In the last years of Dajing, the government was corrupt and the northern border was in ruins.
The barbarian cavalry stepped on the border every year, and their bones were exposed in the battlefield thousands of miles away.
Shen Mu was just a speck of dust in troubled times. His hometown suffered a disaster, and his parents starved to death. He joined the army for a piece of food to survive, and became the lowest-ranking border garrison in Dajing.
No food, no armor, no help, no home.
The veterans bullied him, his superiors fled, his colleagues died violently, and the court ignored him.
He picked up his life among the corpses, survived in the cold snow, and fought to the death on the lonely city.
I saw with my own eyes the bones of young people buried, the souls of old soldiers broken, and the people displaced. The thoughts of the past were frozen one by one in the snow in the north.
One general has accomplished so much that thousands of bones have withered, and no one has returned from the battlefield.
He does not want to be a prince, nor does he want to serve the country, he just wants to live like a knife that refuses to be broken in this chaotic world of cannibalism.
Climbing up from a mountain of corpses and a sea of blood, starting as an abandoned son and a lonely soldier, guarding an isolated city and protecting a group of remnant people, using flesh and blood as a shield and withered bones as a foundation.
The wind and snow do not cool the blood, and a lonely city does not bury loyal bones.
This is the life of a low-level garrison soldier, struggling in despair and standing upright in desolation.
Thousands of miles to the north, thousands of miles of lonely graves, a single garrison soldier, never to return in his life.
