Across the land, cha

Chen Xiu lay on the windowsill, gazing at the sky, his expression vacant.,It's a pity, he was born male, at most he could live to seventeen.,A burly man patted Chen Xiu's shoulder and handed a bloody, pitch-black broken sword to his side: “If you’re feeling charitable, make him a proper burial. This is all he had left. Since you two were acquainted, why don’t you take it”。