[No mindless protagonist] [Water Margin] [Power struggles] [Conquest] [True to the original]
At the foot of Shaohua Mountain, Qin Yue opens his eyes and finds himself caught in a night battle.
His father, a patrol inspector, is surrounded and killed. With his dying breath, he can only manage to hand Qin Yue an oilcloth bundle. Qin Yue nearly dies at the bottom of the river as well.
After he wakes, a black stele appears in his dreams.
The stele teaches him martial arts. Any fist technique, footwork, swordplay, or spear technique he has seen during the day can be practiced countless times before the stele in his dreams.
Others may train hard for ten years without mastering the basics. He can grasp them in one night and perfect them in a few more.
Spears, staves, swords, sabers, fist and foot techniques, archery, and horsemanship: he intends to become second to none in every one of the eighteen martial arts.
At this point, Lin Chong has yet to blunder into the White Tiger Hall, Wu Song has yet to become a god of war among men, and Liangshan is still home to no more than a few fools: Wang Lun, Du Qian, and Song Wan. The heroes have not yet gathered, and the tide has not yet turned.
Since Qin Yue has been given a second chance at life, he cannot waste it.
He will not only uncover the truth behind the ambush that night and avenge his father's murder, but also take advantage of the calm before the chaos to use the rotten shell of the Great Song to secure the means to survive.
Shi Jin: “What kind of timely savior is that bird Song Jiang? If you ask me, when it comes to loyalty, no one can compare to my brother!”
Lu Zhishen: “I only recognize Erlang. What do Song Gongming and His Majesty Zhao have to do with me?”
At that time, in Liangshan's Hall of Gathering Righteousness, Wu Yong held a register of names in his hands, his brows knitted tightly.
“Brother, all those heroes we've been asking about for ages have gone to that Qin Erlang.”
Li Kui's eyes widened. He snatched up his battle-axes and shouted, “Iron Ox will go down the mountain and chop that bastard to pieces!”
The wine cup in Song Jiang's hand wobbled, spilling half its contents onto his lapel.
Only after a long while did he sigh, “If Qin Erlang was born, why was I, Song Gongming, born too?”
Let me give you 5 stars for encouragement. The author writes very carefully and his skills are not lacking. If I don't switch to AI in the future, I will continue to pursue it.
I've just read a dozen chapters. Anyway, this beginning is pretty good. I'll continue to read more slowly.