It was night, and Song Yan was sleeping at the foot of a hill two thousand kilometers away from Yunumen Gate.

The bright yellow flames set against his slightly tender and handsome cheeks, and he held a branch in his hand. On the branch, a fat and oily pheasant was roasting on the fire, and a strong fragrance of meat flew far away with the night breeze.

It's been a long time since we had a barbecue.

dozens of miles away.

There's a hunt going on.

The pursued were a pair of angry young boys and girls, while the middle-aged men with a long-standing vision were the ones who pursued...