In the eleventh year of Tianbao's reign, the Tang Dynasty's frontier fortress was like a powder keg that ignited at any moment.
The north wind was howling, and the yellow sand rolled up was all over the sky. It was like God was splashing ink blindly, and the whole world was turned into that kind of khaki color that makes people feel depressed.
On the beacon tower in Fanyang Town.
Li Po wrapped his thin border guard uniform tighter, and the biting cold wind struck his face like a knife.
He squinted his eyes and looked at the blurry mountains in the distance, feeling a fire burning in his heart.
