Da Ming: The system granted me immortality; I clock in every day.

"I'll do honest business, fair to both young and old. I won't take a single extra penny."

Li Changqing put the hundred-tael silver note into his sleeve, walked around the counter, and went to the backyard.

"The sandstorm is getting fierce outside. If you've rested enough, you should set off soon. It's bitterly cold beyond the Great Wall; don't delay the imperial mission."

A clear voice came from the backyard, carrying an air of unyielding authority.

The guard commander and the merchants kowtowed repeatedly, expressing their deepest gratitude.

They carefully picked up the wooden box full of sample guns and walked out of the seemingly dilapidated inn, which actually harbored a terrifying dragon, as if walking on thin ice.

As they passed the huge palm print crater ahead, they once again felt that tremor that came from the depths of their souls.

"Boss... just who is this old sage?"

The merchant swallowed hard, his voice barely audible.

The guard commander looked deeply at the dilapidated wine vault of the inn, his eyes filled with awe.

"Such extraordinary and saintly masters hide among the dust and sand of the city. How could we mere mortals presume to fathom their existence? To be saved by such a master today is already a blessing from our ancestors."

"This matter must not be publicized after we return to the capital, lest it disturb the senior's peaceful cultivation."

The merchant nodded repeatedly, and the group scrambled onto the carriage.

They kicked up a cloud of dust and raced off towards Datong Prefecture.

Changmen Inn has returned to tranquility.

The setting sun completely disappeared below the horizon, and night fell.

Li Changqing sat on the edge of the well in the backyard, looking up at the bright and vast starry sky beyond the pass.

During his long life of a hundred years, he was both a treacherous minister who wielded power and a virtuous man who lived a secluded life in the city.

Now, amidst the desolate desert, I've experienced the life of a chivalrous wanderer, a life of chivalry and adventure.

That invincible power was, to him, nothing more than a trivial embellishment in the long course of time.

"Although the wind and sand in the Northwest are fierce, they also have a unique rugged charm."

Li Changqing chuckled and pulled a shriveled walnut from his pocket.

He casually pinched it.

With a soft crack, the hard walnut, strong enough to shatter an ordinary person's teeth, turned into powder between his two fingers like a lump of soft mud.

He picked out the walnut kernels, put them in his mouth, and chewed them slowly, savoring their unique aroma.

"Tomorrow, I should go to Dunhuang city and find a skilled carpenter to repair that door."

This vast world, the vicissitudes of history have buried countless bones beneath the yellow sands beyond the Great Wall.

He was merely a bystander in blue robes who occasionally reached out to smooth over some storms in the long river of time.

Serene, and enduring.

……

The wind outside Jiayuguan seems to have never stopped since the beginning of time.

The wind blew across the desolate deserts of the Han Dynasty and across the iron horses and icy rivers of the Tang Dynasty, gradually eroding those once majestic beacon towers into a mound of yellow earth.

Time has left too many vicissitudes and profound marks on this Gobi Desert.

Whether it was the great achievements of kings and generals or the joys and sorrows of ordinary people, they were all eventually buried by the endless yellow sand, turning into a few dry lines of ink in the history books.

The morning light, carrying the unique chill of the Gobi Desert, shone on the dilapidated earthen walls of the Changmen Inn.

Li Changqing pushed open the half-finished, rickety poplar wood door, making a teeth-grinding creaking sound.

He was wearing a pair of black cloth shoes with thick soles.

Her long hair was casually tied into a topknot with a withered twig she had picked up from somewhere.

He looked like any ordinary down-on-his-luck scholar on the Northwest Road, or a poor accountant in some run-down shop.

The earth-shattering incident of a few days ago seemed as if it had never happened in this inn.

The huge crater had been mostly filled with yellow sand swept in by the wind overnight, leaving only a shallow depression.

It looks like some dried-up wild puddle.

The lives of those hundreds of bandits who roamed beyond the Great Wall were wiped out without leaving a trace of blood, disappearing cleanly into this vast land.

"This door has finally reached the end of its life."

Li Changqing patted the cracked half of the door panel and sighed.

If an inn lacks even a large door to keep out the wind and sand, it truly becomes a drafty pavilion.

He turned around and went back into the house, grabbed a tattered rag, and haphazardly wiped down the greasy tables and chairs.

Then, he took out a few loose silver coins from the drawer of the counter and put them in his pocket. He also rolled up the tattered wine bottle with the words "Nagamon" written on it and stuffed it under the threshold.

"I'm out running errands, so we're closed today."

He wrote those eight characters crookedly on the earthen wall outside the door with charcoal.

After doing all this, Li Changqing stood with his hands behind his back, facing the rising sun, along the ancient road that had been hardened like iron by countless ruts.

They walked slowly towards Shazhouwei, which is commonly known as Dunhuang City.

For ordinary merchants and travelers, the thirty-mile stretch of dry Gobi Desert road would take most of the day to traverse on camels.

Along the way, one must not only endure the onslaught of wind and sand, but also guard against the parched thirst caused by the scorching sun.

But for Li Changqing now, this journey is as easy as strolling in a garden.

He seemed to walk very slowly and leisurely, but with each step he took, his figure was already several feet away.

He wielded the profound and mysterious skill of shrinking the earth to an inch, a skill that had long transcended the realm of mortal martial arts, with utter nonchalance.

Not only did it not raise a single speck of dust, but its breathing was as steady as if it were taking a stroll in its own backyard.

Over the course of a century, the enduring power deeply rooted in his soul has become an integral part of his flesh and bones.

He no longer needed to deliberately cultivate, nor did he need to complete any daily chores.

His very existence is the most unfathomable abyss and towering peak in this world.

At three-quarters past Chen Shi (7:45 AM), the ancient city stretching across the edge of the desert came into Li Changqing's view.

Shazhou City, a vital town guarding the throat of the Silk Road, has experienced thousands of years of war and prosperity.

The rammed earth city wall, which is several meters high, has taken on an ancient, dark yellow hue due to the erosion of time.

The surface of the city wall is pitted and covered with marks left by wind and sand.

Every crack seems to tell a story of the fierce battles of yesteryear.

Li Changqing walked outside the city gate and mingled with the crowd entering the city.

Because the Ming Dynasty is now open to trade with all over the world, its national strength is at its peak.

The trade in this northwestern border region flourished to its peak.

At the city gate, the long camel caravan stretched as far as the eye could see.

Those tall Bactrian camels, carrying heavy loads of brick tea, silk and porcelain on their backs, the copper bells around their necks ringing out with a long, crisp "ding-dong" sound as they walked.

Among the crowd were not only merchants from the Central Plains dressed in short clothes, but also merchants from the Western Regions with deep-set eyes, high noses, and felt hats.

The sounds of cursing and haggling in various accents mingled together.

They converged into a vibrant and lively atmosphere of everyday life.

Li Changqing followed the crowd through the deep city gate and stepped into Shazhou City.

The scene inside the city was ten times more bustling than outside.

Shops line both sides of the wide loess streets.

The blacksmith's hammering was deafening, and the aroma of sizzling mutton fat wafted from the flatbread stall.

On the second floor of the tavern, one could even faintly hear the tender melodies of a Western Region woman plucking her pipa.

This kind of atmosphere, where ruggedness and prosperity coexist, is something that the strictly regulated capital city can never experience.