The happy life of the devil and the devil

Outside the dilapidated camp gate, Ling Yucheng stepped forward slowly on his horse.Xuanjiawei, who had cleaned the battlefield first, cleared a path. The returning generals in black, headed by Xi Jun and He Liu, lined up in two rows with swords and spears, waiting for the arrival of their leader.

However, the atmosphere in the entire queue was dignified.No one was rushing to boast of their military exploits, every pair of eyes fell on the three towers that were nearly one person tall outside the gate of the camp.

It was the head of their brother.Three days had passed, and the eyes of those who had died so deeply were closed. However, the pain they had suffered during their lifetime was still condensed on their distorted faces, which were horribly embellished by large swathes of black blood.

The horse stepped through the pool of blood step by step.There were still Zhang Xu away from the three piles of heads, Ling Yucheng had dismounted and approached quickly.The ground in front of the camp gate has been trampled soft, and a small flower of fresh blood splashed under the combat boots. Ling Yucheng looked down, frowned slightly, took off the cloak with his backhand, and spread it carefully until he was full of blood. On the muddy ground with blood.

In the scorching summer, the rotten smell makes people want to vomit.Ling Yucheng's expression didn't change, as if he didn't realize it, he stepped forward a few steps, took the top head of Jingguan with his own hands, and bowed his head silently.After standing still for a moment, under the gaze of all the soldiers in the army, he retreated to his original position, half-kneeled, and carefully placed the head in the middle of the cloak.

"Let's go to the sacrifice."

"My lord has an order--go--sacrifice--"

Immediately, a group of prisoners was tied up.Ling Yucheng looked at it coldly, and the person in front of him was very different. Although the armor was broken, it could be seen that the style was much more exquisite than others.The man's helmet had already been knocked off, and his face was so bloodied that he couldn't see his face, but his eyes could spurt fire all the time. He was held down by two Xuanjia guards and fell to his knees. He almost broke free.

"This is..." Ling Yucheng glanced at the man, turned his head, and asked Luo Sha, whose palms were trembling slightly, almost couldn't help but draw his sword: "Xiao Congyu, the son of Duke Xun?"

"Master, that's right!"

"Ah."

With a signal, someone immediately grabbed the man's hair and pulled it back, and another Xuanjiawei took a bucket of water and poured it on his head.After most of the blood washed away, Ling Yucheng saw clearly that it was a 25-year-old young man with thick eyebrows and big eyes, a straight nose and a square mouth, and a rather resolute face.Even though his scalp was about to be torn off, the man still shook his head viciously, shaking off the bloody eyes, and then glared at Ling Yucheng viciously, wishing to tear him to pieces with his eyes.

...It's still a bit bloody.

His eyes passed over him casually, his chin slightly raised, and the two Xuanjia guards who were holding down the man immediately dragged him aside, and tied him firmly on the hastily erected wooden frame.The rest of the captives were not so lucky. The black-clothed soldiers served one by two, and dragged them to the front of the Jingguan to kneel down on their knees.

The fountain of blood rose high.

Then, rows of dejected prisoners of war rushed over like cattle and sheep being driven away.

"Stop! Stop!"

The man on the wooden frame struggled desperately.Watching the second, third, and even fourth batch of prisoners being escorted over, the fresh heads quickly piled up in a pile. He pulled the rope with all his strength, and the back of his head smashed against the thick log. ringing:

"I am the one who made them pile up to watch Beijing! Cut to pieces, come at me!"

"Kill me! Kill me! They have surrendered! I am the one you should kill! Take revenge and take my life!"

"No! They are common people! It was my idea to burn Wenxi! Don't kill them!"

"Killing captives and abusing civilians, you will die a terrible death!"

"Please...don't kill them...kill me..."

From shouting to roaring, from cursing with obscene language to pleading that discredits the ground.What came out of that mouth was the Yuxia language with a correct accent, and Su Luo still regards Yuxia as the suzerain, pays tribute every year, and comes to court every year. The upper-class nobles all want to learn Yuxia language One priority.The enemies in front of him all speak Yuxia language. Even the son of the Duke who was born in Suluo and grew up in Suluo can only use Shangguo dialect, which is not his mother tongue, to try to find a way out for his subordinates and common people. .

However, no one paid any attention.The Xuanjia guards standing in the hatchback just watched with cold eyes, watching rows of prisoners of war and civilians being dragged up and beheaded, watching the man who made them lose thousands of brothers struggling and shouting in vain on the wooden frame, his eyes widened. Cracked, blood and tears flowed horizontally.

"...The soldiers are fierce and the battle is dangerous." The hot neck blood filled the trenches dug around Jingguan, and Ling Yucheng just waved his hand to order a pause, and said slowly:

"Since we're on the battlefield, whether we kill or be killed, it's just right and proper. We can fight back no matter how the enemy comes over—but those who dare to take me to build a temple in the capital think that they can save their lives by surrendering. Yet?!"

"And those common people! Since you dared to burn your own homeland to deal with our army, when you kill them, don't cry for injustice!"

"Keep killing! One life of our brother will be worth ten of the Suruo people!"

There were wailings.

However, this is the only thing I can do for you—turning your eyes away from the Beijing view, and looking further and farther into the wilderness, Ling Yucheng sighed as unobtrusively as possible.

Those beheaded, discarded, and piled up corpses of fellow robes for three days have begun to rot and swell, and they will explode at the slightest touch.Now to turn over and identify is equivalent to infecting the living soldiers with the disease. He can only order the piles of corpses to be burned on the spot, and then divided into pieces, and put into small skin bags together with the same cremated heads, ready to be sent back Qingzhou buried in peace.

The smell of blood in the wind became more and more intense, and gradually, the smell of burning meat was added.

It was getting dark.

The sporadic screams have disappeared.Except for the first batch of human sacrifices tied to the martyrdom, all the rest, driven by Xuanjiawei, desperately felled trees, dug earth pits, and carried corpses—there were so many corpses that needed to be burned or buried, these If the work does not fall to the prisoners of war and the common people, is it possible that the soldiers who have won the battle are allowed to do it?

Then, the laborers who had finished their hard work were pierced into the pit by a forest of spears one by one, and fell on the corpses they had just moved.The moist black soil covered it mercilessly.

Except for the flickering lights of the Xuanjiawei barracks, and the unextinguished fire that burned the corpses of his comrades, the surrounding area of ​​the county town has been completely plunged into deep darkness.

Wenxi County, which has been burnt by the fire, is not inhabitable at all.Outside the city, the scorching smell lingered, and in a slightly lower-lying place, there was a soft swamp when one stepped on it, and the bloody mud splashed little by little.Xuanjiawei could only try to choose a higher place to camp, and as a special preferential treatment, Ling Yucheng's big tent stood on a hill that had been cut down in an emergency.

Small grunts floated out in strings from behind the tent.Ling Yucheng listened intently to the movement behind him, and after confirming that the little guy had fallen asleep, he turned a page and continued to concentrate on writing the memorial for Yuan Shao.

The meaning of Wenxi's defeat is definitely not as simple as the death of 2000 people.Ling Yucheng's previous plan, the most ideal situation, of course, is to go straight to Suluo King's Capital, and complete the battle before the heavy rain in midsummer-however, the three days of delay in this county town have turned this plan into a disaster. ash.

At most, they could only advance to the bank of the Qingjiang River, face off against the Suluo army on the opposite bank across the river against the rain, and wait for the arrival of the crisp autumn season.

In this way, the support and cooperation from the rear has become particularly important.

Summer grain needs to be harvested, civilian husbands must be dispatched, supplies must be transported, and worn-out and damaged weapons must be replenished.Some military supplies, such as medicines, are not produced or produced very little in Suluo, and they must be transported from the rear to the front line as soon as possible...

And all of these require a large number of local officials with both strong and flexible wrists to turn these lands that have just been swept away by the storm into a land of Great Liang with stable rule and blood transfusion for the former army.

After finishing writing a thick memorial, Ling Yucheng re-read it carefully to make sure there were no mistakes or omissions, then sealed it with wax, and carefully put it in a small box with a lock on the corner of the table on the left, ready to send it out early tomorrow morning.Then, he turned to the right, his expression suddenly dimmed.

On the right hand side is also a thick stack of writing paper.There is no other content, only one name after another, Zhang Ergou, Li Dashun, Qian Hou, Lin Jiang...Aguli, Timur...Dahar, Hailin, Yarsai...

A familiar or unfamiliar name.A clear or blurred face.

That's his pawn.It was in this battle, all the dead under Xuanjiawei's command.

Like him, or rather because of learning from him, Luo Sha also likes to organize the veterans brought from northern Xinjiang into a separate book, to break through and attack tough battles. In the most difficult battles, these robes are the last in his hands. The most reliable one is often the power that can make the final decision.

And this habit, in the battle of Qingqi dashing forward to capture Wenxi, caused the veterans of northern Xinjiang to suffer particularly heavy casualties.

750 people died in battle.Among them, almost [-] veterans from northern Xinjiang.

800 people.He brought out a total of 8000 people from northern Xinjiang!

Taking a deep breath, Ling Yucheng picked up the lights and reopened a blank booklet.

The upright and dignified ink, line by line, gradually covered the paper.

No age, no job title, no resume required.Every memory is evoked by a name and covered up by falling ink.One layer after another, one layer after another, layers of ink colors pull up a thick curtain, completely covering those pasts under the underworld.

That was one-tenth of the weight in his life that could no longer be recovered.

The chest is hot.Something is rushing left and right, whistling, struggling, trying to find an exit.Ling Yucheng kept his hands on and wrote steadily one stroke at a time. He didn't take a deep breath until he had copied the complete list of the dead. He turned his back to the sky and clenched his fists tightly.

Before he knew it, the smell of fresh blood filled his entire mouth.

Anyway, tonight's work is finally over.Hearing the footsteps of the soldiers changing defense outside the tent, Ling Yucheng held back a yawn, blew out the candles, and threw his clothes on the floor.A burst of drowsiness suddenly swept up, and almost immediately, he sank into the deepest dream.

In the dream, figures came one after another.Every face is familiar, young, middle-aged, fair, dark, full of vitality, bitter and bitter... The perseverance when riding against the wind and snow, the joy of getting married in red and colorful, embracing a new life Toddlers talking about their longing for the future...

They laughed, talked, and bowed respectfully in front of him, and then walked into the depths of the darkness without looking back, never looking back.

"...Come back." Stretching out his hands in vain, watching those figures turn into light smoke again and again, Ling Yucheng could only murmur incessantly: "Come back...this is a military order! Come back!"

Then, everything disappeared.

There was an empty darkness in front of my eyes, with no direction, no weight, and no sound.He was the only one standing there alone, and no matter how hard he ran, he couldn't find any light.

until he heard a voice.

"Longevity."

Ling Yucheng turned around instinctively.Before he had time to raise his head, he crashed into a familiar embrace. The warm body temperature pressed against his whole body in all directions, and his stiff spine relaxed almost immediately.

"Your Majesty," he tried to find his own voice, but as soon as he opened his mouth, all the words were fragmented.The only thing I can do is to grab the arm that hugs me tightly, press my forehead firmly against the person's shoulder, and repeat over and over again:

"His Majesty……"

Waking up suddenly, the night wind quietly flipped the curtain, and the outer robe that was used as a pillow was soaked through.

The author has something to say: Regarding the approximate height of the Jingguan pile...

The landlord measured the length and width of his head and calculated the approximate volume.

Assuming that 500 people died, and the heads were cut off and piled up in three piles on average, the above-mentioned volume was multiplied by five hundred.

Then, with the cone V=1/3πr^2h, assuming that the height of the cone is equal to the radius, the radius is reversed by substituting the above volume into the formula.

The height of the cone is obtained to be about 1.5 meters

I am also drunk to be able to toss like this...

Ps:

How about you give a book review anyway, yesterday received a total of 5 book reviews, of which Wangtian contributed 3, Binxin contributed [-]... others!What about others!

Thank you all!

It's good to know you're all there, always!hug each other~~~~

Ps:

That was one-tenth of the weight in his life that could no longer be recovered.

It would be great if I could lose a tenth of my weight in one go without worrying about rebounding~~~