Fire can burn down a palace, but it cannot burn a word.
At the end of the Yin Dynasty, Di Qi captured the capital, and three hundred years of civilization were burned to the ground. Wen Zaidao, the last descendant of the previous dynasty's history of keeping Tibet, snatched forty-two boxes of unique maps from the burned Jixian Academy and embarked on the westward journey with a narrow escape.
She thought she was saving the past, but she didn't know she was creating the future.
On her way to escape, she met a defecting general's daughter, a down-and-out scholar from a poor family, and the mysterious master of the escort agency. They built a free school in a remote area of Xichuan. Under the ginkgo tree, the sound of children reading for the first time overcame the iron hooves of the troubled times.
However, the astonishing secret vault buried by Shouzang Shi has attracted covetousness from all sides: aristocratic families want to use it to dominate the world, and the Di people and puppet dynasties want to use it to cut off the roots of civilization. The bronze talisman in Wen Zaidao's hand is the only key.
When the sword pointed at the scroll, she made the most decisive choice——
"Classics can be copied again, but civilization cannot be restarted."
From a school to a network of trade routes running from north to south;
From a few boxes of broken books to the "Xinghuo Academy" that houses all the classics in the world;
From a single woman, to a "civilized night watchman" standing behind him are farmers, industry and merchants.
She proved one thing:
The toughest weapon is not the iron cavalry, but the enlightened mind;
The strongest city is not the pass, but the support of people's hearts.
This is a war without smoke.
The opponent is time, forgetfulness, and the overthrow of the entire era.
And her only weapon is words.
"Thousands of Years" - dedicated to all those who sow seeds in the wilderness.
A million-word long historical fiction, a ten-volume epic, a majestic picture of the rebirth of civilization on the ruins.
