When the tires of military trucks rolled over the gravel road along the border, they made a muffled sound, as if beating the beat of this silent desert. Mu Ci was sitting in the corner of the carriage, holding the warm jade pendant in his arms - something Lin Wanqing left outside the logistics tent. The quality of the jade was not top-notch, and the edges were a little frayed. It was obviously something that had been worn close to the body for many years. His fingertips rubbed the lotus pattern carved on the jade pendant, and he could clearly feel a faint but stubborn air of luck clinging to it. It was not as cold as the black air that Lin Wanqing had been contaminated with before, but instead had a fragile tremor similar to Lei Lei's when he was injured.
