Su Heng's brows furrowed slightly as he perused with interest the past experiences of Xie Linyuan.
He was born on Skull Plain, to a warrior tribe, with childhood memories having become very vague. The only impressions that remained were of the iron-gray distant sky, the blade-sharp cold wind, the parched and cracked earth, and his father's palms, red and fissured.
In the year he turned twelve, Xie Linyuan's nomadic tribe was annihilated.
The environment on Skull Plain was harsh, resources were limited, and it was common for tribes to wage war against each other and even resort to cannibalism.
A monk passing by saved him from the hands of an enemy tribe leader with a piece of green agate.
There was no sense of relief in Xie Linyuan's heart, only profound fear.
