In the second year of Xiangxing, Yashan.
The last fleet of the Southern Song Dynasty was locked at sea by iron cables, the fresh water was exhausted, and the Yuan army was surrounded.
Nineteen-year-old Weiyang blacksmith Chen Qi stood at the bow of the boat, hiding a pair of Niangna cloth shoes in his arms - for long walks.
He didn't know that he would be the one among 100,000 people to survive.
Little did he know that he would live silently to the age of ninety-nine, give birth to children, and bury his bones.
Little did he know that his grandson would be called Zhu Yuanzhang in the future.
He only knew that the moment he fell into the water, the sea surface was red - exactly the same as the sunset on the day he left home.
