The Last Generation of Miao Kings

The spring of 1950 came earlier than in previous years. The snow on Leigong Mountain has not yet melted, but the cherry blossoms at the foot of the mountain have already bloomed. Long Yanshan stood in front of the sacrificial altar, holding a bowl of rice wine in his hand and slowly spilling it onto the ground. The aroma of wine mixed with morning mist floats over the Miao village. There were more than 300 tribesmen kneeling around them. No one spoke, only the sound of the wind rustling through the leaves. Long Yanshan is thirty-eight years old, but he looks older than his actual age. There are lines carved by wind and frost on his face, and his eyes are as deep as the pools in this mountain. He wore an indigo cardigan and a silver earring on his left ear, which shone coldly in the morning light. This is the position of Miao King that has been passed down for seventeen generations in the Long family. It is the last generation that has been passed down to him. But he doesn't know This novel and its characters are purely fictitious. Any similarity is purely coincidental and should not be imitated.