He had no household registration, no powerful backer, and no sword that could cleave the heavens. At seventeen, he picked up a copper token marked “Three Hundred Shi” from a corpse, and from then on, he was swept into a grain-trading route that swallowed countless lives. First, he fought to get his younger sister a household registration. Then he fought to give his companions a chance to live. In the end, he would ask the whole world: Why are some people born with names, while others don’t even deserve to be recorded in the accounts after they die?
