The late afternoon sun dipped behind a jagged ridge of red sandstone, casting long crimson shadows across the basin of the Red Oasis.
Around the central pool of brackish, mineral-rich water, clusters of rough canvas pavilions, mud-brick shanties, and iron-reinforced hitching posts formed a sprawling waystation for wanderers, caravan guards, and rogue cultivators traversing the frontier.
Ye Chen pulled the heavy sand-skiff cart into the outer perimeter along Tamarisk Lane, the wooden runners grinding over dry gravel with a low, scraping rattle.
His bare arms were covered in red dust, his linen tunic was stained with grease from the cart axles, and the notched gray jade medallion of the Ye Clan rested against his collarbone under his open collar.
With ninety percent of his cultivation lo
