Say Goodbye to Distant Guests in Cold Weather

Taking the intertwined fates of Yu Jingsheng, Gu Qingling and Cheng Jinchen as the main line, it spans more than thirty years between the two Song Dynasties and writes an epic about faith, endurance and return amidst the flames of war and displacement. The story begins at Mount Emei and Renshou Ferry - Jing Sheng went up the mountain to ask for medicine to save his aunt, Qing Ling accompanied him with a medicine box, and Jin Chen asked for directions with a sword on the ring. The three of them formed a bloody alliance at the ferry crossing in Chengdu and went through troubled times together. The fire broke out in Bowangpo and the wind blew fiercely in Chibi River. They shouldered the heavy burden of their country with their mortal bodies; the miasma in Nanzhong, the frost and snow in Qishan Mountain, the defeat in Huaixi, and the bloody battle in Yancheng. Every time they stood side by side, there was an irreversible price - Qingling's palms were cold and jade, Jingsheng's right arm was stiff, and Jinchen was deaf in his left ear. After the battle at Xiaoshang River, the six souls returned to the tower, and their divine power was burned out. From then on, there was no more extraordinary in the world, only mortals continued to bear the burden and move forward. The novel describes the cruelty of war and the tenacity of faith with extremely restrained writing. Those old letters that have been rubbed repeatedly, the worn-out boots, and the layers of mud on the iron hoops have become the most tranquil witnesses of the times. On Caishiji, Yu Yunwen took over the broken arrow on his father's map and used the mathematical logic of "an infantry can travel sixty miles a day" to reignite the Northern Expedition. In the Haotian Tower, the stove fire is always warm and the fragrance of the porridge never dissipates - the end of the stay is still the stay, and the end of the smoke is still the smoke. This is a story about "continuation": continuing the arrows on the map, continuing the carvings under the frozen soil, continuing the unfinished road of a generation. The utensils will get old and the people will get old, but the direction will never be broken.