He Yeran was demoted to the frontier, covered with frost and snow, and his heart was ashen; Qi Liaoyuan was ordered to be imprisoned, and his sword was sharp, but he heard the war hymn of his motherland whispered in the night wind. That night, no one was waiting at the beacon tower. He Yeran lit the flames with his own hands. The flames soared into the sky, not to ask for help, but to declare that he would use his own body to lead and burn away the hypocritical tranquility of the court. Qi Liaoyuan drew his sword and was about to kill, but in the firelight he saw that his eyes were burning with a loyalty that was more blazing than his own. Since then, the fate of the two has been entangled in the beacon smoke. One is willing to die, the other is difficult to kill. The border is no longer just desolate, but a battlefield where heroes confront each other.
