A grain of sand, a world; a leaf, its flourish and decay.
"My palm represents the past, the back of my hand, the future…" Wen Yuqing murmured to herself, standing still in this dim world.
"What a pity, I can't see the future!"
In the distance, numerous sand dunes rose; the vegetation was withered, devoid of any sign of life.
An ancient tomb stood there, without a stele, marked only by desolation and fading, dust-laden colors. Its shimmering presence seemed to transport one back to that ancient era.
Armored cavalry, iron and blood, galloping across battlefields.
That tall figure, clad in battle armor, descended like a Celestial God. His eyes, burning and fervent, blazed with a crimson glow as he charged into battle, halberd in hand.
Unspeakably invincible, countlessly victorious.
He had a resounding name: God General of the Wen Dynasty.
In that era, everyone believed it was the God General who had made Wenliang great.
