After walking on the wasteland for ten consecutive days, Yang Hao encountered the second snow of the year, three days and three nights, the wind swept across the vast Gobi steppe with the blizzard, everywhere was the breath of death, every day was competing with death, the dry food was about to be eaten, the long-haired horse that could withstand hunger and cold accidentally broke a leg, it lay on the ice sheet and had no hope of getting back up, waiting for it only death,

Yang Hao couldn't bear to let it suffer too much, one morning, after he prayed silently to the heavens for his sin, while it was not paying attention, and as a result, Yang Hao cut off a horse's leg as dry food, and then continued to walk on the snow.

After walking for five days and five nights, finally at noon one day, Yang Hao fainted, the moment he fell, he expected that he might never be able to get up again in this life and this life, he had become completely numb, is this death, it turned out to be such an artistic conception,

People come to this world alone in chaos, and leave alone and chaotically, in the middle of a life and death, people temporarily forget about loneliness, think they are sober and live, and now their souls are out of the shell, standing by the shell of the past and looking at the past life with another eye,

It's all a dream, a vague dream, with no beginning and no end, falling asleep in chaos, never waking up again,

But Yang Hao finally woke up, he found himself lying on a soft bed with thick golden grass, and the charcoal fire was burning in the hearth nearby, and a round girl's face appeared in front of him, she was eating with a bowl carved from wood, the bowl was rough, but inside was a fragrant and delicious broth,

"Ani......"

The girl screamed in surprise, excitedly dropped the bowl and ran out, Yang Hao smiled bitterly unconsciously, a similar scene seemed to have been experienced in the Marquis Mansion of Xining, Chang'an a few years ago, is this another reincarnation, what kind of identity will he be this time, what kind of situation will he have?

The door curtain was lifted and a cold wind poured in, several sturdy herdsmen walked to the bedside, the snowflakes on the heavy leather robe were melting, a rough big hand pressed on Yang Hao's forehead, and there was no terrible high fever, he peeled off Yang Hao's eyes again, and finally checked his tongue, a smile bloomed on his weather-beaten face,

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