Before Jiashen

In the winter of the eleventh year of Chongzhen, Qing troops entered the pass. Zhang Tong woke up in a dilapidated temple with air leakage from all sides, with a splitting headache, blood all over his body, and a memory in his mind that did not belong to him. A sallow-looking woman, carrying a bowl of muddy water with grass roots floating in it, knelt in front of him and called him "Da Lang" in tears. There was heavy snowfall outside the temple, and flames shot into the sky in the distance. Zhang Tong looked down at his hands covered with frostbite, and then at the seven or eight hungry men, women, and children in the temple - they were all fellow villagers of this body, fleeing with him, waiting for him to lead them to survive. He touched the only hatchet on his waist. Live first. Otherwise, let's talk about surviving.