear our entire army will be trapped, with no survivors."
"This road is far more arduous than we imagined." Amon's face was ashen, clearly exhausted.
Since the last war, his injuries had never fully healed, and every time he mounted a horse, he would wince in pain, appearing weak and powerless even while on horseback.
"If we continue onward, we may head towards destruction... However, I know that if I choose to turn back, that will be the real end of the world," he said firmly.
The visitor bowed to him, his voice revealing a hint of respect: "I will truthfully convey your words to His Majesty Saladin." The visitor continued, "May Allah bless you!"
That being said, as Amon looked desperately at the distant horizon, he discovered that their army had been reduced by a quarter, yet the red wasteland still stretched endlessly.
Looking up at the scars on the horizon, a question arose in my mind: "Could that map also be wrong?"
Does Allah really intend to lead them to this scorching desert so that they may die together here?
He refused to believe it.
At dawn the next day, they set foot on a cracked red earth plain, preparing to set up camp, when a scout rode back on a fine horse, his voice filled with excitement and surprise: "Your Majesty! There is a city ahead!" they exclaimed. "That city is as white as the moon and as beautiful as a maiden."
We can get there in just one hour by bike!
“Take me to see it,” Amon said immediately.
When the city finally came into view, Amon was amazed. The white walls and towers shimmered in the thin mist, like a fairyland, so beautiful that he wondered if it was just a mirage.
"Who exactly is this person?" Amon asked the general beside him curiously.
The general shook his head blankly. "Your Majesty, I know nothing about this either. I have never been here before, and there is no record of this place on our maps."
This city seems like a mystery, a mystery that shouldn't exist.
The white walls in the distance resemble a tranquil painting, symbolizing peace and recuperation.
There, it is a haven for people's souls, a sanctuary for healing, and a starting point for regrouping.
A strong longing surged within Amon, a desire to rush immediately to that white wall; however, reason made him stop in his tracks.
He turned to his men and ordered, "You go ahead and investigate carefully to see if there are any Xia troops hiding behind that white wall."
"Yes, Your Majesty!" the subordinates responded in unison.
Soon, the Chuz light cavalry returned, and the news they brought put Amon's mind at ease.
"Your Majesty, it's a dead city. The city gates are ruined, and there's no sign of any living person!"
Upon hearing this news, Amon spurred his horse and galloped ahead through the dilapidated archway of the ancient city, running along the silent streets.
His personal guards followed closely behind.
It is impossible to know how long this city has been abandoned.
From a distance, the pristine white city walls were once considered incomparably beautiful, but upon closer inspection, they are nothing but ruins, with the marks of time clearly visible.
The city's narrow alleyways are intricate and complex, and the buildings seem to be engaged in a silent struggle, crushing each other, devoid of any vitality.
The facades of these buildings have no windows, no features, only a stark white, just as the city's inhabitants have lost all concept of color.
They walked through the ruins, their feet treading on sun-baked rubble, their eyes filled with burn marks and faded colors.
Soon, they found the ruins of a long-destroyed palace, and Amon decided to set up camp there.
The palace square was ravaged by sandstorms, and weeds grew rampant among the cobblestones.
Then, Amon sent people to search the ruins. Not long after, a scarred man came running back, beaming with smiles, carrying a bunch of figs in his arms.
Although the fruit was small and somewhat shriveled, his men greedily reached out to snatch it, pushing and shoving each other to stuff the fruit into their mouths and chew it with satisfaction.
Suddenly, a soldier from Qiuzi exclaimed, "Your Majesty, this fruit..."
"What's wrong?"
"It has no taste and doesn't make you feel full at all!"
"What?" Amon didn't believe it, then picked up the fruit and ate it.
It definitely has no taste at all!
Have I been hungry for too long? Have I lost my sense of taste?
Or is this the natural flavor of this fruit?
The remaining searchers returned with exciting news—they had discovered the legendary orchard in the hidden gardens of the palace.
The crowd escorted Amon into a tranquil courtyard entwined with vines. Clusters of tender green grapes hung from the vines like glistening pearls, swaying gently in the breeze.
In the center of the courtyard, they unexpectedly discovered an ancient well. The well water was crystal clear, as if it could reflect the purest dreams in people's hearts.
A subordinate gently plucked a few grapes and held them to Amon's lips. Amon took a bite with anticipation, but his expression instantly turned somewhat disappointed.
"This..." Amon's voice held a hint of confusion, "Why can't I still feel any taste?"
Just as he was wondering, his subordinate also exclaimed in surprise, "Your Majesty, why does this well water have no taste at all?"
"What can water taste like?" another general from Qiuz asked in surprise.
"Well water usually has a muddy or fishy taste! But this well water is like drinking nothing at all!"
"Could it be? Is all of this fake?" Amon wondered in surprise.
Just then, another subordinate reported: "Your Majesty, Saladin's men have arrived!"
Amon suddenly remembered something. "Stop them! Don't let them in!" he shouted. "It's a trap! A mirage trap set by the assassins of Xuanhua Palace!"
"Xuanhua Palace? A trap?"
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