Soul of the Armor

(No formulas, no System, no mindless decisions, no harem, no face-slapping, no wish fulfillment, no invincibility, no golden finger. Slow-paced, full of foreshadowing, and a slow burn.)

Too much wisdom brings sorrow; deep love shortens life.

Talent that outstrips one's ambition makes even heroes bow.

The jianghu is full of fighting and killing, but also human affairs and worldly wisdom.

Every clash and bloodshed is a product of political struggle.

For over three hundred years, rival factions have tangled and fought: barbarian tribes raiding south, Northern Liang sweeping across the continent, the Southern Federation bent on a northern campaign, and Ligu holding on to a corner of the realm.

One group takes the stage, then another: the Chishan bandits, bent on rebellion; the Tuoba clan, secretly seizing power; Yuwen Xiong, bent on purging the court; the Eastern Depot guards, stirring up trouble in the shadows; and Fang Chang, who refuses to fall in line.

Conspiracies, betrayal, fathers and sons suspecting one another, brothers at odds, killing one's wife to win a marriage, kin slaughtering kin...

Political power is like a prostitute: everyone knows it's filthy and corrupt, yet someone always wants a turn.

The realm is a painted landscape, and generation after generation of heroes and tyrants keep acting out the same story, repeating the same fate.

As the saying goes: “The Qin people had no time to mourn themselves, so later generations mourned them. If later generations mourn them without learning from their mistakes, they will only leave future generations to mourn them in turn.”

A sorrow that has lasted through the ages,

The rise and fall of dynasties,

Only leave behind traces to mourn.