Yang Feng stood on the Yanmenguan city wall for ten years. The spring breeze is biting, and the setting sun pulls the shadow into a knife. The masonry underfoot is full of pits and scars from cuts and arrows. The Xianbei people and the Wuhuan people came whenever they wanted, burning down houses, grabbing food, and ruining women. The imperial court doesn't care about the life and death of the frontier, so I will defend it myself.
