He opened his eyes among the dead.
His left arm was broken, his water bag was empty, and his mouth was filled with his own blood. There were only charred flags, rotting corpses, and an arrow that shot through his shoulder - that was left by his own "comrade".
Three days ago, the entire Zuofeng Battalion of the Mojia Army was wiped out.
Three days later, a chief named Shen Ze crawled out of the rubble. But he is no longer the original Shen Ze - in his body lives a soul from the 21st century.
There was no system prompt, no golden-fingered old man, and no one told him "Welcome to a different world."
What he faced was: the encirclement and suppression of three thousand enemy cavalry, the remnants of a defeated army, a fortress with only three days of rations left, and a commander who was colder than the Gobi wind and snow - Mo Zhengyuan.
Mo Zhengyuan said: "Heishui City belongs to us, so we defend it. Not because we can defend it, but because we must defend it."
Shen Ze said: "I just want to live."
But he soon discovered that in this Mobei, where the jungle is strong and the jungle is strong, living is a war in itself.
It took him seven months to go from a wounded soldier who was shirtless and was regarded as a madman when he was signaling, to the youngest scout of the Mojia Army; from an "outsider" who was questioned by everyone, to a ghost on the battlefield who made the enemy afraid.
The woman he wants to marry is the strongest wind on the commercial road in Blackwater City.
Her name is He Lanci. She said she would not marry a general, but only a man who could defeat her.
Shen Ze smiled and drew his sword.
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