He died in the winter of the third year of Mogasuri. He died on the battlefields of Nanchu and Daxi.
The boy's chest was full of arrows, and the blood stained his originally shiny silver armor like splashed ink. His hand still held a sword stuck in the ground, which had been supporting him for a long time. But at this moment, he no longer had any strength to stand up. If he could have the last bit of strength, he would definitely kill another enemy with his sword.
He collapsed on the ground and felt a burst of fishy warmth. He couldn't tell whether it was his own blood or whose blood warmed the land beneath him. The north wind whizzed by, heavy snow fell, and the warmth instantly turned into the most biting cold, attacking his body one by one.
But he didn't care. He just stared into space, as if looking at someone, or just talking to himself.
He said, Greed Star, you said that I died on the battlefield like this. You don't know when the reinforcements will arrive. You don't know whether the battle will be won or not. You don't know if you have humiliated me, Nanchu, and humiliated the four words "Jianxing is destined to die".
He said, Tan Xing, this is the last time we see snow together. The snow is so beautiful, like flowers falling all over the sky.
He said, Tan Xing, such beautiful snow, it's a pity that I won't have the chance to see it again. If you have a chance in the future, please take a look at it for me.
The snow fell heavier and heavier, until it submerged the bloody world with its pure white silence, until everything was silent.
Purpose: The righteousness of family and country