The fifty years of the Five Dynasties and Ten Kingdoms are a torn silk book soaked in blood, fire and tears. It was an era when order was completely broken down, rituals and music were all gone, benevolence and righteousness were gone, human life was as cheap as grass in front of the camp, and the princes of yesterday might be ghosts or prisoners today. The weather is also pushing against it, the rivers are like raging, locusts have been in drought for years, hungry people are lying on the roads, and people are eating each other. In this chaotic ruins, survival is the only morality and force is the ultimate language. And I came here with a suitcase of textbooks, vowing to make a name for myself.
