The World Is a Monument

The mountain collapsed. In the 212th year of the Qin lunar calendar, Li Yue, the third martial king in the world, died in battle at Shanhaiguan. The mountain that had suppressed the world for eighteen years suddenly collapsed. The news swept across the world like a hurricane: in Yingdu, Western Chu, the silent King Zhao in blue changed into a python robe and opened the dusty palace gate; in the Yingdu capital of Western Chu, a fairy in white clothes unstained by dust and smoke carried a sword, riding a crane and pointed directly at Xianyang; and far away in Baijia Village on the border of Western Chu, a Wang family carriage with a "" flag hanging, crushed the tranquility of the valley. The carriage stopped in front of a small dilapidated courtyard at the end of the village. The woman in phoenix robes and her young son knelt on the rammed earth and called "Father" to the old farmer smoking dry cigarettes. Until now, Li Xiaozui, a young man who had only known running wildly in the mountains and messing around with bandits for sixteen years, was forced to face that unfamiliar term head-on. He knelt on the loess and shouted "Mother" for the first time in his life to the noble woman. Grandpa blew his pipe and left only two sentences: "She is your mother, protect her." "Go to Beimang and bring your father's body back." So, the young man picked up the black sandalwood coiled dragon stick and led his second uncle, who was stupid but capable of carrying the cauldron, out of the mountain. He doesn't know that his father Li Yue is a name that makes the world fear him, and he is also a man who dreams of having a family. The mountain has overturned, and the storm gathering from all directions is about to engulf everything. And what he stepped into was a world that was boiling over again due to the death of one person - the aging world.