The night fell, the desert sky was cloudless, and the stars shone freely.
Yang Yu and his companions stood on the deck of the sand sailing ship, guarded by a dozen soldiers.
Qing Shi was restless, stories about the Lamia echoed in his mind, while Yang Yu and his team were unrestrained, admiring the beautiful starry sky.
The Lamia guards were not of high level, anyone in Yang Yu's team could easily overpower all the Lamias present.
The only discomfort Yang Yu and his team felt was from the plummeting temperature at night, and the cold wind blowing, piercingly chill.
Before long, the cold wind on the deck of the sand sailing ship made most people shiver, with cold hands and feet.
Even after putting on winter clothes, they still felt cold. Bai Jin activated a barrier to block the cold wind, and Yang Yu lit a stove, making everyone feel a bit more comfortable and able to sleep quietly.
Early the next morning, they woke up slowly to some sound.
