A Shot at Death's Door

In the sixth year of the Republic, in Fufeng, Shaanxi, the loess plateau cracked beneath the sun as harsh taxes and the ravages of war dragged on. Qiang Sanwa was born into this land of suffering, the son of tenant farmers. From childhood, he was quiet and unassuming, stubborn in his convictions, grateful to those who helped him, and devoted to his homeland.

The loess raised him, famine hardened him, and war tore the countryside apart. He lost his mother as a boy and scratched out a living on the plateau alongside his father. He saw defeated soldiers plunder and neighbors forced to flee. All he wanted was a peaceful life on a few rented acres, but in these troubled times, danger pressed in from every side. The land was in turmoil, and peace was nowhere to be found.

As flames of war rose everywhere, he put down his hoe and took up a rifle, leaving the loess of Guanzhong for the battlefields of northern Jiangxi. Smoke, bloody battles, and injuries came one after another, while his comrades fell around him one by one.

With the position in ruins and his body drenched in blood, Qiang Sanwa lay at death's door. Summoning the last of his strength, he pulled the trigger of his Hanyang rifle. He fired not for fame or glory, but to defend the homeland in Fufeng that he held in his heart, and to honor his mother's last charge: never forget where you come from.

A tragic ballad of an ordinary soldier in a world at war. No golden finger, no transmigration, just a son of the loess giving his life for his country.