Returning After Three Years of Wind and Snow

In the third year since the founding of the Daheng Dynasty, the Beidi cavalry invaded the south and defeated twelve cities in a row, and their troops were directed towards Linjiang City. Yan Changyuan, the general of Zhenbei, had guarded the border for more than ten years, but in Xiangyang... No, he was imprisoned by an imperial edict at the head of Linjiang City - charged with collaborating with the enemy and betraying the country. Three days later, the whole family was asking for help. His only son, Yan, did not return. In the past, he was the number one young general in Daheng. His martial arts skills were revoked in public and he was demoted to a commoner. Three years later, in the tavern at Fengxue Ferry, Yan Bugui was a drunkard who could be bullied by everyone. Imperial envoys ransacked his home, humiliated him with hawks and dogs, and Beidi assassins took his life every night - he was drunk and had his face trampled on by others. Until that day, the confidants of Quan Ding, the grand master of the dynasty, read out "irrefutable evidence of collaborating with the enemy" in public and wanted to behead him and sacrifice him to the flag. Yan Bugui drew his sword while drunk, and broke the imperial envoy's saber with one blow. Everyone was shocked. "I'm not useless," he said, "I'm waiting." What are you waiting for? Waiting for the name of the enemy who killed his father to leak out from the mouth of the eagle dog. Waiting for the suicide note left by my father to become hot on the bottom of the wine pot. Wait for his last words - "If you want to avenge your father, you must first defend this city." Yan Bugui carried the broken sword and headed north to Linjiang. In the front, there were hundreds of thousands of cavalry defeated by Helian, the Beidi war god, and in the back, there was the thousand-mile pursuit by Quan Ding, the grand master of the dynasty. In the city, there were also old friends who were under house arrest, an isolated city that had been without food for three months, and an account book of collaboration with the enemy that could make the entire court kneel down. This time, the prodigal son returned to the city not for the righteousness of his family and country, but for the incense stick in front of his father's grave, for the wronged souls of his three hundred brothers, and for the woman who shielded him from the knife.