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"Let me introduce my neighbor," Wind said. "The oasis he lives in is called Pearl Lake. Its geography is quite strange, surrounded by dunes like mountains, with the oasis right in the middle. Normally, such an oasis would be easily buried by sandstorms. Not only has it remained intact, but it has also grown many trees and attracted birds and other wildlife. I told him I lived at Bean Sprout Spring. To my surprise, a month later, he came to visit me. For an ordinary person, it would take at least twenty days to travel from that oasis to my Bean Sprout Spring."
Cui Ming asked, "How did he get here?"
"I didn't ask; I was just touched. I killed a rabbit and offered him my last jug of wine. He spoke very little, mostly just listened to me ramble on. It was rare for me to have someone to talk to, so I kept going on and on. The next day, when he was about to leave, he told me that if I wanted, I could move to his oasis. I said it was his territory, and if I couldn't make it here, I'd go seek him out. I asked if he wanted to leave the desert; I said I could help him. He replied that he had already lived in the desert for seven years; this place was his home. In the end, he invited me to visit him whenever I had time. After that, I had things to do—buying wine and then going to find him. This whole process took half a month, and since meeting him, I've found that time isn't so hard to bear. While buying wine, I robbed the son of the lord of Double Bridge City and got a million; I signed up for a competition. As long as I registered, I could avoid punishment."
Cui Ming nodded. "No wonder you came back with a backpack full of wine."
"A neighbor in the desert is truly rarer than a confidant. I talk to myself every day, but having someone to converse with feels wonderful. I shared everything I'd thought about and done over the past month with him. He listened quietly, occasionally saying a word." Wind Tear Run remarked, "It's a pity he's an older man; why couldn't he be a young girl? Forced into this situation, bringing someone into the desert for a few years... and he's just another man. It's heartbreaking to think about."
As they delved deeper into the desert, Wind's words became more abundant despite having lived there for many years. He still felt lonely in this vast expanse of sand. Talking was his best way to relieve stress. Cui Ming was soft on the outside but tough on the inside; he had endured five years of confinement without breaking down. However, confinement couldn't compare to the desert—at least in confinement there were people delivering food every day and occasional conversations.
"Who knows? After hundreds of years, these oases might connect and become a sanctuary for practitioners and criminals alike. My statue would stand tall at the highest point, holding a knife and gazing quietly into the distance—bearing the weariness of a middle-aged man while also radiating kindness and righteousness mixed with an air of handsomeness. Every person entering the sanctuary would feel a sense of reverence as they passed my statue, wishing they had been born hundreds of years earlier to gallop through the desert with me."
"It might even turn into a desert city with airship routes—convenient transportation and thriving tourism; its citizens prosperous and wealthy. They would never forget a man like the wind who founded this city—he would be known as the Creator God of this place. Everyone living or passing through here would be filled with gratitude towards him and respect for his life story. When people talked about him, they would do so with genuine respect and care..."
"Paralysis," you must be delusional! But having a chatterbox companion in the desert is indeed nice. The best part is that this chatterbox doesn't require responses; he just talks on his own.
...
Nine days later, they finally arrived at Bean Sprout Spring. From afar, it looked like a single grain in the vast sea—a splash of green that brought peace to one's heart. Cui Ming understood why Wind said hearing the sound of water was like listening to heavenly music.
At Bean Sprout Spring, there were still people around. As they approached, Feng Dao exclaimed, "It's my neighbor! When did you come?"
Cui Ming looked at the man—a man under forty wearing dusty yellow clothes covered in sand. He wore an old yellow hat with hair tucked inside; his face was pale without a beard. At first glance, Cui Ming felt suspicious; this man was definitely not what Wind described as an ordinary person. However, Cui Ming held no hostility towards him; after living alongside Wind as neighbors for several years, there had been no aggressive behavior.
Wind saw the man and was very happy; he laughed heartily and walked over for an embrace. The man calmly extended one hand; Wind lightly tapped his fist against it before turning back to Cui Ming: "Let me introduce you—this is Zhir, my neighbor. This is my friend Cui Ming; he came here seeking refuge from being hunted by Lich."
Zhir nodded lightly at Cui Ming, his expression unreadable, neither approving nor disapproving. Feng Dao said, "Zhir, you are in luck today. We have top-quality wine and some dried three-layered meat. Cui Ming, bring out the goods; I’ll go plant some trees... Why are there still only those few rabbits?"
This was a nearly three hundred square meter green space, surrounded by a ditch that encircled it. Next to the ditch, green plants were already growing. As long as there was water, there would be plants.
Cui Ming handed a new wine gourd to Zhir, who accepted it with a nod and turned back to gaze quietly at the distant Dune. After a while, he took a sip of the wine and fell into a daze. Unlike ordinary people who might ignore their surroundings when lost in thought, when Zhir dazed off, Cui Ming would casually reach for the wine, and Zhir would naturally turn back to take it.
After planting the trees, night fell. The three of them sat on some stones, drinking and chatting. Most of the time, it was just Cui Ming and Feng talking, with Feng doing most of the talking while Zhir remained almost silent. He didn’t ask questions and would occasionally respond with a soft "mm" to their conversation. In the middle of the night, while Cui Ming and Feng lay down on the grass to sleep, Zhir remained seated, gazing at the starry sky, lost in thought. Cui Ming had his doubts but chose not to inquire; as long as there was no hostility, he believed that if Zhir needed something, he would speak up.
Morning arrived, bringing another dull day with little to do—watching fish, training in the sand, sitting idly, or counting blades of grass when boredom struck.
However, with Cui Ming around, things wouldn’t be so dull. He pulled out a deck of Poker cards and said, "Come on! I’ll teach you how to play Landlord."
Zhir reluctantly walked over and sat down awkwardly, picking up the cards stiffly. After explaining the rules, Cui Ming played as the landlord: "Three threes with a pair."
Feng replied, "Three sixes."
"Three aces."
"Pass."
Cui Ming continued playing; he had one single card, one pair, and a set of two bombs. He wasn’t cheating but had deduced that the big jokers were in both players' hands. Therefore, he was guaranteed to win this round. He was sure they were in different hands because they hadn’t been played yet; Cui Ming deliberately made an exaggerated gesture of playing all his cards to tease Feng.
"One four."
Feng played: "One ace."
Cui Ming responded: "Two bombs and a pair..."
Zhir reached out, interrupting Cui Ming, clumsily pulling out two cards and placing them on the grass—two pairs of Kings.
Feng was delighted. "So you don't have a Joker."
So it turned out he was a beginner. No matter, he had a pair of Kings himself.
Zhir played a Four. Feng had a straight and chose not to play. Cui Ming hesitated for a moment before also passing. Zhir then played another Four, and Feng paused, explaining, "Zhir, you can play pairs directly."
Zhir nodded, and Cui Ming passed again. Zhir played a Five, but Cui Ming still passed. Zhir followed up with another Five.
Damn it, he had encountered a skilled player. The Jokers were gone, the Twos and Aces had been played, and the Kings should be the highest cards left. However, Cui Ming knew he was losing; if he wasn't mistaken, Zhir held a full house of Eights. He needed to break apart his pair but wasn't in a hurry—he still had plenty of cards left to play.
Cui Ming passed again, and at that moment, Zhir played three Eights with one card as a kicker. Cui Ming immediately felt like giving up; it was too foolish of him. Zhir continued with three consecutive pairs and then played one more card—he was out.
What a master! Zhir showed no expression, as if winning was expected.
In the second round, Cui Ming was still the landlord. He began to play at a high level; this was an advanced strategy for someone who was a king of cards in Poker competitions. Zhir maintained a poker face while Feng's expressions were lively; it was clear he had good cards in hand. Zhir's pace slowed down as he carefully examined his discarded cards, lightly furrowing his brow as if calculating.
Now it was Zhir's turn to play; he held a pair of Threes and an additional Four. He knew he couldn't win; he needed to find a way for Feng to win instead. Feng had two cards, and Cui Ming also had two cards. These four cards were a Joker, two Sevens, and a Three. Zhir had to deduce whether Feng held the Joker and the Three or a pair of Sevens.
Zhir analyzed the situation for quite some time in his mind and concluded that Cui Ming likely did not hold the Joker; otherwise, he would have played it earlier. However, in the first round, Zhir sensed that Cui Ming was quite skilled at playing cards. In this round, Cui Ming had calculated early on that he held a bomb and successfully forced it out; this meant he was well-prepared—not using the Joker to pressure Feng but waiting for Feng to play pairs so he could directly crush him and force Zhir to play his bomb as a last resort.
Zhir continued calculating; if Cui Ming had a pair of Sevens, then his timing for playing the bomb would be correct. If it were single cards, then he should wait before playing his bomb. Therefore, playing the bomb indicated that he trusted Cui Ming had a pair of Sevens; since that was the case, there could be no regrets. Zhir drew a card and played a Four.
Cui Ming laid down a Seven, and Zhir felt certain that Cui Ming held a pair of Sevens—this round was won. When it came time for Feng to play, all he needed to do was lay down the Joker.
Feng Dao said calmly, "Pass."
"Pass?" Cui Ming and Zhir asked in unison, turning to look at Feng. A wave of panic washed over Cui Ming. Could it be that the Little King was in Zhir's hand? If so, this round was completely ruined for him; all his plans were in vain.
Feng nodded. "Yes, pass."
Cui Ming gestured, "Zhir, it's your turn."
Zhir, holding only a 3 and a 4, sighed in frustration. "Pass."
"Pass?" Cui Ming was utterly confused. He played a 7. "I win."
"Ah?" Zhir looked at Feng.
Feng laid down his cards: a Little King and a 3. Cui Ming questioned, "Feng, why didn't you play the Little King?"
With a hint of regret, Feng replied, "I thought Zhir was going to play."
"The Big King has already been played; the Little King is the highest card now."
Feng froze for a moment and asked, "When was the Big King played?" He had assumed that Zhir had one Big King and one single card left, so he casually passed.
Upon hearing Feng's words, Zhir finally showed some expression. He slapped his forehead with his right hand, wearing an utterly pained look. It's one thing not to know how to count cards, but not even knowing whether the Big King has been played or not? That's entirely your fault. (To be continued.)
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