The morning sun on the horizon finally rose from the clouds, and the orange-yellow sunlight extended from the east as far as the eye could see, and soon shrouded the tunnel where Zhang Tai was located.

The shadow was born with the sun, next to Zhang Tai's feet, twisting his body. He was already tired, and his arm was sore, it was soreness coming from his bones, as if a strong man was grabbing his arm and twisting it like a towel, trying to squeeze the bone marrow out of the cracks in his skin.

But he was still swinging his hoe, albeit slowly. Whenever he wanted to lift the hoe, he had to grasp the handle with his left hand, and with his right hand he pressed his big arm against the lower end of the pole, bend down, and use the strength of his shoulders to lift the hoe. When the hoe is lifted above the tunnel, he rests the hoe on the ground for a while, and then lifts the hoe with all his might, and smashes the tip of the hoe into the soil with gravitational acceleration. In this way, he has been working since eight o'clock last night, and he can only dig once in five or six minutes.

It wasn't until he was patted on the shoulder that Zhang Tai came back from his trance. He looked at the person who had patted him, and it took him a moment to focus his eyes and realize who the other person was. "Don't be lazy, keep going." He flicked his lips slightly, barely spitting out a few words.

The man's face was very haggard, and his dirty braids were thrown around his neck, which was covered with fine dirt: "Strike the gong, stop doing it." ”

He limped away with his hoe. Zhang Tai's eyes followed the man's figure and saw a Yu Ding beating the gong and shouting for them to go back. So Zhang Tai went back.

Afterwards, Zhang Tai said that he had forgotten how he walked back to the camp from the top of the tunnel. During that journey of more than 100 meters, Zhang Tai only remembered that he fell to the ground countless times. He tilted his head sideways, looking at the world whirling in his field of vision, his head was full of Peng Sanyong's body that had lost his head and the blood that splashed on his head. After the last fall, Jang Tai could no longer stand up. His body shook like a cramp, and vaguely, he seemed to have been slapped by something a few times, but his head was still getting more and more blurry.

When he regained consciousness from the chaos, he saw a pale sky in the sunlight. The body was kicked by one leg a few times, swayed like a dead dog a few times, and returned to its original state. He barely shook his head and looked at the man who kicked him.

It was a yellow-flagged remnant. Seeing that the person at his feet could still look at himself, Yu Ding screamed and asked loudly: "Whose coat is this, and there is still gas." ”

A few Yu Ding appeared from view, glanced at themselves and disappeared again. Zhang Taizhi looked at the sky in a daze, until he saw Da Chun's face.

"Master." He spoke, so soft that only he could hear him. Fortunately, Taharu also saw him.

Da Chun said to Yu Ding, and pulled Zhang Tai's arm to lift him up. After Zhang Tai left the ground, he saw seven or eight coats lying horizontally around him.

"It's exhausting." Da Chun dragged him and said, "You almost died, but you came back to life." Lord Akdun and Ala-ezhen said that they would not exhaust you to death. ”

"Thank you, master." Zhang Tai whispered. He looked at the few coats lying on the ground, already out of breath, and did not continue to speak. There was a burning pain on my back and shoulders, the cotton clothes I had worn for several years had also been damaged by the whip, and the ura grass had come out of the hole. For a few seconds, Zhang Tai felt that he was going to die in the ice and snow this winter.

After returning to the tent where they had rested, Zhang Tai fell to the ground as soft as mud. They were given a little rest, and now they were digging in the blue flags—they used to sleep at night and work during the day. Through the cracks in the tents, Zhang Tai saw that they were carrying out the dirt basket by basket, piling up in front of the camp to form a low earthen wall. The wall is only a few feet tall now, and at the current rate, it will be able to hold people back in a few days.

The people with the blue flag already had experience in facing the Song army. In order to defend against artillery, the coaters would dig pits diagonally during the day, approaching the Song people's defense line in a "Z" shape; At night, when the Song defenders could not see them, the Baoyi men dug straight and could dig a tunnel of more than ten meters in one night.

Now the tunnel is still relatively simple, and after half a month, the tunnel dug by Houjin has even developed an anti-artillery hole dug on the side of the tunnel, and the depth of the tunnel has reached nearly two meters, and the surface is piled out of bunkers with mud and corpses, and muskets and cannons stick out of the gap between the bunkers... (If a time-traveler comes to this battlefield, he may feel that he has traveled back in time to the time of the Russo-Japanese War)

Jang Tae soon fell asleep again. He slept restlessly, his dark vision flashing back to his life over the years. From Fushun, to Liaoyang, and then to Niu Lu of Chun's house... Thousands of days and nights of memories keep going back. The last picture that appeared was Peng Sanyong's fallen body, and he heard the screams of the people around him. When I turned around, I saw that it was the white armor who was indiscriminately slashing the coats around them.

He snapped his eyes open, his bare head covered in cold sweat. The screams in the dream were real, and the sounds of whipping, scolding, and screaming could be heard outside the tent.

There were already wrappers at the entrance of the tent watching the excitement. He struggled to get up from the haystack and stand with them.

Outside the tent, there were five or six Bao Yi lying on the ground moaning, and many more Bao Yi cowered and knelt on the ground, surrounded by a dozen Yu Ding. The white armor that whipped himself last night stood at the front with a whip, and beside him was a blue flag-inlaid armor.

He was holding a piece of paper in his hand and a waist knife in his other. His face was very gloomy, and he said a few words to the white armor. The white armor talked to a few more Yu Ding, and then strode towards the tent where Zhang Tai was.

The wrappers in the tent hurriedly knelt down in the tent. After Bai Jia walked in, he said to Zhang Tai in stiff Chinese: "You and I come out." ”

Zhang Tai reluctantly stood up and limped out with Bai Jia. Fortunately, the white armor didn't walk fast, otherwise Zhang Tai would have been slow and would definitely have to be whipped again.

Bai Jia led Zhang Tai to the front of Jia La's Ezhen, and Zhang Tai hurriedly knelt down honestly and picked up the paper that Jia La's Ezhen had thrown down from the ground.

"You read it out." Jiala's true words are spoken in Jurchen language.

Zhang Tai kowtowed deeply all of a sudden: "Back to the master, the slave doesn't know how many Chinese characters." ”

Najia La'e Zhen squatted down, grinned and said, "It's okay, you can just read it." I heard Zachdan say that you can speak a little Chinese and can speak Dajin, you can read it. If you don't read it well, I won't punish you. ”

Zhang Tai had no choice but to kowtow again, and stammered: "Announce all the Han slaves, today my Great Song Dynasty has come to rescue you and others, the Han people have fled under the wall, and they can be protected by our army, and the Jiannu will not kill you again." Only this sentence was written on the paper, and a few small pictures were drawn in the blank space, showing a man walking out of the tunnel, followed by Jiannu holding a knife. When the man walked under the wall, the man on the wall shot a bow and arrow, killing Jiannu who was chasing behind him... The man also had a smile on his face.

Zhang Tai raised his head tremblingly, and Jia Lae Zhen withdrew the paper from his hand and slowly walked behind him.

Zhang Tai remained motionless and did not dare to look back. The body full of dark wounds slept for a while, but it was even more sore. Cold sweat quickly soaked his clothes, but he was still as stiff as a sculpture. There were a few screams behind him, and a Bao Yi suddenly yelled in Chinese: "Lao Tzu enters your mother's house!" Bitch raised tartars! ”

Zhang Tai's body stiffened, and the roar of the Jiala's forehead immediately sounded. After that, there was a continuous sound of blowing, and the Chinese swear words gradually dispersed, and soon only a muffled grunt remained, and finally the sound of fists hitting rotten flesh.

Finally, Zhang Tai felt a tap on the shoulder. He turned his head slowly, and saw that the Gyala was really looking at him. He had a pleasant smile on his face, and his armor was splattered with a blur of flesh. "What's your name?"

"Back to the master, the slave's name is Zhang Tai."

"Zhang Tai." Glama said the name slowly, smiled again, and said, "You're doing a great job. You don't have to dig tonight, I'll tell your master that you have made meritorious service and can sleep. ”

Zhang Tai hurriedly kowtowed again: "Thank you, master." ”

When Jang Tae returned to the tent in a flash, he noticed that the other people in the tent looked at him strangely. It was a complex look of envy, disgust, and hatred, with a hint of fear in between.

Zhang Tai looked at them expressionlessly, and fell headlong on the grass. He knew where the paper came from. It was when he was asleep, thrown from a heavenly Aosong hot air balloon.

There was a whipping sound outside the tent. Except for a few who were killed, all the others were whipped up. The whispers of other people wafting through the tent, and Zhang Tai heard a few meaningful words, but he didn't react. He was so tired and too tired.

In the haze, he suddenly hated the Ao Song people. Without them, he and the rest of the coat wouldn't have had to dig such a tiring pit so far away. Peng Sanyong and the few people outside the tent will not be killed by the masters.