About This Novel
I had a dream when I was young. In my distant past life, I was a young general who died on the battlefield in the west. The strange thing is that I have had this dream many times. The scene was neither very clear nor blurry. It was on a Gobi desert, with thousands of troops and horses fighting together. I rode a dark-colored war horse, held a spear, and led the soldiers to charge here and there. In the end, I was the only one left, surrounded by enemies. Although he fought hard, he still couldn't break out, and was finally shot and fell from his horse. And he was shot twice in the stomach, left and right. I didn't feel any pain, I just fell to the ground like cotton. The moment I fell from my horse, I saw corpses scattered everywhere. Then a strong wind passed by, and the land became empty, leaving me lying there alone, with the dark horse still guarding me... Obviously, this was a heroic dream. I don't know whether it's because I was particularly fond of frontier poems when I was young, or because my hometown of Xuzhou is an ancient battlefield, and the memory of the war is integrated into every young man's blood.
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