Qidian library
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Every book we index, searchable by title, author or tag.
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Chiang Kai-Shek's Chess Strategy for the Three Kingdoms
After experiencing the Battle of Chibi, Jiang Qian entered a low point in his life, and he seemed to have become the laughing stock of history. But no one knew that Jiang Gan's story did not end there, and history also changed as a result.
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Jiang Qianzhi's Bitter Chant at Red Cliff
After a long walk, I found that the road was in a circle. Have I been on the run all these years? Why does it seem that I have lost a lot of memories and returned to the original starting point? The way I think now is so much like the kid I was ten years ago. Maybe my old things will not change with the years. My fate may have been determined long ago, and it is not much different from the original expectation. Ten years ago I wanted to write a story about Jiang Qian, because at that time I be
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Nine Steps Space
Empty, lonely, boring. Nine-step space, fantasy realm, one person's world, supernatural...
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The Dream of Three Thousand Years of Literati
This is a dream. At that time, the dream spanned thousands of years. I don't know what is true? What is fake? Who I am? Qu Yuan? Sima Qian? Tao Yuanming? Or Li Bai and Su Shi. Forget it, it doesn't matter who he is. We are in chaos in the Spring and Autumn Period, and we don't care what it is. Do whatever you want and don't know what to say.
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Mountain Missing Sundial
Exiled, mistakenly entered the Peach Blossom Land, the end of the train, Linjiang. Life travelogue.
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Huangyun Garbage Array
"How does a macho man's battle explain madness? The iron chains of devil's purgatory shackle the whole world, but it cannot restrain the free soul. Fuck! Roar to the point of hoarseness, madness to death! Love and hate! Tenderness and killing! Destruction! Destruction! Destruction! Stinky world!"
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The Yellowed Diary Tells the Time
A story within a poem, a poem within a story. Burning youth, blurred past. Tears and rain, flowers and mud. In the rainy season, flowers bloom silently. … This novel is my true experience. It is a tribute to my lost youth and a memory of those young faces... Even if one day everything will dissipate and everything that exists will turn into dust, I only hope that there is still a trace of touch that remains in the wind...
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