Eight million taels of military pay and half a roll of treason rolls were locked in an iron box that required five jade tokens to open. The imperial court of Dayin threw down this bloody bait and scattered the jade tablets into the south of the Yangtze River, attracting all the heroes from the world to fight. The four major aristocratic families in the south of the Yangtze River are busy sharpening their knives, thinking that this is a stepping stone for them to reach the sky.
Until that snowy night on the eighteenth day of the twelfth lunar month.
The man who was regarded by the world as "the remnant of the frontier army", carrying a thin-skinned coffin and a broken knife with a curled blade, kicked open the door of Jiangnan Wulin.
His name is Lu Chen. He doesn't know the profound internal skills of sword art, he only knows the killing skills of crawling around among the dead. He didn't want to compete for the eight million taels of wealth. He just wanted the high-ranking big shots to kneel and kowtow in front of the memorial tablet of thirty thousand innocent souls at the border gate.
He is not here to seek wealth, he is here to die.
