The Turbulent Northern and Southern Dynasties: From the Start, I Became Gao Huan's Sidekick

When I woke up, I had become Wang Hui, a military household member in Huaishuo Town of Northern Wei who was on the verge of starving to death.

The fifth year of Zhengguang. The northern frontier was bitterly cold, the Rouran were raiding the border, and the Six Garrisons were in turmoil.

Poluohan Baling had just raised the banner of rebellion, and the frontier garrisons were about to become a sea of blood.

As for me, all I had left in my memory were vague scraps of history from my high school textbook.

To stay alive, I could only set my sights on Gao Huan, the company commander silently sharpening his knife beneath the city wall.

"Big brother, I'm with you!"

From then on, dragging this frail body along, I followed the future warlord on a bloody road from which there was no turning back.

From the mountains of corpses and seas of blood at Huaishuo's walls to the humiliation of Wuyuan's fall;

from the purgatory of wandering through Hebei to lying low in Jinyang, Bingzhou;

I stayed by his side, witnessing Erzhu Rong's rise, seeing the infighting in Luoyang's imperial palace, and experiencing firsthand the Northern Wei dynasty's final cries as it was torn apart between the Han and Hu peoples.

In troubled times, a human life is worth less than a dog's.

All I want is to survive and, while I'm at it, cling to the biggest and strongest leg around.

Until one day, Erzhu Rong pointed to the untamable "Black Cloud Colt" and said to Gao Huan:

"Tame it, and I'll give you and your brothers a chance to live."

Gao Huan unbuckled his saber. I silently tightened my grip on my bow.

I knew the wheels of history were rumbling heavily beneath our feet.