After marrying a sickly and powerful official, Jiaojiao cries every day

It was so dark that no one could get in or out of the place.

The already tense atmosphere at the banquet was now even more chaotic and ugly.

The weapons in the hands of the Miao army were all pointed at Sang Muye. The sharp tips emitted a cold light under the light, and the violence and murderous intent were contained in them. The danger was imminent.

The sharp weapon seemed to carry a powerful force, and in an instant it cut off a silver bell from Sang Muye's body.

The silver bell made a crisp sound when it fell to the ground, and at this moment he was like a lamb to be slaughtered, alone and could be killed by the sword in a few strokes.

"Uncle, do you really want to do this?"

Sang Muye was not afraid of the confrontation with the blades, as if he had already expected this situation. However, when he looked at the man sitting at the top, there was a flickering light in his peach blossom eyes, and the only trace of warmth left from the complex struggle was all concentrated in them.

It's just shaky and will fall apart with the slightest touch.

Yang Xuelian lowered her eyes, her pale amber eyes were filled with frost, without any warmth: "It is natural to treat traitors like this."

Hearing his words, the Miao army quietly advanced another inch, with murderous intent approaching.

"boom--"

At that time, a falcon perched on a branch also flew in through the window.

It let out a long cry towards the sky, then landed steadily on Sang Muye's shoulder, staring at the heavy troops with a fierce look.

Sang Muye's clenched fists loosened, and he seemed to have figured something out. There was a hint of determination in his lonely back, and even the warmth in his eyes disappeared at this moment.

He waved his hand casually.

This seemed to be some kind of instruction, and the tearing sound of swords colliding suddenly rang out.

Another group of Miao troops had been waiting outside for a long time. After receiving the order, they rushed in fiercely. In just a moment, they defeated Yang Xuelian's soldiers who were surrounding the outside.

Then, they swarmed over and closely protected Sang Muye.

As the two sides faced off, the solemn atmosphere seemed to strangle people's throats, making them almost suffocated.

Just like an unpredictable chessboard, the situation changes suddenly, making it hard to cope, and no one knows who will win until the very end.

"Muye, you are indeed an obedient child." Yang Xuelian looked at him steadily, his eyes so indifferent that it was hard to tell whether he was happy or angry. "I have always taught you not to be soft-hearted. Now that you have learned something, the first thing you do is to rebel and turn your sword against your uncle."

This unexpected change happened so suddenly that many people at the banquet were still unable to react.

By the time I realized what was happening, I almost screamed.

What is going on?

Does Sang Muye really want to rebel?

"Uncle, I don't have any intention of treason..." Sang Muye pondered.

He has been feeling that things will not go smoothly at the state banquet these days. Given Yang Xuelian's personality, he will definitely take action.

He had foreseen the undercurrent beneath the calm, so he made sufficient preparations. Who would have thought that his premonition would come true.

Yang Xuelian fixed his gaze on him, and said sarcastically, "You didn't plot treason, but you led a large army... Do you think you can trust what you said?"

Sang Muye looked at him, the smile in his eyes disappeared at some point, his face was expressionless, and as cold as broken jade.

The two looked at each other in silence, and the air was stagnant again.

half an hour.

Sang Muye's voice, which contained no smile, lingered and echoed in the air through the heavy armor.

"My uncle ignored the advice of the ministers and insisted on sending troops to Beilang. The military strength of our Miaojiang and Beilang is already very different. If we really send troops, I am afraid that our Miaojiang will be reduced to a scorched earth in an instant and will no longer exist."

"I know that my uncle is stubborn and I cannot stop him by myself, so I can only resort to this last resort. I just hope that I can do my best to stop you and prevent you from making the same mistake again. I also hope that Miaojiang will be peaceful and the people will live in happiness."

The heavy voice was unlike the laughter of the past. It resounded heavily in everyone's heart like a huge bell.

What he wants is also what most people want.

If there were nothing to do, who would want to start wars frequently and live in the smoke of gunpowder all day long?

What's more, it's a battle like an egg hitting a rock, with no chance of winning.

They once thought that Yang Xuelian was crazy. Recently, he has been sending soldiers one after another, saying that he wants to strangle Beilang monarch Feng Qiwu. What kind of person is Feng Qiwu?

He is a Shura who fought his way out of a sea of ​​blood and corpses. He has never been defeated in the battlefield and has a cruel and eccentric temperament. He will never let go of any grudge. Why would you provoke anyone else but him? Now that he is the lord of Beilang, he has become even more unscrupulous without any restraints.

Seeing someone stand up to stop it today, their hearts quietly leaned towards Sang Muye.

Yang Xuelian looked around and knew what these people were thinking. They were just a bunch of fence-sitters.

He didn't care, just waved his hand casually, and said, "Incorrigible, high-sounding... Take him down--"

At his command, the soldiers swarmed forward.

"Uncle, don't make the same mistake again." Sang Muye stared and gave the order at the same time.

In an instant, the two sides clashed, and the sound of weapons was like a strong wind tearing everything apart, sweeping into the ears.

Swords, spears, and halberds gleamed brightly in the light, piercing into the harvest, blood everywhere, the surging force was like the collapse of the sky and the earth, and shouts of killing rang out everywhere.

The extravagance and splendor of the banquet is long gone. Corpses are piled up, and thick blood forms a river winding under our feet.

The princes and nobles had already been frightened and fled in panic with pale faces.

Ashina Ba and Moka Lianhua were calm and composed, as if they had seen blood and storms before. They were still sitting in their seats, watching the drama of civil strife.

The greater the chaos, the more opportunities there are to take advantage of.

The two of them drank glass after glass, each with their own thoughts in mind, which they did not show on their faces.

The night wind was howling, and the troops of both sides had already fought outside the building.

Countless corpses were piled up, and the sound of fighting echoed throughout the sky.

Sang Muye stood on the stone road covered with blood, looking at the soldiers of both sides fighting each other. His peach blossom eyes were as dark as the night, filled with unfathomable emotions.

Once this battle is triggered, there is no turning back, and it can only end when one side is defeated.

And he also has the troops supported by Feng Qiwu, so he has a chance of winning this battle.

Yang Xuelian also walked down from his high position, and calmly followed the flow of blood to the outside of the building. The stench of blood wafted into his nose, but his expression remained unchanged. He was as independent as before, with his snow-white clothes fluttering.

A group of soldiers closely guarded him, providing tight protection.

Amid the chaos of smoke and dust, there were sudden and strange movements in all directions. Yang Xuelian was very observant and raised his eyes suddenly.

Through a corner of the moon veil, he caught a glimpse of a dark mass of icy sharp edges, and a battle flag belonging to Beilang was flying high in the wind.

Yang Xuelian frowned slightly, and when he looked again, the scene in front of him became clearer.

Nearly 100,000 elite Beilang soldiers surrounded this place. Archers were in position on all four sides of the upstairs, with sharp arrows on bowstrings, ready to be fired. The siege downstairs was tight, like a cage.

Feng Qiwu was standing on the upper floor, his red dress fluttering in the wind. The sound of hunting sounded, and the sharpness of the bow and arrow was reflected in his eyes, a sinister and cold frost like an icy lake.

Wen Ranyan was standing beside him. Perhaps she sensed a gaze coming her way. She leaned lazily on the carved railing and waved at Yang Xuelian with a smile.

"You guys had such a lively fight." She laughed, with a hint of teasing in her voice.