The night is getting dusk, the moonlight is faint. Clusters of bonfires were lit on the coast. The aroma of roasted food diffuses between the tidal flats and hills. The king's flag of the black wolf stands on the hill, like some kind of solemn will, it has never moved a bit. But at this moment, there is a bonfire on the hill at night, and a lot of grain fragrance is floating in front of the flying flag.

Xiulot sat cross-legged in front of the fire, eating soft tortillas while chatting with the generals beside him. while racking my brains

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