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Soldiers in bright armor, green fields of wheat seedlings, nettles climbing over stone walls, and roses beside farmhouses. This is the Middle Ages. When the horn blew the dawn in the fields; when the warriors picked up and raised the broken battle flag; when the farmers shed tears and watched the land being burned. Troubled times began. This is a time of suffering, this is a time of heroes. After witnessing the horror of war, the first-generation lord chose to recuperate in the valley and create a paradise. He called himself the lord on the other side of the mountain; Bored by his family, the second-generation lord left his hometown by chance. When the big time comes, where will he go? How will "I" who record all this continue to write the legend of my father's generation! Should we draw our swords and rise up, or turn our swords into plowshares? This is the century-long tragedy of three generations of lords. On the other side of the mountain, the lords struggled with the reincarnation of their own destiny. This is the story of ordinary people, and this is the story waiting for you to create miracles. Welcome to join the discussion group: 128600538, "The Lord Beyond the Mountain" looks forward to your attention!