Chen Mo in 2026 is the most comfortable "giant baby" on the Chengdu Plain.
He is twenty-six years old, has a house and a car fully purchased by his parents, and has a leisurely job from 9 to 5. His biggest worry is that he doesn't want to go to work on Mondays, and his biggest wish is to drink the lotus root and pork ribs soup stewed by his mother on the weekends. He lived numbly, scorning the "death flag" of his ancestors in the museum, feeling that it was a betrayal of life; bragging to his friends in the bar, saying that if he traveled back to the battlefield, he would definitely be the first to throw the gun and run away.
He thought that this kind of "waste" life wrapped in love would be like the evening breeze of Jinjiang River, blowing gently forever.
Until the gears of fate turn suddenly.
When he woke up, he became a soldier of the Sichuan Army's "Death Flag" company on the Songhu battlefield in 1937. There is no Starbucks in my hand, only a rusty big knife; there is no nagging from my parents in my ears, only the deafening gunfire. The "fire stick" he once laughed at became his only reliance; the "death flag" he once looked down upon became the fate he must bear.
From the neon lights of Jiuyan Bridge to the smoke of Songhu, from "Mama's Boy" to "Predator", Chen Mo's war is not for any grand doctrine, but just for the simplest and most extravagant wish - I want to go home.
