The ancient wind swept the yellow sand, passing over the continuous mud houses and dry river beds. The smoke in the settlements is getting thinner and thinner, the prey in the mountains and forests are running farther and farther away, and the turbid water is soaked with the anxiety and despair of survival. The elders occupy the deepest caves and the most abundant food reserves, using ancient rules as a cloak for exploitation; the young and middle-aged men fight for half a piece of animal meat with fists, carving the law of the weak into their bones; the old, weak, women and children huddle in the corners of the drafty earth huts, and can only wait for the unknown tomorrow.
There is no protection from gods, no adventure, only the naked law of survival that governs everything. In order to survive, some people betrayed their fellow tribesmen, some surrendered to power and survived, and some held on to a bottom line in desperate situations, only to be beaten to death by reality. Outside the settlement, there are dense forests surrounded by tigers and wolves and foreign races coveting resources; inside the settlement, there are layers of exploitation and oppression and silent sinking.
Here, kindness is a useless burden, fairness is an illusion of nothingness, and everyone is struggling in the barren land and the darkness of human nature. The weight of survival crushed too much dignity, and those souls who were unwilling to sink tried to find a way out in the yellow sand and blood, but in the end they could not escape the shackles of the times and the cruelty of the environment, leaving only a humble cry drowned by the wind and sand.
