"Hold on to the rope!" With a powerful shout, the young mistress gripped the rope tightly and simultaneously grabbed hold of Liang Haoming’s arm. Her actions made the usually stolid man grow tense as well. The wind howled furiously. Not far away, Hulan let out a terrified "Waah!" almost bursting into tears, "Tu Tu Tu... Tu Ya, it’s a sandstorm, a sandstorm!" Clutching Tu Ya’s arm with all her strength, Hulan’s face was as white as a sheet. Sandstorms in the Desert were like maritime disasters—unpredictable and often lethal. This one was unprecedented, its scale colossal, and from the distant sky, one could even see a massive tornado forming. The tornado swept across the land, raising clouds of dust high into the sky. Nighttime in the desert was exceedingly cold, but sweat was dripping down Tu Ya’s face, "Run, run fast!" It was a race against death itself. Hulan’s legs had turned to jelly from fear. Though Tu Ya was somewhat spoiled and willful, she was known to be loyal. She hoisted Hulan onto the horse’s back and looked at the others in the group, "Let’s go, keep moving forward!" At Tu Ya’s command, she led everyone to flee, but the camels moved too slow, even slower than humans on foot. "No, we have to run!" They mounted the camels and then jumped off, toiling through the ordeal, and just then, the immense tornado... had arrived. The young mistress crawled out from under the sand and heard someone shouting for help. Looking up, she saw Hong Xiangjun buried up to her chest in the sand, only her head, shoulders, and two arms visible. She shook her head with a smile and ran over, "Didn’t I tell you to hold on to the rope?" Look, you’re dozens of meters away. Hong Xiangjun was at a loss for words, "Who would’ve thought a sandstorm would really hit? And look at my hands! They’re all scraped up. Next time something happens, I think you might as well tie the rope around me!" "Hmm, I think that’s a good idea." Little Sister Dong, you better confess! Who taught you to be so cunning? Heaven have mercy, I was only joking! It seems tying the rope around oneself might indeed be safe? In any case, the young girl yanked Hong Xiangjun out of the sand like uprooting a radish. Looking down at her feet, Hong Xiangjun realized she was barefoot in one, having lost a shoe. She couldn’t tell if it was lost while being pulled out or during the earlier sandstorm. But all in all, as long as people were safe, that was what mattered! "Where’s your SiLang?" Dong Huiying slapped her forehead, having nearly forgotten about Lao Si! She hurried back and began to dig through the sand, unearthing Lao Si, who was wrapped in a blanket. "He hit his head just a moment ago, but it’s not serious. He should wake up soon." True to her words, it wasn’t long before the young mistress held a sniff bottle under his nose. The scent from the sniff bottle was strong and pungent, rousing the man from his unconscious state. "Mistress—" In the instant he woke up, he embraced her in a firm hug, holding her tightly. His heart pounded fiercely, evidence of his prior terror. Men who lived upon the black earth seldom encountered such dread-inspiring natural disasters. The memory of the storm’s ferocity was still enough to send chills through him. The young mistress let him hold her quietly, and after a while, she reached out her small hand and gently patted his head, "Pat pat the fur, don’t be scared; pat pat the ears, only scared for a while... See? I’m perfectly fine, aren’t I?"