Great Tang: My Entire Family Was Slaughtered, So I Took in Three Hundred Orphans

In the fifteenth year of Tianbao, at Changshan.

Yan Jiming opened his eyes just as the city fell.

He had the body of the Yan family's sixteen-year-old third son, but inside was a modern man who knew how to make armor, smelt iron, and train troops.

According to the history books, he was sixteen that year. Of the Yan family's more than thirty members, only the "Draft of a Sacrificial Memorial for My Nephew" remained.

He refused to accept that.

As chaos engulfed the city, he led a group of widows, older children, and wounded veterans out of the turmoil.

No food? Boil salt and trade it for grain.

No iron? Build a furnace and smelt some.

No soldiers? Train the farmers, salt boilers, and blacksmiths, one by one.

While others fled for their lives, he took people in.

While others burned villages, he built fortresses.

Those who died upholding their honor and loyalty lost their families and homes.

Those who turned a blind eye to people in danger took credit for others' achievements and begged for titles.

He didn't rush to plead his case.

First, he fed and clothed the families of three hundred loyal martyrs, one by one, and helped them regain their spirit.

Then he turned back and settled the accounts, one by one.

Shi Siming, Cai Xide, An Lushan, and the emperor in Luoyang and the sage in Chang'an.

I, Yan Jiming, will collect this debt on behalf of my entire loyal family, principal and interest alike.

"I can no longer write this memorial."

"Because not one of the three hundred members of my Yan family can be lost."