On the North China Plain in winter, the desolate land is silent. The wheat field has long been harvested, and clusters of wheat stubble are scattered all over the field, and from a distance, the earth is covered with a dull golden color. Withered yellow grass vines grow all over the ridges of the field, occasionally revealing a little green, showing the strong vitality of nature.

A jumbo heavy truck was parked on a gentle dirt slope, and not far behind it was a Hummer jeep with an open door, a low-barreled gun towed behind it, an M240 7.62mm machine gun on the jeep leaning back, no soldiers behind the gun emplacement, and the headlights in front of the car looked very dim in the winter sun.

Yang Ming looked at all this with his eyes wide open, and his mind fell into extreme confusion.

Yang Ming, a native of Beijing, went to the United States with his parents to study in the United States when he was in high school, and applied to an Ivy League university with excellent grades. Mixed up in college for two years and dropped out by MeToo. He didn't get his graduation certificate and couldn't find a good job for a while, so he simply went to the recruiting station to sign up for the army. After the ASVAB (Military Vocational Aptitude Test) test, it was clear that these simple intelligence and general knowledge tests were not difficult for him, and the perfect test score allowed him to choose all classes. In the end, Yang Ming chose artillery - artillery is the god of war, and he has always thought so since he was a child, who has loved history and military affairs.

A month later, I received an offer of admission. Yang Ming took his simple luggage to the Fort Syl Artillery Training Base in Oklahoma for 10 weeks of recruit training, and after completing the recruit training with excellent results, he chose to serve in the 10th Mountain Division stationed at Fort Drum, and soon after that, he went to the battlefield in Afghanistan.

During his two years in Afghanistan, Yang Ming participated in many battles and battles - in the artillery position, he and his comrades pushed 155mm grenades into the breeches of the M777 howitzer again and again, turned the gun wheel, pulled the gun rope, and the cannon roared to shoot the grenade into the trajectory, and the whole earth trembled. With each shell fired, within a radius of 150 meters from the target a few tens of kilometers away, shrenchnel and shock waves of 155 grenades roared to destroy everything.

He also repeatedly raised his guns and fought with enemy fighters at a distance of tens of meters, and those militants who infiltrated and tried to destroy the artillery positions had no fear of death, and the AK47s in their hands sprayed fire snakes, rushing up in waves, tearing apart the artillery defense ring little by little. Bullets whistled in the ears, grenades exploded all around, and bodies fell every minute, spilling blood into the desolate earth.

In the battle to clean up the nests of militants in the mountains of Afghanistan, he repeatedly fought the enemy in close combat, fighting to the death. On the steep and rugged mountain road, he even encountered the opposing fighters on a narrow road several times, and the two sides were caught off guard and hugged each other, trying to inflict fatal blows on each other with bayonets, fists, teeth, and helmets.

Accustomed to seeing poverty, ignorance, hatred, and killing in this world, and experiencing the blood and fire of life and death, Yang Ming realized the transformation from a literary youth to a predator.

All this, on the North China Plain in the winter of 1629, switched the course of life - he crossed.

Yang Ming retracted his thoughts and reconfirmed this fact.

"Tommy!" Shouting the names of his comrades, he rushed to the Humvee behind him.

Very disappointed and didn't get any response. The door of the Humvee is open, the dashboard is still on, the engine is idling in neutral, there is no one in the car, and a HK416 rifle is hanging diagonally on the back of the driver's seat of the Humvee.

Yang Ming grabbed his rifle, pulled the bolt, checked the magazine, and bent down to trot all the way around the jeep, but found nothing.

He wanted to run a little farther and see where the world was, what kind of place it was. What era is this? Miles away from the village, the ruins of the walls were faintly visible, and the thin smoke of burning still rose from the ruins of several houses. According to the architectural style of the house, as well as the dilapidated couplets that were faintly visible on the broken wall, Yang Ming was sure that this was in the land of China, but strangely, there was a deathly silence all around, and it was deserted.

The qualities of a professional soldier began to work, Yang Ming calmed himself down, he ran back to his heavy truck, took out his personal equipment and began to arm himself, put on a bulletproof tactical vest, put on a Kevlar helmet, threw the rifle taken from the jeep into the cab, took out his HK416 rifle, and hung an M9 bayonet on the barrel - for a soldier, the gun is like his second child, and it is more confident to use his own gun. He stuffed six magazines into his tactical vest, hung two M67 grenades, picked up a telescope and hung it around his neck, locked the door of the heavy truck, ran to the back of the Humvee to unhook the cannon, and then returned to the cab, slammed the accelerator on the steering wheel, the engine let out a low roar, and the Humvee rushed to the wheat field and drove towards the distant village. As the wheels rolled forward, two long car marks stretched on the solid wheat field ground, and clusters of withered yellow wheat stubble rolled down in the car marks.

When he was about to arrive at the village, Yang Ming saw the body lying under the ridge. It was the corpse of a man, lying on his stomach in the direction of the village, with a crude scarf tied around his head, wearing shabby coarse cloth clothes, wounds on his vest, flesh and blood on the wounds turned out, and black blood stained the clothes on his back.

It was an arrow wound, but there was no arrow shaft on the corpse, Yang Ming understood after a little thought that arrows were relatively expensive in this era, and the arrows that took the life of this man had been taken back.

This is a troubled time, Yang Ming sighed. The corpse had been dead for a few days, just a few hundred meters from the village, and no one had come to collect it, not knowing what was going on in this world.

In front of him was a village of dozens of families, Yang Ming parked the car on the edge of the village, locked the door, and walked towards the village with a rifle in standard tactical movements. Along the way, he saw several more corpses, both male and female, with wounds ranging from arrow wounds to knife wounds. There was a corpse lying on its back, a huge wound that had almost split the entire face, and the dead man's eyes bulged outward, as if to tell the world about anger and hatred. Seeing this, even if he was on the battlefield, Yang Ming, who had experienced blood and fire, couldn't help but be secretly a little frightened.

Entering from the entrance of the village, the whole village in front of me was in shambles, full of ruins, the doors of the houses were either open or damaged, and some of the doors still had marks of knives and guns. Yang Ming carefully peeked out of the door one by one, except for the corpses lying in the house from time to time, he couldn't find a living thing.

There is a door that is hidden, and in this ruined wall, the hidden door gives people a strange and gloomy feeling. Yang Ming took a deep breath, took a few steps forward, and gently pushed the door with a bayonet with a rifle, and the door creaked open.

A female corpse hung from the beam in the room, her dark purple tongue sticking out, her eyes protruding, and her face hideous. The woman's body was only a strand of clothes, and the two legs hanging down were grayish-white, and a dark red blood stain extended from the inside of the legs, condensing into a puddle of black dirt on the adobe floor of the house.

Seeing this scene, Yang Ming was speechless, and felt a sadness in his heart. Yang Ming remembered that in the previous world, he used bullets and cannons to fire fiercely at those armed elements, watching them fall one by one, and there was a feeling of revenge in his heart, and now, he had crossed into this world, did he still have to bear this responsibility?

Yang Ming fell into deep thought for a moment, and suddenly, he heard a rustling sound from behind. In an instant, Yang Ming turned the muzzle of the gun sideways, but saw a figure flashing in the corner of the wall.

"Who?" Yang Ming shouted loudly, rushed over with an arrow step, vigorously crossed a broken wall, and grabbed a thin body from behind.

The man who was caught was trembling with fright, and turned his head, but it was a teenager with dirty hair hanging out, his face covered with dirt, and his eyes full of fear.

"Don't be afraid, I won't hurt you." Seeing that it was a child, Yang Ming also relaxed a little.

"What's your name?"

The child looked at Yang Ming in horror, his body shrank back, and his face was a little more puzzled than fear.

It's no wonder that Yang Ming's outfit is indeed unusual enough in this era.

Accents are also an issue. Although Yang Ming is also a northerner, after more than 300 years, the tone of the language has changed greatly, and this child may not be able to understand what he says.

Yang Ming smiled helplessly at the child, using facial expressions to reduce the pressure on the other party as much as possible, he took out a piece of chocolate from his pocket, tore open the package, and handed it to the child with a smile.

The child cowered and didn't dare to answer, and a pair of frightened eyes looked at Yang Ming, the "weirdo". There was no way, Yang Ming had to take a bite of the chocolate first, make a delicious and intoxicated look on his face, and hand the chocolate to the child again. The child hesitated for a while, finally took it, took it to his mouth and licked it, it didn't feel like a poison, and it seemed to taste very good, so he quickly stuffed it into his mouth and chewed it.

"Tell me, what is this place? Something happened."

After a period of comparison and inquiry, Yang Ming finally knew what was going on......