李文轩站在城门下，脸被风吹得生疼。他攥紧了怀里的诗稿，指节发白。城门卫兵不耐烦地吼道：“滚！这里不许停留！” 李文轩咽了口唾沫，校尉的命令还在耳边响着，他不能闯关。

诗稿是他.";.__the sole comfort in this world. He had practiced its verses for years, dreaming of a day when he could recite them before a gathered audience. But now, the priority was survival.

The wind howled louder as the sun dipped below the horizon. Shadows stretched across the broken streets, swallowing the few remaining lights. Littered debris from recent skirmishes scattered everywhere, a grim reminder of the chaos that had engulfed the city.

"They're coming," whispered a voice nearby.

Liu Wenxuan turned to see an old beggar, his eyes wide with fear. The beggar指出 a group of soldiers advancing down the road, their weapons glinting in the fading light. Liu Wenxuan's heart sank. He recognized their insignia - the infamous Jia Jun, known for their ruthless cruelty.

"Run, young master!" the beggar urged, tugging at his arm. "You can't fight them."