Opening my eyes, I became the poor magistrate of Lingzhi County in the Liaoxi borderlands. Outside the city, two thousand remaining Yellow Turban rebels were frantically attacking the city, while inside, the defending garrison numbered less than two hundred. At that critical moment when the city was about to fall, a nineteen-year-old youth in white, accompanied by his clansmen passing outside the city, was willing to help defend it. The youth was named Zhao Yun, courtesy name Zilong. With a single man and a spear, he slaughtered his way through two thousand rebel formations. Watching the youth stained with white blood and standing with his spear, Wang Ning had only one thought left in his heart. Isn't this starting configuration a bit too luxurious? But in a small border county, there was no grain to be had, no soldiers to spare, and fierce enemies lurked on all sides. Gongsun Zan's White Horse Cavalier eyed them covetously, and the Wuhuan and Xianbei raided the passes year after year!