The Empire Is Doomed. What Should We Do?

They first met at Yuehua Temple. One was a fearless young heir from a family of generals; the other was a soft-spoken, teary-eyed bookworm. He plucked him up from beside a snake, pinched his cheek, and said he wanted to “take a bite.” Years later, they met again. One was a dissolute general pretending to be mad and foolish; the other was a reserved civil official favored by the crown prince. He had forgotten the promise they made as children and saw the other only as a useful pawn, pushing him back and forth across the board of political intrigue, until he found the shadow of his childhood self buried among the case files. In the rain of Jiangnan, he kicked open the shabby door and looked at Zhang Shu, burning with fever and unconscious on the bed. For the first time, he knew what it was to feel panic. The man who never once looked back on the battlefield rode alone at a gallop for three thousand li, only to make it back in time to see him. “Brother...” Zhang Shu murmured in his dream, his voice soft as cotton soaked through with water. Lin Jianqing clasped his hand, cherishing it as precious. “It’s me. I’m here to take you home.” Two male leads · court intrigue × flames of war in a turbulent age × a love that finds its way both ways · serious tone · alternate history