At the end of 183 AD, before the Yellow Turban Rebellion broke out, Luming Village in the Taihang Mountains could no longer hold on.
Of the sixty-seven people in the village, only twenty-one can hold a knife. The corn in the granary will only last ten days at most. Zhao Li was injured when he woke up. He had no household registration and no relatives. He was still an outsider who had only been in the village for three days and could be thrown off the mountain at any time.
The only thing he could rely on was a panel of unknown origin.
It can remember the sword skills Zhao Li has practiced and the mountain roads he has traveled, and can also allow him to see the direction of the enemy's attack more quickly. But it won't give him food, it won't heal his injuries, and it won't tell him who to trust. You have to practice your sword by yourself, you have to find food by yourself, and you have to win back your heart inch by inch.
Among the dead, a piece of yellow cloth with "Jia Zi" written on it was pulled out.
Zhao Li knew that real troubled times were coming.
The first thing he had to do was to let these sixty-seven people survive this winter.
