Burial Dao Era Lin Yue

The setting sun was like blood, shrouding Qingshi Town in a sad scarlet color. The old locust tree at the entrance of the town has stood for hundreds of years, its branches and leaves swaying feebly in the evening wind, as if lamenting the fate of this border town.​ Lin Yue leaned against the mottled earth wall, breathing rapidly. His coarse clothes were already soaked with sweat and clung tightly to his thin but strong back. The long-distance running with heavy weights that had just ended made his legs as heavy as lead, but the fire burning in his eyes did not weaken at all.