He quietly approached Gregory Lawrence and whispered a reminder, "Don’t get any ideas about Hannah."

Gregory looked at him, baffled.

Gregory Lawrence said, "Can’t you see? She and Arnold Simmons are a couple. That night, they even sneaked into the grove and were gone for almost an hour!"

Gregory replied, "You’re crazy."

After saying that, he walked over with his long sword and sat down next to a large rock.

He was responsible for keeping watch tonight.

"Calling me crazy again?" Gregory Lawrence scratched his head, glanced at the sleeping Hannah, and closed his eyes as well.

At midnight,

there was a sound of the wind.

The wind caused the flames to dance, and sparks jumped out, landing on the desert and quickly extinguishing.

Something kicked the pile of fire.

Gregory opened his eyes to look.

It was Gregory Lawrence, who had in his sleep touched the dry branches near the fire.

He got up, walked over, and adjusted Gregory Lawrence’s outstretched hand.

Gregory Lawrence muttered something, grabbed Gregory’s black robe, and rolled over, pressing it close.

Gregory tugged at it, couldn’t pull it free, and had no choice but to take off the black robe and throw it over Gregory Lawrence.

At night, the vulture seemed to have already left.

But Gregory always had a feeling that the vulture had come for Hannah.

But it was just a feeling.

...

During the day, they continued their journey as usual.

But this time, they hadn’t traveled far before they encountered a group of people.

The group was odd.

The leader was a middle-aged man with a scruffy beard, wearing clothes that seemed sewn together from various differently colored fabrics.

The rest of the twenty or thirty people were dressed just like the leader.

Their style was very rough.

Some looked like they had been living in the desert for a long time, their skin even tanned to a bronze color.

But among such a group, there was an incongruent young man.

The man was dressed in a blue long coat, his black hair tied back reaching his waist, his features delicate and handsome, like a lotus leaf in a summer pond beaded with raindrops, giving a feeling of gentle comfort.

Encountering such a group in the desert wasn’t the strangest thing.

The strangest thing was the middle-aged leader calling Hannah "boss."

And the refined-looking man, upon seeing Hannah, looked like he was about to burst into tears.

"What is going on here?"

Gregory Lawrence was dumbfounded.

He instinctively looked at Arnold Simmons.

Arnold Simmons was very calm, his face unchanged, but the calmer he was, the more menacingly oppressive he seemed.

Especially the way he looked at Hannah’s back.

Dark and profound.

Not angry, more like harboring a deep sense of unease.

"Why have you come here?"

Hannah stepped out from their group of four and stood in front of Sixth Hoffman.

"Boss, we were worried about you!" Sixth Hoffman smiled naively, "Looks like our strategist was right, you really did take this road."

"Qing Yu?"

Only then did Hannah notice Qing Yu standing among the crowd.

He seemed a bit shy, or perhaps timid.

It had been so long since they’d seen each other, he suddenly didn’t know what emotion to greet her with.

Should it be indifferent, passionate, or perhaps... nostalgic?

Sixth Hoffman continued, "This time we really owe it to Qing Yu, without him we definitely wouldn’t have found you. It’s all because of those Imperial people, if it weren’t for your orders, we would certainly have beaten them until they cried for their fathers."

Perhaps because they had found Hannah, Sixth Hoffman’s hanging heart was completely relaxed, and his speech was very bold and confident.

He was so excited, he almost felt like rushing to fight a battle against the Empire’s mech troops right then.