In the fifteenth year of the Chongzhen reign, the Ming dynasty's fate was all but sealed, like a candle flickering in the wind. Amid the endless rain in Chaozhou Prefecture, the scholar Lin Wanlan painted the red-faced mask symbolizing the heroes of Liangshan. To the thunder of Yingge drums and gongs, he waved a short baton, believing that sheer passion could mend the heavens. Together with the brothers he had sworn loyalty to as a child, he headed north to enter government service, hoping to turn the tide amid court intrigues and the flames of war on the frontier.
Yet history rolled inexorably onward, crushing not only the realm, but the young man's spirit as well. From Lingnan's humid, rainy nights to Liaodong's bone-chilling snowstorms; from a triumphant third-place palace graduate to a white-haired general guarding a lonely city. When the heads of his former brothers were hung on the city walls, and the beloved Yingge dance could only be performed alone before their graves, he finally understood: the most despairing thing in this world is not death, but watching everything beautiful crumble before your eyes, powerless to stop it.
"Later, the history books recorded only that heavy snow blocked the mountains that year. No one knew that the young man who had once promised to bring his brothers home died on the eve of spring."
This story is entirely fictional. Its historical setting has been artistically adapted. Please do not confuse it with official history.
