The sun sets over the western mountains. Pen ~ fun ~ pavilion www.biquge.info

The entire sky turned a transparent deep blue.

The evening breeze that has not been seen for many days brings a bubbling coolness.

The soldiers and civilians on the west bank of the Yellow River fought for days and finally had a chance to take a breather.

The people in the camp came from all over the country to bury the dead of the past few days according to their own customs.

The nomads, who follow the shamanic traditions of the ancient steppes, do not dare to cry out when they sob, because that would frighten the spirits of the dead, do not greet people or answer the greetings of others, and bury the bodies of the dead deep in the ground, cover them with new soil, and restore them to the same scenery as in the vicinity, leaving no trace.

The nomads who accepted Lamaism dressed the dead in new clothes, then placed the corpse on horseback and whipped the animal so hard that it could run and jolt at will. Where the corpse landed, there was an auspicious burial ground, and the corpse was immediately surrounded with clods of earth and stones. Then prepare to come back on the third day, and if the body has been eaten by wild fowl and wild beasts, the deceased has already ascended to heaven, otherwise the lama must be invited to recite the sutras.

More nomadic people used burials similar to those in the Central Plains. They buried the body of the deceased in a tomb with their heads north and feet south, and piled stones on top of them to form a tomb bag, on which a white cloth was erected with scriptures written on it.

After the last ray of sunlight did not go, there was a bang, and the funeral procession of the Temu Kingdom rose up.

Six captured carriages, pulling the bodies of six martyrs, there were no coffins or face coverings, the martyrs were lying on their backs, the blue sky was as clean as washing, and the clouds were like sheep in the sky.

Sun Yi was the first carriage to support the spirit, Yang Ritian was the second carriage to support the spirit, Li Guang was the third, Bu Nineteen was the fourth, Wang Stuffy was the fifth, and Mo Rigen was the sixth.

Kikige took off the earrings in both ears and silently followed Sun Yi's side.

Horses and oxen dragged hard-wheeled wooden carts along the grassland, the wooden wheels creaking and crunching, the yellow and white paper money falling, and there were no musical instruments to play, only the occasional sound of a gun.

After their funerals, the people waited on the side of the road long before the hearse arrived, when food was thrown into the burning fire.

Jia Daoshi and Geng Xiucai walked at the front of the line, one carrying a white flag.

Jia Daoshi's banner reads "Loyalty and Righteousness", and Geng Xiucai's banner reads "Eternal Liufang".

The hearse moved through the meadows, and nomads were constantly joining behind the messy crowd of mourners, unbuttoning their chests.

All the nomads on the west bank of the Yellow River knew that they would not have been able to cross the Yellow River without these lads giving with their lives. They gave these lads their last ride as if they were their own family.

Three rings.

The first martyr lay on a wooden plank, with a hanging rope on both sides of the board, and slowly descended into the tomb.

The four people waited in the tomb and lifted the stiff corpse into the dark room, where there was a narrow tray of clay kang covered with reed mats, on which the martyrs finally rested.

Geng Xiucai held yellow paper in his hand and sang the life of the martyr:

"Martyr Zhang Sanshun, ancestral home in Baishui County, Shaanxi, born in the spring of the 41st year of Wanli, was naturalized in the fifth year of Chongzhen. Sanshun lost his mother since he was a child, and his brother Dashun and Ershun lived, and once said that there was a jujube tree at the door of his house, which was actually very sweet. The three brothers went missing during Chongzhen's three-year escape. Sanshun likes spicy food, humorous sex, and a black mole on his left calf is the size of a broad bean. Zeng had a feather arrow in his chest, but fortunately he was blocked by the pot helmet bun, and he laughed to ask for credit from the officials. On May 13 of the fifth year of Chongzhen, he died in Yinshan. When the enemy attacked the island on a raft, Sanshun painted himself with river mud, hid on the river beach, waited for the enemy's raft to approach, hit it with a firearm, killed no less than a dozen enemies, and was killed by 17 arrows. Eternal! ”

More than a dozen shovels were thrown into the tomb, and the tomb kang was quickly filled, and a tall pile of graves with big heads and thin tails was raised.

Geng Xiucai sang one martyr after another.

The lives of these martyrs were compiled by him for an afternoon, and Lord Lidel's request was not to write coldly, but to be living people, and it would be better if the relatives of the martyrs could find the martyrs with these biographical information in the future.

After singing the life information of the sixth cavalry commander, six new tombs stood in the quiet grassland.

Geng Xiucai went on to sing the seventh martyr:

"The martyr drilled the sky sentry, his ancestral home is Yanchuan, Shaanxi, his birth date is unknown, and his real name is unknown. Yu Chongzhen became a naturalized Tiemu country in five years. It was said that there was a righteous brother who opened the mountain axe, and the two brothers were not under the mud tent. On the night of May 12 in the fifth year of Chongzhen, the martyr crossed the Yellow River with two sheepskins tied to the fire to ask for help, and disappeared after saving his comrades from danger. Brilliant achievements. ”

"Boom", a tiger squat cannon let out a muffled roar.

Three rings followed.

"Soul ——— return!"

Jia Daoshi shouted in a long voice.

Seven soldiers set off slowly holding the martyrs' tablets.

Daoist Jia faced the martyr's tablet, shook the white flag, and retreated while singing.

"The soul is back! The East is not allowed to be trusted.

The Soul Returns! The South can't stop there.

The Soul Returns! The harm of the West is a thousand miles of quicksand.

The Soul Returns! The north cannot stop.

The Soul Returns! There is no heaven.

The Soul Returns! You have no place in this secluded capital.

The Soul Returns! Enter the Cultivation Door.

The Soul Returns! Anti-former residence.

……”

Daoist Jia retreated all the way, guiding the souls of the dead all the way into a large tent.

Inside the tent, the candlelight flickered, and the cigarette smoke filled.

The soldiers solemnly placed the seven tablets on the west side of the tent.

Geng Xiucai solemnly placed the manuscript of the martyr's life on the east side of the big tent.

Tents are currently very scarce materials, but in order to protect the souls of martyrs from being exposed to the wind and sun, Yang Ritian specially allocated a tent to temporarily place the martyrs' tablets.

Several townships are currently building martyrs' shrines, and before one has been completed, Tiemu Kingdom has ushered in his martyrs.

According to the plan of Director Tie Danzi, the five martyrs' shrines in five townships, all soldiers and people with Tiemu nationality and those who sacrificed their lives for the country can enter the martyrs' shrine in their hometowns and be worshiped by the villagers.

In the previous battle of the woods and crops, the martyrs of the battle of suppressing bandits in Changsheng Township will enter the martyrs' shrine of Shulinzi Township and the martyrs shrine of Changsheng Township respectively.

The martyrs who died in the first battle of Qingshanzui will be buried on the bank of the Yellow River at the foot of Qingshan, and after the martyrs' shrine in Qingshanzui Township is completed, they will be moved into the shrine to receive worship and memorial.

White flags flutter outside the temporary martyrs' shrine:

"Loyalty!"

"Forever!"

The greatest punishment of the ancient Chinese clan for the clansmen was that they could not enter the ancestral hall to worship their ancestors in life and worship their ancestors in death.

A group of veterans who saw the fresh return to their hometowns faintly envied these martyrs in their hearts.

There are even people who have a strong desire churning in their hearts:

Go home! Even if you die, you have to go home!

And the old man Mo Rigen has already decided in his heart to build a great martyr's shrine for the soldiers of the Jin country.