Zhou Cheng wasn't really sure what to expect from a merchant's caravan. He had only distant memories of what it was like to see those merchant trains when they passed through the city he used to call home, but he stayed away from them at the time - people with money tended to look down on urchins, and people who looked down on urchins weren't shy about making that known. What he did remember were wagons and oxen.

The caravan here has… furry horses. With strange, lumpy backs. He's certain they had an actual name - things usually did, after all - but he could not say he had ever seen them. Or smelled them. He felt like gagging just being in the general area of them, which he admits is perhaps a little unfair given he had to coat himself in perfumes to avoid doing that to everyone else.

"Majestic are they not?" Tian Mingfei declares cheerfully, either ignoring his discomfort or just not even registering it. He can never tell with her. "They are wondrous beasts. Foul of temper, but sturdy and stubborn - few other creatures could carry us across the Desert so."

"Foul of odor as well," he mutters, nose wrinkling, "Is there really no other way?" He would much rather go on foot if it meant avoiding having to deal with the beasts.

She just beams back at him and doesn't respond - which isn't really a 'no', he notes, but it's not really a 'yes' either. He supposes compared to the past three years, the beasts aren't as bad - it's something he can put up with, if nothing else. "Come! I will introduce you to the Chief."

Before he can tell her that won't be necessary, she's already dragging him away by the arm. The smell of the beasts is even worse up close, and he isn't really sure what to make of the tribals surrounding them. There was a distinct difference to their faces and skin - a few shades darker than their own - and they had strange furry hats. They way they moved, they way they talked... everything was different from what he remembered.

That wasn't really why he was uncomfortable around them - it was more that he just didn't know how to deal with them. He preferred it best when he knew the rules, although a part of him wonders if he ever truly did. It's not as though following them has protected him.

A particularly large man - more round than tall - turns to face them, his face plump and nearly entirely circular with an almost squashed face. He smells like the beasts they ride, mixed with something akin to… off milk? It's not a pleasant scent, to him at least, and pungent all the same. When he speaks, it is in the same language he can hear being spoken all around him - not one Zhou Cheng understands, unfortunately. Which really just means it isn't the only language Zhou Cheng understands. Something he may have to rectify in future.

Tian Mingfei replies in the same tongue, seemingly fluent. He's left standing there awkwardly as they converse, distinctly uncomfortable and wondering what it is they have to discuss. Last minute arrangements? The weather? He hates not knowing, but he's not so bold as to interrupt.

Oh. They're gesturing at him. They're talking about him. Okay. That makes things worse. If they're going to talk about him, then interrupting is fine. "What are you talking about?" he asks, trying not to sound as irritated by the situation as he feels.

"Ha, so he does speak!" the Chief declares with a surprising lack of accent, grinning at him with an expression that reminds him entirely of Tian Mingfei, "I was just telling Mingfei about the route we'll be using. The Sandstorms haven't been as bad as of late, which is very good news for us - but I'm concerned about Sand Devils."

The fact that he could've said something at any point and was holding his tongue for nothing is decidedly less shocking than hearing him refer to Tian Mingfei so familiarly. "I'm sure it's nothing we can't handle," he says, trying all the harder to keep his voice neutral.

"Brave words, but I would believe them more if you had ever seen a Sand Devil."

"They're massive beasts that swim in the dunes," Tian Mingfei adds, "They're known to destroy whole caravans. I do not think it is something we should risk if we can avoid it."

For even Tian Mingfei to suggest they avoid it… then he will have to take back his words.

"We are unlikely to run into any, fortunately, but in order to keep that possibility as low as we can, we will have to take a circuitous route I'm afraid. It is their mating season this time of year, so the center of the Desert is rife with them," the Chief continues, gesturing with his hands in what Zhou Cheng sincerely hopes is not some sort of… representation of Sand Devils mating habits. If it is, he's very confused as to how any of it works. "Very good eating if you're strong enough - but not for us I'm afraid."

He frowns a little, but pushes it aside for now. The forecast isn't exactly heartening, and he really would've preferred to have just flown straight there, but he knows why they can't do that either. "The sooner we get there, the better."

"Aye, but the safer you get there is best," he counters lightly. "Now, we do have a tent you can use - I'm afraid it likely won't be anything a Cultivator would be used to, but it keeps the cold air out, and in the event of a sandstorm, you can seal it."

"It'll be fine." How spoiled does he think he is, exactly? Sure, Zhou Cheng has grown accustomed to sleeping in soft beds in his own room, but he is not so far gone that he's forgotten his roots. Or lack of, rather. "Are we setting off soon?"

"So impatient!" the Chief teases, which is entirely too forward of him. He's beginning to understand how someone like him could address Tian Mingfei like that. "Yes, we will be setting off soon, once we finish the final preparations. Mingfei will take you to your ride, yes? I must attend to the others." With that, he turns to shout something at someone else - whatever response he gets seems to frustrate him, because he soon marches off in that direction, muttering to himself the entire way.

Tian Mingfei turns a bright smile onto him, almost blindingly cheerful. "So! What do you think of Chief Batu?"

He stinks. He's rude and barbaric. He's annoying. "He seems like he knows what he's doing," is what Zhou Cheng actually says. Chief Batu has done nothing to earn his ire except be a little too forward in his manner, and Zhou Cheng cannot actually hate someone for that.

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"He should. He's been guiding his family along this route since before we were born!"

He didn't seem that old, although the reference to 'family' makes Zhou Cheng nearly double take. Are they… all his 'family'? There's twenty odd people, at minimum! How can one man have such a large family? Zhou Cheng's own family consisted only of himself, his mother, and his uncle until he came to the Sect! "Do you know him?"

At that, she nods. "Distantly. I remember him guiding my mother and I many years ago. I'm surprised he remembers me - but really, I think he remembers my mother. He said she was 'impossible to forget'."

There is probably an appropriate response to this, but whatever it is, it's not something Zhou Cheng knows. "I… see." He doesn't, but nobody has called him out on it yet.

For a moment, he thinks Tian Mingfei will be the first, but she only gives him a sideways glance. "We are in very safe hands though," she continues, "Chief Batu is, as I said, very experienced. He knows these Deserts better than anyone, I would wager. So long as we listen to him, we are sure to be fine."

That is not really something Zhou Cheng is all that concerned with. "The sooner this is over, the better. If listening to him makes it faster, then I will listen to whatever he says."

"Don't worry," Tian Mingfei adds brightly, "This will all pass soon enough, and it'll be an interesting story you can tell Hei Lian!"

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The beasts, he learns, are known as 'camels'. It is… a strange experience, being nestled between their humps. He's not used to riding any kind of animal, let alone one such as this, but he endures it because he must, just as he endures wearing their strange clothes instead of his own. Although the latter is truly less an ordeal than just a new and uncomfortable experience.

Tian Mingfei explains it will be much more comfortable in the desert heat, and he believes her - Kong Meiling steadfastly refuses, of course, because to be wearing anything less than her dresses is unconscionable. She must project her image at all times, although Zhou Cheng has never really understood her reasoning for it. It is her burden to bear, and he has no opinion on it. If she wishes to endure the heat, then she will just have to endure it. As a Cultivator within the Foundation Establishment stage, the desert what should be nothing to her.

Although given that she cultivates a Snow-type technique, it is likely to make things more burdensome but it was never his idea to invite her along, so it is hardly his problem.

The train of camels marches along the desert, single file. They are given a position of 'honour', near the front, but frankly, Zhou Cheng cannot see what is particularly honourable about any position in the train. Front, back, in the middle, it's not as though he can smell anything other than camel and the view is pretty much the same coming or going.

At least the Desert is beautiful. The sands are bright and vivid, and as they march, Chief Batu cheerfully explains the differences. Each colour is associated with different creatures and some even possess mystical qualities.

The pastel pink sands they are currently crossing are safe, and not particularly valuable - but they are an edible formation of salt, apparently, something Batu proves by offering him a small pinch to taste.

It tastes… like salt. Perhaps Hei Lian would appreciate it, but as far as Zhou Cheng can tell, it is just salt. He was hoping that the different colour would mean it would at least convey a different taste, but no.

They camp at the edge of the patch of pink, on the side of it where it bleeds into an almost violent orange - for half a moment, he expects this new stretch to taste of turmeric, or some other spice, but no. It is just sand. Very fine sand, it must be said, with grains so small they seem almost powdery, and Batu cheerfully informs him to be very careful and mind his step in this section of Desert. Where possible, they should stick to the rivers and streaks of other colours.

"The Orange Sands," he explains as they set up a camp fire, "are home to a number of burrowing creatures - worms, lizards, insects. All very large, yes, but none of which are particularly interested in the surface - so we are safe from them. Unfortunately, their tunnels, we are not."

One of the tribeswomen - one who looks distinctly like Batu himself, large and round, with a squashed face - is preparing a pot of… some kind of stew. It has a distinctly pungent aroma as well, but it is at least something that smells appetizing. Certainly more so than the crumbly white and pale yellow things others are bringing out to eat.

"We will have to move carefully to avoid falling into their tunnels. They can be unstable at times, you see - and when they collapse, they collapse. Fwoosh." He motions with his hands to demonstrate, although Zhou Cheng cannot say he demonstrates anything beyond a vague sense of something going down.

"Li upon li of tunnels can collapse at once - and if you are falling into them as they do, you are likely to be buried! It is not very fun, I tell you. For a Cultivator, I am sure you will be fine - camel, not so much. We will tie ropes on everyone for safety, but the real danger is once you are underground, you are food for burrowers. They do not like the surface - too hot. But deep in sand? Fair game."

Watch his step, don't fall into the tunnels. He can manage that. "Thank you for the warning, Chief Batu."

"Now, let us eat, yes? Yes!" At his gesture, the tribeswoman hands him a bowl laden with the stew - it is mostly meat, as far as he can tell, with some thick noodles.

The flavour is strong and salty, and he cannot place the meat - strangely oily and slippery, but tender and soft, despite it's slightly off-putting gray colouring. It is still leagues better than anything he has eaten in the past few years, despite his position, and before he can even question himself, the bowl is empty, leaving him staring at the final droplets of broth and wondering what just happened.

Chief Batu just guffaws heartily. "So hungry! Saran, another bowl for our guest!"

"Thank you," he mumbles, remembering his manners a little too late. Batu and his… daughter(?) don't seem the least bit offended. She gives him a bright smile and for a moment he's reminded of Hei Lian - the thought makes him almost crack the bowl before he catches himself. The thought that he should be here, to taste this is inescapable. "This recipe - may I know what it is?"

"It is noodle stew," the Chief's daughter explains, and her voice is at least a little accented unlike her father's, "The meat we are using is from the Dune Digger. Two Colour Carrot, Violet Yam and Gold Desert Shallot, chopped and peeled. Make stock from Digger shell, then boil together everything."

Dune Diggers… he has no idea what those are. They taste nice enough though, so perhaps he will have to find them. He commits the recipe to memory regardless, simple as it is.

"Ah, lucky! You have the Digger shell!" Batu declares, peering at his bowl.

Zhou Cheng follows his gaze, unsure of what to expect… and taps the conical shell with his chopsticks. It's… a snail? He blinks quietly, and then shrugs to himself. It's not the strangest thing he's eaten, and it'd be rude to stop eating just because he was surprised at the contents.

"Then perhaps we will have a smooth journey," he says simply, eyeing the shell as it sits between his chopsticks. After a moment, he decides to take a chance and bites down on it. There's a satisfying crunch between his teeth, although it is a little crunchy to be truly enjoyable for him.

After a moment, he realises everyone is staring at him silently. "... Ah, my friend, you are not… Digger Shells are not for eating. Usually. I suppose they can be. But it is like a bone, yes?"

… Well, that would've been nice to know before he ate it. Still, he doesn't let his embarrassment show and simply lifts another piece of snail meat up. "It's not bad. Little crunchy," is all he says.

Batu stares at him for a long moment, and then guffaws again. "You are a good one, my friend! Eat up, eat up. It will be a long journey tomorrow!"