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    Summary

    There was a tragic poetic beauty in their futile journey, Zhang Hao admitted, as the horse began to plod down the uneven dirt track. They would never get home, but he’d try his goddamn best to make Hanbin believe it.

    It had been a long day. The growing wheat rippled in waves as a sorrowful gust of wind blew between him and Hanbin, loneliness carried on its breeze. Between the white clouds, Zhang Hao could see miles of blue beyond.

    The bandages around Hanbin’s chest were already soaked through, bright red with fresh blood. And even as Zhang Hao tenderly gripped Hanbin’s hands in his, they were freezing cold, blue, and mottled. It was not his journey home. It was Hanbin’s.

    The tragic tale of two lovers, and how war makes men into monsters.

    Language:
    English
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