Weird Three Kingdoms

Chapter 3949: Lü Bu's Story
The north wind was like a knife, whipping up fine sand and gravel from the Gobi Desert, which struck the armor with a crackling sound.

Lu Bu reined in his horse and stood on a high slope. Behind him, three thousand riders were also stained by the wind and sand, turning into yellow and red stone sculptures, appearing and disappearing in the swirling yellow dust.

Before us lay a desolate wasteland at the border between the Later Cheshi Kingdom and the Wusun Kingdom, a scene of bleak desolation.

Lu Bu didn't understand what overgrazing was, nor did he know what soil and water conservation was, but the land in front of him was indeed desolate and chilling.

This is an instinctive fear, or rather, a worry.

It is fear and worry about the future.

The Chinese people were once a mix of nomadic and agricultural societies, but ultimately they firmly embraced an agricultural culture. It wasn't that the meat didn't taste good, but rather that nomadic life was too unstable.

They are extremely wealthy, except for animals with fur.

Throughout ancient China's long history of conflict, trade, and integration with nomadic and hunting peoples, the core Central Plains region consistently adhered to agriculture. This was partly due to the unsuitable natural conditions for large-scale nomadic life, and partly because the accumulated population, wealth, and culture of the agricultural areas meant that any group that entered the Central Plains ultimately chose to "transform the barbarians into Chinese," adopting agricultural management systems and cultural frameworks. This also demonstrates the irreplaceable ecological, economic, and social adaptability of agricultural culture in East Asia.

The area before us is a consequence of overgrazing...

The earth was a scorched brown, and the cracked saline-alkali land resembled the parched skin of a giant, with crisscrossing fissures that stretched to the bottomless depths.

In the distance, there are scattered poplars, their bark cracked, their branches twisted and pointing towards the gray sky, like arms struggling in their death throes.

Further west, the silhouette of the Tianshan Mountains, a branch of the mountain range, can be faintly seen. The mountain peaks are covered with snow all year round, but appear ethereal and distant in the thin mist.

An ancient riverbed, long since dried up, meanders by, its bed filled only with pale pebbles worn smooth by the wind, reflecting the light of yesteryear under the sun, as if mourning the tenderness that has long been lost.

Occasionally, a whirlwind would rise out of nowhere, whipping up columns of sand that looked like yellow ghosts staggering and wandering across the wilderness before vanishing in an instant.

Apart from the sound of the wind, there was only deathly silence in the world.

Lu Bu narrowed his eyes slightly, shielding them from the wind and sand.

It was the same vast desert wilderness, but it was completely different from the Jiuyuan he remembered!

Jiuyuan...

Lu Bu's thoughts were pulled by the boundless barrenness, drifting thousands of miles away to the other side of time.

That is the gentle embrace of the Yellow River, south of the Yin Mountains, where it bends in a zigzag pattern.

Jiuyuan is humid.

This is what Lü Bu misses most at this moment, and it's also the biggest difference he feels between himself and the land before him.

The soil in Jiuyuan is dark brown, saturated with moisture, soft and springy to the touch, carrying the fresh scent of grass and humus. In late spring and early summer, the meadows spread from the snowmelt wetlands to the gentle slopes, a vibrant green, dotted with various unnamed wildflowers: purple alfalfa, yellow bupleurum, and white thistle.

When the wind blows, the grass ripples and rustles, a sound that is intoxicating.

At that time, many young men and women would chase each other amidst the damp, vibrant rhythm of nature, ultimately becoming intoxicated by the endless grasslands...

The river water is different from what I'm used to.

The river here is like a dried-up ghost.

In my memory, Jiuyuan was a place where the winding streams on the grasslands were always full.

The water flow is gentle and crystal clear, allowing you to see small fish swimming among the pebbles and the water plants swaying gracefully.

Herdsmen often water their horses by the water's edge, children play, and women beat clothes with pestles, all mingling with the murmuring of the water—a vibrant and lively backdrop. The air is filled with the scent of fresh grass, the warmth of the river, and even the stench of cow and horse dung feels complex and comforting…

Unlike here, which is like scorched earth, so dry it feels like knives are tearing at your nostrils.

Oh, and there was sound too.

The world of Jiuyuan was filled with sounds...

The high-pitched calls of larks fell from the clouds, along with the low mooing of cattle and sheep, the long throat singing or short shouts of herdsmen, the muffled thud of horses' hooves on the meadow, the barking of hunting dogs beside the felt tents, and even the long howls of wolves at night under the moon...

Every sound marks a trace of life.

Here, there is only the eternal sound of the wind, monotonous and dull, like the sigh of heaven and earth slowly eroding everything.

Even the cold is completely different.

Winters in Jiuyuan are also bitterly cold, with snowstorms capable of burying felt tents.

But the cold was damp, carrying the crispness of snow; it stung my face when it touched, and only then did it numb me.

People gathered around the fire pit, drinking piping hot milk wine. The cold air was kept out by the thick leather felt, while inside was a warm and cozy atmosphere.

The cold nights here are dry and frigid, like invisible ice needles piercing through clothing and bone marrow. The starry sky hangs low, terrifyingly bright yet indifferent.

Ugh……

Lu Bu subconsciously gripped the shaft of his halberd, the coldness of the metal bringing him back to his senses.

He looked down and saw fine sand accumulating in the gaps of his armor. His warhorse paved its hooves restlessly, raising a small cloud of dust.

The faces of his men were stained yellowish-brown by the wind and sand, and their lips were chapped.

An extremely complex emotion quietly welled up in my heart.

That was not weakness, but a kind of melancholy that stemmed from one's bloodline.

He, Lü Bu, was from Jiuyuan in Bingzhou. Born on the grasslands and raised on horseback, he was accustomed to the vast sky and boundless wilderness, and to the interweaving of Huqin and Han songs.

His bravery, his arrogance, and even the ups and downs of his early life, were all imprinted by that fertile land, and bestowed upon him by the land of the grasslands and deserts...

There are distinct seasons there, and there are tribal affiliations and conflicts.

There are joyful births and sorrowful deaths.

There are visible enemies, and there are grasslands where you can roam freely.

But this place is a completely different world.

This is an endless wasteland, governed by unfamiliar rules.

The yellow sand mixed in with the cold wind seems to be burying, or perhaps polishing, all the marks from the homeland on my body.

This land tells visitors in the most direct way...

It doesn't care about any past honors or disgraces, it only focuses on the present!
Test your will, force you to adapt, or...

Heading towards destruction.

In this silence that seems to devour everything, the memories of my hometown become even clearer, so clear that they are almost painful.

He missed the greenery, the moist air, the bustling sounds of people, and even the conflicts of his homeland.

At least he was fighting against someone, at least he could wield his halberd to fight back...

But here...

The wind picked up, whipping up Lü Bu's scarlet cloak and making it flutter loudly, as if the cold wind was mocking him.

Lu Bu slowly exhaled a breath of turbid air, the slight daze in his eyes quickly fading away, replaced by a sharp, icy gaze.

Nostalgia is a luxury.

Especially for him.

My homeland is thousands of miles away, and the journey home seems uncertain.

The road ahead is nothing but blood, fire, and yellow sand.

The desolation before him was perhaps his destined whetstone, meant to grind away the last trace of restlessness and attachment in the name Lü Fengxian, forging him into a cold-blooded blade born purely for conquest.

Lu Bu suddenly jerked the reins, and his warhorse reared up, letting out a loud neigh that shattered the deathly silence of the wilderness.

"Set off!"

The calls and responses were like resounding clangs.

Three thousand iron cavalry, like a torrent merging into the yellow sand, continued their westward march, towards that unknown, perhaps even more brutal land.

All that remained was a cloud of dust, gradually obscuring the path they had come from, and burying the homesickness that had quietly risen in Lü Bu's heart, only to quickly sink away...

……

……

The upper reaches of the Chigu River, Wolf Howling Plain.

The wind whipped up sand and gravel, sweeping across the withered reeds and making a howling sound, as if thousands of wronged souls were wailing.

The snow-capped peaks of the distant mountains shimmered with a cold light under the clear sky, like a silent giant opening its eyes and looking down expectantly.

It's like a human watching two groups of ants about to fight.

Lu Bu's troops were encamped along the winding valley of the Chigu River.

The camp was rudimentary.

The cavalry's camp discipline was also forced to make certain compromises due to the circumstances.

Trees are scarce in this area, and trying to cut down trees according to the manual to build a camp would be an extremely inefficient and wasteful endeavor.

And poplar wood...

The extremely hard material and the unpredictable, twisted trunks meant that not only were the processing requirements extremely high, but it was also very difficult to obtain timber that was perfectly straight. Even though the fortifications around the camp were simplified, the soldiers did not become complacent; on the contrary, they kept an even more vigilant watch over the area around the camp.

Lu Bu's current army is half Han Chinese and half non-Han Chinese.

Among the Han people, most were cavalrymen from Bingzhou in those days.

Most of these people had weathered the storms of life and were of a certain age, but their eyes remained sharp, displaying the ferocity of someone who had survived countless battles, as well as an indifference to life and death.

Even their armor and robes were quite different from those of other cavalry units under the Flying Cavalry.

Besides their similar armor, they often wore more fur, either for trimming their armor or as padding to enhance practicality. These modifications, perhaps an instinctive adaptation to the Western Regions, also created a subtle distance between them and Taishi Ci's cavalry.

In a sense, they were implicated by Lü Bu, but they didn't hate Lü Bu because of it...

This is a phenomenon that contradicts later views, but it was a very natural occurrence in the Han Dynasty at that time.

There weren't many flags in the camp, but the most conspicuous one was a somewhat old but still imposing banner with the character "吕" on it.

Beside the main banner, the tricolor battle flag representing the Flying Cavalry still stands.

Even during their "war to the west to atone for their sins," they never abandoned their tricolor battle flag.

Inside the sheltered tent, Lü Bu sat in the main seat, his figure still as imposing as ever, but the weariness in his face and heart had caused his once overt arrogance to either disappear or settle into a quietude. The arrogance between his brows had been tempered into a restrained sharpness, with only a hint of his former peak sharpness still visible in the blink of his eyes.

Lu Bu pulled at his half-worn black and red cloak with one hand, while his other hand remained firmly gripping the hilt of his sword at his waist, as if he were about to draw his blade at any moment.

Sitting below Lü Bu was Cao Xing, one of the eight remaining generals.

When Lü Bu was at the height of his power, his eight generals were like his reputation, titles, honors, friends, or connections, etc.

But now, all that's left of Lü Bu is Cao Xing.

Below Cao Xing were several Hu-Han military officers who had been promoted after the Western Regions campaign.

Meanwhile, there was another figure in the tent whose demeanor was completely out of place among the surrounding soldiers…

Wusun Xiaokunmi Siam Dan.

Siam Dan's eyes had a slight turquoise tint. He had returned to wearing the brocade and fur robes of the Wusun nobles, a pointed fox fur hat on his head, and a smile that was almost fawning on his face. He leaned forward slightly and began to talk incessantly to Lü Bu...

"General, your divine might is unparalleled! If you can help me... no, help this humble subject reclaim the capital and win back my people, I will surely appoint you as the 'Xiang Da Lu' of Wusun, commanding the Wusun army, a position above all other lords! As for gold, silver, jewels, and beautiful women of the grasslands, they are all at your disposal! I... I also have a younger sister, the most dazzling pearl of the Wusun grasslands! A true swan maiden, her beauty surpasses even the snow lotus under the moon, her dance can make swans pause! If you do not despise me, General, I wish to form a marriage alliance with you, just as Wusun and the Han are now one family!"

It must be said that adversity often forces people to grow. Siam Dan was not good at Chinese, but in order to survive, he suddenly displayed an amazing learning ability. Although his accent was still a bit strange, he was already a fluent illiterate in Chinese...

That's right, Siamese can only speak, but can't read very well.

At this moment, in order to survive and regain power, Siam Dan almost humbled himself to the dust. If kneeling before Lü Bu could make him king again, or even rise to a higher position, he would not hesitate to betray his sister, or even accept Lü Bu's advances towards his mother...

Lu Bu listened expressionlessly.

Gold, silver, and beautiful women—if Lu Bu were twenty years younger, he might have gotten aroused just hearing about it, but now… Lu Bu’s fingers slowly caressed the hilt of his sword.

Three thousand men is neither a large nor a small force, but one thing is certain: they absolutely cannot be allowed to suffer losses easily.

The Cheshi Kingdom was basically destroyed, but for Wusun, fighting head-on was the worst option. Even if he could capture generals and flags with his bravery, how many times could his three thousand soldiers withstand such attrition?
Gao Shun's death was like a thorn stuck in Lü Bu's heart.

The best strategy would be to use the name of Siam Dan to subdue Wusun and use Wusun as a future base for reinforcement.

"Xiang Dalu? A beauty?" Lü Bu glanced at Siam Dan and said in a deep voice, "Are your empty promises worth more than the scimitars and camel cavalry under Lie Jiao Fu's command?"

The Wusun were indeed powerful at one time. At their peak, they had over 100,000 troops and could mobilize large-scale cavalry forces of over 50,000!

However, the drawbacks of nomadic peoples were also evident in the Wusun. Their customs of having no city walls, following livestock, and chasing water and grass meant that even the slightest disturbance would cause great fluctuations.

Perhaps due to overgrazing or natural disasters, the Wusun are no longer as powerful as they were during the reign of Emperor Xuan of Han...

However, among the Wusun, the troops under the command of the Great Kunmi should not be underestimated.

Siam Dan's face paled, and he quickly said, "General, you are wise! That fellow, Lie Jiao Fu, only dares to be so arrogant because he's allied with those people from the Later Cheshi Kingdom and has the support of some tribes! His camel cavalry is indeed a bit troublesome... Camels are tall and large, and when they charge, ordinary formations can hardly withstand them. Moreover, camels are drought-resistant and good at traversing sandy terrain, often suddenly appearing from the wilderness, making them difficult to defend against... But it's not without its problems! Camel cavalry is rather clumsy, unlike warhorses which are very agile... And camels are large and easier to hit! General, you have powerful bows and crossbows; there's no need to fear! As long as you help me defeat Lie Jiao Fu, the other tribes will certainly not dare to have any further thoughts! It's not difficult! This matter is not difficult!"

Lü Bu remained noncommittal, then looked at Cao Xing: "How are your scouts doing?"

Cao Xing cupped his hands and said, "Reporting to the general, the Liejiaofu has about eight thousand men, including four thousand cavalry, three thousand infantry, and one thousand camel riders... They claim that if we escort Xiao Kunmi back to Siam, we can avoid fighting... However, I think the Liejiaofu has chosen a trap... The place has a slightly higher slope on one side and desert on the other... If, as Xiao Kunmi said, camel riders suddenly attack from the flank while our army is attacking from the front..."

Cao Xing glanced at Siam Dan and finally said, "The most crucial question... is it really true that the Liejiao Fu only has these nominally 8,000 men?"

Siam Dan's eyes darted around a few times before he said in a low voice, "This... before I left here... I heard, well, I only heard that Lie Jiao Fu has, well, ten thousand men under his command..."

"Ha!" Lu Bu glanced sideways at Siam Dan.

He roamed the Central Plains and had seen all kinds of cavalry formations.

But these Wusun camel cavalrymen are indeed a new adversary.

Tall, strong, and with great endurance, they can move quickly across sandy terrain that is impassable to infantry, posing a significant threat to the flanks.

Siam Dan, observing Lü Bu's expression, quickly urged him, "General, to defeat Lie Jiao Fu, we don't necessarily need to fight his camel cavalry head-on... Lie Jiao Fu is greedy. In recent years, to build up his army and deal with the other two Great Kunmi of Wusun, he has imposed heavy taxes on the various tribal chiefs and forcibly conscripted soldiers... Many people hate him... especially the old chief of the White Wolf tribe, who is most dissatisfied with him... If you offer him benefits, I can secretly contact him and persuade him to defect on the battlefield... at least not participate in this battle, and leave first. That way, it will cause internal strife within Lie Jiao Fu. Even if his camel cavalry is brave, what can they do?"

Lu Bu's gaze sharpened as he looked at Siam Dan. "Can you guarantee you can make contact? And...are you reliable?"

Siam Dan patted his chest, swearing confidently, "I swear by the spirits of my ancestors! That old fellow only cares about pastures, slaves, and wealth! What the Liejiao Fu can't provide, General, you can! They've actually hated the Liejiao Fu for a long time, but haven't had a good opportunity! Now that your heavenly army has arrived, it's the perfect chance for them to pledge their allegiance! As long as you nod, I'll immediately send my trusted confidants to contact them!"

Lu Bu pondered for a moment, then nodded and said to Siam Dan, "Send someone to contact them now...tell them that those who submit to me will have their grasslands doubled! Those who defy me will have their entire tribe wiped out! Go! You must also demonstrate some of your strength...otherwise, being the Great Kunmi of Wusun won't be so easy!"

Siam Dan quickly bowed: "Yes, yes! I understand! I will certainly not disappoint the General!"

Siam Dan left in a hurry, and a brief silence fell inside the tent, broken only by the howling wind outside and the distant neighing of warhorses.

Lu Bu glanced around at the generals and officers nearby, and slowly said, "Contact is acceptable... but we cannot entrust victory or defeat to the trustworthiness of barbarians..."

"All generals, heed my command!"

Lu Bu stood up and spoke with an air of pride.

"Your subordinate is here!"

"Order the entire army to break camp tomorrow and advance slowly towards the Thorn Slope! Send out numerous scouts, paying particular attention to the desert flanks; report any disturbance within fifty li!"

The group accepted the order and withdrew.

Only Lü Bu remained inside the tent.

A moment later, Lü Bu stood up, walked to the tent, lifted the curtain, and gazed into the distance.

The wind and sand in the Western Regions did temper Lü Bu's arrogance, but it did not destroy his fighting spirit.

Three thousand isolated soldiers faced a formidable enemy ahead and had no way to retreat.

This battle is not only about forging a new path, but also about proving something to that person...

Even though he, Lü Bu, has fallen to the dust, he is still a peerless and deadly blade capable of conquering new territories!

……

……

Memory is like a reservoir, accumulating day and night.

Age is like a valve; it works better and is tighter when you're younger.

As you get older, the floodgates of memories, like the prostate gland, begin to leak out without you even realizing it...

Perhaps it was in a place they had passed through before, where they had seen several young herders riding bareback horses, wrestling on the grass, howling and screaming, their faces covered in sweat and dust, yet their eyes shining like stars. Even when they saw Lu Bu's army approaching, there was a moment of crystal-clear foolishness...

The tide of memories, unwittingly, surges forth like a cascading flood, crashing against the bottom of a reservoir and splashing up countless tiny fragments.

Jiuyuan, oh Jiuyuan.

Only when you leave your hometown do you begin to miss it.

That was the border region of Bingzhou, and the wind at the foot of Yinshan Mountain always carried grass clippings and dust.

The pungent smell of beef and mutton, mixed with the odors of sweat, rancidity, and foul smells...

Just like the strongest mare's milk wine, even a whiff of it can make you choke.

In Jiuyuan, both non-Han and Han people enjoy drinking strong liquor.

Just like life over there, blooming intensely.

The young Lü Bu was like a wild grass growing rampantly on the plains of Jiuyuan, his growth rate was astonishing.

At thirteen or fourteen, he was already half a head taller than many adult men.

He first discovered his "difference" when he was moving stones to build a sheepfold on the riverbank near the village.

The bluestone, about half a person's height, which would require two strong men to lift, was lifted up by Lü Bu with a grunt and a swaying gait, and carried a dozen steps to the edge of the sheepfold.

Amidst the astonished gazes and unanimous praise of the adults around him, Lü Bu began to realize that he was "different from others"...

Later, he apprenticed with a retired soldier from his hometown to learn his craft, and he thrived there.

He could grasp the essence of swords, spears, clubs, and other weapons—moves that others would have to study repeatedly—after just one look and a couple of practice sessions. In fact, because of his greater strength and longer limbs, he could execute them with even more ferocity and dominance.

The old soldier stroked his beard, the look in his eyes unreadable to Lü Bu at the time. "You lad," he murmured, "with your physique and aptitude, you were born for this life of slaughter… but this life of slaughter… isn't so easy to come by…"

Young Lü Bu held his head high, laughing arrogantly, the sunlight shining on his face, which was beginning to show its angular features.

He listened, but not entirely; the word "innate" was swirling in his mind...

In the autumn of the year Lü Bu turned fifteen, a small group of Xianbei cavalry, taking advantage of the ripe grass and fat horses, crossed the border and plundered a neighboring village.

When the news spread, the villagers were filled with anxiety and kept their gates tightly shut.

Lu Bu secretly led out his old horse, picked up his long-sharpened ring-pommel sword, slung a strong bow over his shoulder, and carried a quiver of arrows. Without telling anyone, he rode out of the village alone in the darkness before dawn.

No one knows exactly what happened that night.

By the afternoon of the second day, Lü Bu was covered in blood, as if he had been pulled out of a pool of blood. He not only changed his horse, but also brought back two captured warhorses!
Both horses that were brought in were laden with weapons, leather armor, furs, and cloth!
The most terrifying thing was that there were more than a dozen human heads tied under the horse's neck!
That was Lü Bu's first injury and his first victory.

His face was pale, but his eyes were frighteningly bright.

He pursed his lips, threw the things onto the threshing ground in the village, tilted his head back, and said nothing.

The village was in an uproar, and soon the entire Jiuyuan region was in an uproar as well...

Admiration and respect surged forth like a tide.

The village elders praised him as the "Young Tiger of Jiuyuan".

The young people surrounded him, filled with envy and admiration.

His parents were both proud and heartbroken, and they secretly wiped away tears as they looked at the wounds on his body.

The girl next door, Xiaocao, who always followed behind him with eyes as clear and bright as the streams of Jiuyuan, disregarded her shyness and, even though she was pale with fright, she still mustered her courage and used her trembling hands to clean and bandage his wounds.

The tears of the little grass fell on his wound, and they seemed very hot...

In the following years, similar scenarios occurred several more times.

Sometimes they are scattered border raiders, sometimes they are roving bandits.

Lu Bu's reputation grew louder and louder, gradually transforming from the "Young Tiger of Jiuyuan" into the "Fierce Warrior of Bingbei".

More and more people sought him out and praised him.

He enjoyed the fame, the sense of control over the life and death of others, and the admiring gaze of the crowd.

He felt that he should stand at a high place, in the spotlight, rather than stay in this village and be a village exam taker.

He felt that Jiuyuan was too small, like a shallow beach, unable to contain him, a dragon destined to soar through the clouds.

Power surged within him; he yearned for a wider battlefield, stronger opponents, and more illustrious achievements.

The old soldier's master advised him that he should not only practice martial arts, but also cultivate his mind, but he wouldn't listen.

He felt stifled by his parents' desire for a stable life, settling down and staying put.

The shoes, socks, and purse that Xiaocao sewed by hand could only evoke a brief moment of tenderness in his heart before he tossed them aside.

He wants to leave this village!

The world is so big, he wants to go and see it.

These thoughts, like wildfire in autumn and winter, burned ever brighter in his heart.

He heard that Ding Yuan, the governor of Bingzhou, was openly recruiting heroes from all directions, especially those with great courage and martial prowess. That was the place he should be going!

That's where he found the stage he wanted!

He thought it was right, and that's what he did.

He gazed at the clouds on the horizon, burned crimson by the setting sun, as if they were a dazzling glory waiting for him to claim.

He returned home and told his parents, "I wish to serve under Magistrate Ding, to achieve fame and fortune, and to bring glory to our family."

His tone was firm and left no room for argument.

There was no discussion, no compromise, just notification.

The mother couldn't help but cry, while the father remained silent for a long time before finally letting out a heavy sigh and turning to prepare his luggage and travel expenses.

He pushed open the door and turned to look for Xiaocao.

She was washing clothes by the river when she heard the news. The wooden mallet in her hand fell into the water, splashing the hem of her coarse cloth skirt.

She looked up, her eyes quickly filling with tears, but she held them back, asking softly, "Does Ah Lang really have to leave? It's...it's dangerous out there...wouldn't it be better to stay here, where everyone respects you and you can live a peaceful life?"

Lu Bu looked at her face, at her eyes that were as clear as autumn water, and felt a slight pang in his heart. But he immediately hardened his heart, turned his head away, and looked into the distance. "You don't understand! My empire isn't here! You wait for me, wait for me to make a name for myself, and I'll come back in glory to take you away!"

This was the most romantic yet empty promise he could make for this childhood friendship.

He didn't know if he would come back, or when he would return, or even what kind of reputation he wanted, what the upper limit was, or where the lower limit was...

The little grass lowered its head, picked up the damp mallet, and whispered, its voice almost carried away by the wind, "Okay... I'll wait for you, Ah Lang..."

The next day, just as dawn was breaking, Lü Bu, carrying his baggage, sword, and bow, mounted the barbarian warhorse he had captured and tamed, and left the village without looking back.

The morning mist blurred the outline of the village wall, obscured the figures of the parents behind, and blocked the little grass standing on the high slope gazing into the distance.

The young Lü Bu stood tall with his chest held high, his heart filled with boundless aspirations for the future and absolute confidence in his own strength.

He felt that as long as his knife was sharp and his horse was fast, there was nowhere in the world he couldn't go.
What achievement is impossible to attain?

Goodbye, countryside!

The city, he's here!