Having traveled through time, there is no system, no golden fingers, and not even a decent shovel.
Shen Mingyuan, an ordinary young man studying food engineering, was thrown into the Five Hus and Sixteen Kingdoms because of a broken chair with a broken leg.
There are refugees everywhere and everything is devastated. The Xiongnu, Xianbei, Jie, Di, Qiang, the five fingers crushed the Central Plains to pieces. The broken city he was in had a population of 437, of which less than 70 were capable of fighting - most of them were old men.
Horse thieves came every now and then to steal grain, and Hou Zhao's butcher's knife might fall at any time.
What to do?
——Burning bricks.
——Salt production.
——Building city walls.
——Pretending to be a fairy.
He fired the first brick with half-knowledge of chemistry, boiled the first pinch of salt with Suaeda grass on the river beach, deceived the local boss with a random feng shui meal, and was regarded as a god from the sky.
But he knew in his heart: bricks are made from mud, salt is made from weeds, and gods are just fake. Even the piece of coal that he kept in his pocket as a treasure was picked up from the river beach by a lame mason.
This is the story of a group of old, weak, sick and disabled people building a city from scratch in the troubled times of 1,600 years ago.
There is no system clanking, no golden fingers opening and closing. There is only a mouth, a pair of hands, a head from 1,600 years later, and some outdated knowledge that I don't know if it can be put to use.
And - the hole that will never be filled.
