In troubled times and bad years, God punishes the world by destroying it.
The five members of the Wen family fell into this small world of dying, carrying their past life memories and supernatural powers. Her father, Wen Zhong, is a Confucian and Taoist sage, but now she can only tell good or bad luck by looking at her breath; her mother, Mo Xian, is the god of agriculture, and now she relies on her hands to breed good seeds; her eldest daughter, Wen Xi, is a successor to medicine, saving lives and healing the wounded with her memory; her eldest son, Wen Yuan, is both civilized and martial, building a home from scratch; and her youngest son, Wen Han, has a pure heart and can even whisper with birds and beasts.
They settled in a mountain village, using the mountains as a screen, hoping to open a farm and store fire.
However, there have been severe droughts for many years, streams have been cut off, fields have been cracked, and thousands of people have died of hunger. The court is tyrannical, taxes are like tigers, and rebels are like wolves. When the first batch of sallow-looking refugees knocked tremblingly on the wooden door of the farm, the Wen family looked at each other and opened the door.
From now on, the mountain farm is no longer just a refuge——
It has become a way of life for the desperate: Mo Xian's seeds sprout new sprouts in the cracked earth, Wen Zhong's formations attract light rain in the mountains, and Wen Xi's herbal medicines revive dying people.
It became a challenge to the old order: absorbing refugees, providing work relief, building canals, establishing rules, and practicing rural bravery. Xiao Yu, a down-and-out son of an aristocratic family, was reborn here, growing from a confused avenger to a sharp sword that protects his new home.
It has become the spark of civilization: making paper, running schools, teaching medical skills, passing on agricultural skills, casting ironware... While the outside world is trapped in the purgatory of exchanging children for food, here the sound of books is audible, the waves of rice are golden, and the workshops are clanging.
