Gold Lead

An old gold thread stained with blood, and a Jiaoweiqin mute with the sound of killing. In the late autumn of Luoshui City, a sickly man in a wheelchair coughed up blood and played the harp, burning grain for thousands of miles. The golden thread hanging in the air at the top of the city trembled slightly with the smoke of the medicine, scaring away thousands of cavalry, but no one knew that his wrist bones were cracked and his life was like a candle. "The gold thread melted, and farm tools were broken... Divided into farmers' households..." "The Jiaowei Qin... Given to the world... I wish to hear the clear and peaceful sound..." Ten years after the soul of the young master passed away, a plague tore through Luoshui City. When the official warehouse was exhausted and the bullies sealed the doors, the desperate women and children used their fingers as knives to scrape off the hidden gold from the blades of ancestral farm tools—— Is that the life-saving mineral powder Luo Qingli buried in Fan Tie? "Scrape the gold to save the bride!" The rustling sound, mixed with coughing up blood and crying, resounded throughout the Purgatory River Beach. When the dust-covered suicide note appeared, the truth soaked in blood and tears came to my mind like thunder: What he seeks is never medicine, stone or gold powder! It is the human heart that is not yet dead in the abyss, the breath that can gather sand into a tower in desperate situations! The "Golden Thread Society" rose from the dead, with masked guards holding bamboo spears guarding the road to survival, and the blood-stained account books forged the "Epidemic Prevention Laws and Orders". On the newly cultivated slopes, old farmer Zhao Shitou's old sickle blade has a slight gold flow on the edge, digging up the spring mud. In the Qingyin Pavilion warehouse, the young bird accidentally entered and unintentionally plucked the ice string—— "Zheng!" A wisp of clear and simple sound came out through the eaves, echoing the crisp sound of bamboo joints in the east of the city, and blended into the smoke from thousands of homes. The sick bones seek the world, and the embers of fire warm the mountains and rivers. See how the unparalleled young master Luo Qingli uses his body to fuel two huge fatal games; A golden thread serves as a guide, and eventually it turns into a string and chants the clear sound into the world. (Jiao Wei Qin × gold thread buckle, narrative of artifacts; the weak, the beautiful, the strong and miserable × the righteousness of the family and the country; self-rescue × institutional inheritance) Intention: Utensils have spirits, and people's hearts are like fire. The melting plow of golden thread can plow the frozen soil in troubled times, and the lingering sound of the burnt tail finally calls for peace in the world. The body will be reduced to ashes, but the spark will never be extinguished.