The Splendor of a Legendary General

Chen Siyao held up her phone, showing the verses on the stone wall clearly to her livestream viewers.

"A hundred battles in yellow sands wore through my golden armor; until Loulan falls, I shall not return. Frontier frost and snow stained my campaign robes; peach blossoms back home bloomed in distant dreams..." The rows of bold, powerful characters carried both a warrior's grandeur and a poet's delicacy, instantly stunning every viewer.

Yang Wanqing leaned closer and quietly read a few lines, her eyes widening. "Oh my God... these are incredible! They're even more powerful than the frontier poems in our textbooks!"

Chen Siyao's heart stirred as she read. She turned to Chen Hao, her eyes full of admiration.

General Feng really was this talented! Everything my brother said was true! Those verses—this general had a gift for both warfare and poetry!

The elderly professor was translating Feng Changqing's poetry manuscripts.

He spoke softly, his voice traveling through the livestream equipment to every viewer's ears. "These were all poems Feng Changqing wrote between campaigns.

"He spent his life fighting bloody battles. He always said that generals defended the nation, while poets left their names to posterity. Once peace came, he intended to make his name through poetry. Sadly, he never lived to see that day."

The livestream chat had already erupted. All the earlier doubts and mockery had turned into shock and reverence.

[Academic Failure]: Holy shit! These really are frontier poems lost for a thousand years! The handwriting and literary style fit the Tang Dynasty perfectly! There's no way this is fake!

[Old Lin the Poetry Lover]: Every word bleeds, every line rings true! This is the true spirit of Great Tang! General Feng Changqing's buried literary genius has finally seen the light again!

[Little Zhou the Adventure Enthusiast]: I've got goosebumps! The general excelled in both letters and arms! This is making me cry!

[Keyboard Warrior Himself]: I'm completely humbled! The harder I trashed them before, the more embarrassed I am now! This isn't scripted! It's the truth of a thousand years of history!

[Internet Apology Squad]: Everyone, apologize! This is what a meaningful livestream looks like! This is real cultural preservation!

[Little Strawberry Isn't Sour]: Her brother is amazing! He knew not only where the tomb was, but what the general wished for!

[I Am Ying Zheng]: Is Siyao's brother a feng shui master? Tracing dragon veins and reading the winding mountains, with every ridge another barrier?

The elderly professor carefully opened a wooden box in the corner. Inside lay a neatly stacked pile of silk sheets, likewise covered in poetry and exceptionally well preserved.

"These are... Feng Changqing's handwritten poetry manuscripts! The silk and the composition of the ink are all authentic Tang Dynasty materials!" The elderly professor held the silk sheets, his hands trembling uncontrollably.

"These are national treasures! They could rewrite the history of Tang Dynasty frontier poetry! They could fill every gap in the historical record of Feng Changqing's life!"

At that moment, the livestream's viewer count passed a hundred thousand, and "Feng Changqing's Poetry Revealed" shot into third place on the trending list, right behind "Streamer Discovers Thousand-Year-Old Tomb."

The screen filled with comments calling her a "goddess of positivity" and a "guardian of history," along with "her incredible brother is the GOAT." The former haters had vanished, leaving only endless praise and admiration.

[Yaoyao Is Super Sweet Today]: Yaoyao is a top-tier streamer now too! She's amazing!

[Milk Tea Without Sugar]: The mansion in Treasure Sky City is real, the thousand-year-old tomb is real, the general's poetry is real, and so is Siyao's kindness!

[History Major Who Fails]: It was because of Yaoyao that I learned about General Feng Changqing's story and fell in love with Tang poetry! This is what livestreaming should be!

[Fudan's Second-Most Handsome]: We'll have to redefine Feng Changqing. He wasn't just a general, but a poet too.

[Looks Aren't Everything]: This is so inspiring. Historical records describe Feng Changqing as short, ugly, and lame. Who knew he could not only fight battles but write such wonderful poetry?

Premium gifts poured in one after another. The donor leaderboard was filled with history professors from major universities and members of poetry associations, yet the top spot belonged to someone with a thoroughly overdramatic username: "I Am Ying Zheng"?

Watching the excitement in her livestream, Chen Siyao's eyes grew wet again, and she clasped Chen Hao's hand tightly.

From being hated across the internet to being praised by everyone, from an obscure streamer to a leading creator spreading positivity, my brother gave me all of this. I haven't just cleared my name—I've done something truly meaningful.

Feeling the warmth of his sister's hand, Chen Hao's eyes filled with a gentle smile.

His gaze finally settled on the bunch of dried cosmos flowers before Feng Changqing's tomb.

A thousand years ago, this renowned general of the Northern Frontier had defended his country, his blood staining the Gobi. Now all that remained was a mound of earth and a gray stone monument. Wind passed through the poplar grove before his grave, moaning as though history itself were sighing softly.

Chen Siyao gently linked her arm through his, while Yang Wanqing crouched nearby, curiously fiddling with the camelthorn on the ground. Having paid their respects to the great man of the past, the three young people turned toward the white SUV parked beside the road.

They had rented it for their self-drive trip through the Northern Frontier. Its tires rolled over the gravel of the Gobi as they headed deeper into the region to take in all the grandeur and gentleness of the landscapes beyond the frontier.

Chen Siyao pointed her phone out the window. "Sweeties, we've had our fill of poetry. Next, let's keep exploring the Northern Frontier General Feng wrote about."

[I Am Ying Zheng]: The Northern Frontier is even more beautiful when you see it in person. I want to see Hao.

[No Cilantro]: Show us Hao, show us Hao. He's just too handsome. I want to have his babies.

[Milk Tea Without Sugar]: Who's having babies with you? Go find yourself a monkey to breed with. Hao belongs to everyone.

[Snow Across the Sky]: Can you have some shame? Chen Hao would never be interested in you.

Chen Hao started the car, his fingers tightening slightly around the steering wheel as the scenery outside burst into view in all its overwhelming splendor.

Gone were the desolate poplars beside the tomb. In their place stretched the boundless Bayanbulak Grassland, so green it looked as though a god had spilled an entire jar of emerald across it. Soft grass covered the rolling hills, reaching all the way to where earth met sky.

The pale blue sky hung so low it seemed within reach. Great tufts of white cloud hovered overhead, drifting slowly in the wind.

Sunlight pierced the clouds, casting patches of light and shadow across the grassland like the breathing of the earth. Here and there, herds of cattle and sheep dotted the green carpet—white, black, and brown—leisurely grazing.

The distant mountains wore mantles of pure white snow that gleamed coolly in the sunlight, their pristine beauty standing in stark contrast to the grassland's vibrant life.

Chen Hao glanced out the window, his heart clear and calm. The restlessness and noise he had accumulated in the city were washed away completely beneath the vast skies of the Northern Frontier, leaving only reverence for nature and a serene acceptance of life.

He had come on a whim, never expecting the landscapes of the Western Regions, once filled with yellow sand and conflict, to possess such power to soothe the soul. A thousand years of wind and sand had passed. The great general was gone, yet the mountains and rivers remained. In this boundless world, human troubles were merely a drop in the ocean.

The car traveled slowly along the winding mountain road. As they rounded a bend, a lake suddenly appeared, set among the mountains like a sapphire—Sayram Lake, famed throughout the Northern Frontier as "the Atlantic's last teardrop."

Its waters were a pure, profound blue. Without wind, they lay still as a mirror, reflecting the sky, snowy mountains, and clouds in their entirety. Golden pasture grass and tiny wildflowers lined the shore. When the breeze stirred, ripples spread across the lake, their glittering flecks of gold so bright they dazzled the eyes.

"Hao! Stop, stop! This place is gorgeous!" Chen Siyao excitedly slapped the front passenger seat, her eyes shining like stars. "Let's get out and take some photos!"

Yang Wanqing immediately sat upright too, raising her phone and calling out, "Quick, quick, quick! The viewers are all waiting to see the scenery! Won't a shot of this blow them away?"