Time galloped like a fine steed under the crack of a whip; time flowed away like fallen flowers carried off by a stream.
In the blink of an eye, summer gave way to autumn, and autumn to winter.
By then, the Northern Border had frozen for ten thousand li, transformed into a vast, snow-white kingdom.
A creaking wooden cart carried a troop of soldiers southward. Among them sat a young man who looked barely over twenty, staring at the ever-shrinking Great Wall of Righteous Qi as tears slowly welled in his eyes.
"Boy, what are you crying for?" A middle-aged man slapped the young man on the back of the head. "You're going home. You can get yourself a wife now. Aren't you happy?"
The young man turned around and looked at the middle-aged man who had struck him. He opened and closed his mouth.
The man was his father's comrade-in-arms. During the previous great battle, he had sacrificed an arm to save the young man. Even now, that empty sleeve fluttered in the northern wind.
"Uncle Liu, are we not going to fight anymore?"
"Hey, Barbarian City is gone, and the barbarians have been wiped out. What's left to fight?" said another dark-faced middle-aged man. "Over the past few months, most of the Great Wall of Righteous Qi's garrison has already withdrawn. I reckon the rest will be gone soon."
Hearing this, Uncle Liu sighed as well. He then looked toward the dark-faced middle-aged man. "Squad Leader Zhang, are we really going to put away our weapons and let our warhorses graze in the southern mountains?"
"What else can we do?" Squad Leader Zhang muttered. "The barbarians are gone..."
"You didn't see that seven-colored giant from Mount Fangcun? From what we've heard, Martial Ancestor intends to cut off the