The first year of Zhengyuan, April.
Left Guard General Tang Ziqian transferred to Governor of Liangzhou.
In April, Tuyuhun had just begun to feel a hint of spring, with fine grass sprouting between the fissures of rocks and sand, a sparse green stretching into the distance.
Standing on the city tower of Fusi Royal City, gazing into the distance, snow mountains and green lakes seemed to merge with the horizon.
"... I wish to station with the Young Master by Qinghai Lake, tending horses on the outskirts of King City..."
The girl's hopeful voice seemed both far away and close to the ear.
If she were still alive, what would things be like now?
Every time he thought of this, only a veil of mist remained.
"Are you unhappy?" The soft and bewildered voice of a young girl suddenly shattered the mist.
Tang Ziqian's eyes sharpened, and his short knife slid out of its sheath, darting towards the flagpole dozens of steps away.
"Hey—"
