There Is No Immortal in the World

The new wind is howling, and hundreds of people are lying on the ground. In the northern border of the Eastern Tang Dynasty, on the long border with the wasteland tribes, on the vast plains, it was already the beginning of autumn. The sound of horse hooves breaks, and the horse rides away. Looking from a distance, a black shadow loomed, a knight riding a horse, riding through the smoke and dust, and rolling in the afterglow of the setting sun. The setting sun shines on the lonely horse, and the horse whistles in the wind! The rider clamped the horse's belly tightly and lowered himself on the horse that was galloping with all four hooves. The horse was galloping hard, but it had no power. The knight looked very embarrassed. His dirty leather robe and long hair were trembling in the autumn wind. His dark and red face was covered with sweat. If you look closely, you can see that he is actually a half-grown child. He was carrying a long bow and a larger scimitar. The horse that had been galloping for a long time under him had foam on its mouth. Realizing that the speed of the war horse was slowing down, the knight's dark and red face couldn't help but show an anxious look. He looked back and glanced at the few streaks of smoke gradually approaching at the sunset in the distance, and the knight couldn't help but cursed secretly. "Damn horse bandit!" This novel and its characters are purely fictitious. Any similarity is purely coincidental and should not be imitated.