The rainy season in Yuzhang is long, so Xu Qingci headed north to Chang'an carrying the camphor wood medicine box left by his grandfather. He has a round face and a fair face, but his eyes are as stubborn as a stone. He just wants to find the ancient prescription "Nian Dong Yi Xia" that is said to be able to bring the dead back to life and continue the Xu family's medical lineage.
The scorching sun in Weinan was scorching, and Zhang Ziyi looked at his family's 10,000 acres of golden wheat fields being devoured by the flames of war. Both his father and brother died in the border disaster. He was as tall and thin as a bamboo, with scars at the corners of his eyes. He put away his childishness, grabbed his spear and rushed to the Chang'an Pioneer Camp, vowing to defend the land behind him.
Chang'an West Market is bustling with people.
Turning around, knocking over the medicine box, they also knocked into each other's lives.
He is the most inconspicuous handyman in the Imperial Medical Pavilion, and he is the most desperate young captain in the Pioneer Camp. In the afternoon under the locust tree, he taught him how to identify herbs and life and death, and he told him about wheat waves and the way home.
The fragrance of camphor wood is mixed with the smell of earth, and a gentle flower blooms in the cracks of troubled times.
Is it just that there is a way to have both peace and security in this world?
When the border was at war and the court was in chaos, the unfinished prescription failed to keep the people who wanted to stay.
"If you don't live in an imperial family in the next life, and don't serve as a border guard, but just the table-cleaning guy in your teahouse, how about that?"
The intention: to stay together in the flames of troubled times, to resist the long-term desolation with short-term tenderness, and to write a fateful tragic song about love and regret.