The fire at the mouth of the Bian family was still burning, and the light of the fire reflected the sky red. Pen @ fun @ pavilion wWw. ｂｉｑUｇE。 infoPeople in some places have been unable to enter, and in the sound of "thunderbolts", the roof beams and tiles have been falling non-stop. The fire caused the temperature in this area to rise sharply, making the faces of the Taiping soldiers who were searching for and treating the wounded soldiers red, and they were hot to the touch.

In the fire, it is not only the house debris that burns, but also the corpses. No one knows how many corpses are burning in the fire, but the smell of burnt meat in the air is anything but unpleasant. Many brave Taiping soldiers could endure the mountains of corpses and the sea of blood, the blood of human organs and brains, and the severed arms and limbs all over the ground, but they could not endure the smell of corpse oil.

When Zhou Shixiang came all the way, he saw that many soldiers were vomiting. He shook his head, looked back and found that many of his guards were also vomiting, but Yao Wenlong, a fellow villager in Xinhui, had a calm face, looking at his breathing very smoothly, and he didn't seem to smell the "fragrance" at all. Zhou Shixiang didn't ask Yao Wenlong why he was so calm, because he knew the answer. This answer is also the most painful memory in his heart.

Not far away, the long beams of a large house finally fell to the ground in the flames, smashing into smoke and sparks.

"Help me..."

In the midst of the fire, there was a faint cry for help. Yao Wenlong turned sideways in front of Da Shuai, lest there be any danger there.

Zhou Shixiang looked fixedly, and a person was slowly moving towards this side with difficulty. He is said to be human, but he is not, because there is smoke coming from this person's body.

Yao Wenlong walked up to the man and looked at it, this was a Qing soldier, his back and limbs were scorched, and his face was also scorched, and he couldn't tell whether it was Han Chinese, Manchurian or Mongol. When the man saw someone coming, he struggled to prop up his arm and call for help, but as soon as his arm was raised, it snapped and broke, and the tips of the broken bones were heavily pierced on the ground, and a stream of hot air gushed out from the fracture. Yao Wenlong looked at the Qing soldier who was almost cooked with an expressionless face, and cut it open on his back with a knife. Like a knife cutting tofu, the back of the Qing soldier was easily cut by the tip of the knife. The upper epidermal layer is ripe, and the lower part is half-cooked, and the moment it is dissected, the same hot air gushes.

Putting the knife into the scabbard, Yao Wenlong came back and reported: "It's a tartar." ”

Zhou Shixiang nodded slightly, since he is a Tartar, no matter whether he is Han or Manchurian, there is no need to save him, and besides, looking at him like that, he can't be saved.

"Dashuai!"

"Your Highness!"

Along the way, all the Taiping soldiers who saw Zhou Shixiang shouted excitedly, calling the handsome the descendants of the Taiping Army, and calling His Royal Highness the original Zheng Army and Zhejiang Army. These two titles sound no different, they both represent Zhou Shixiang's identity, but if you taste it carefully, they are a little different.

The soldiers were busy treating the wounded and searching for available ordnance, and Zhou Shixiang raised his hand to signal them to do their own thing. He stopped in front of a seriously injured Baihu, this Baihu was: a veteran of Guangdong, a native of Xiangshan, one of his legs was cut off by the Qing soldiers, and he lost so much blood that he only had his last breath left.

"Handsome... I... Mother..."

The hundred households muttered a few words before they died, although they didn't know what he wanted to say to themselves, but Zhou Shixiang understood what he meant, and he turned around and ordered an army lieutenant envoy who was registering the wounded: "Go back and place his mother in Guangzhou, and the military marshal's mansion will be specially provided." ”

After watching the corpses of the hundred households being carried away, Zhou Shixiang sighed, the specific losses of this battle are being counted in each town, and there is no accurate result for the time being, but judging from the corpses and seriously injured people in front of him, Zhou Shixiang knows that the casualties will not be small.

Some of the men requisitioned from Nanking were transporting the wounded on stretchers to the medical clinic in the canal, where the lightly wounded were simply bandaged and then returned to the troops, while the seriously wounded were sent back to Nanking in batches by the sailors.

On the banks of the canal, the sounds of pain filled the ears, and from time to time soldiers died of their injuries. Their bodies were carried out by their companions and placed one by one along the river. Each Taiping soldier wore a name tag around their neck, engraved with their name, place of origin, and the battalion guard they belonged to during their lifetime.

Due to the influence of his previous life, Zhou Shixiang required every Taiping soldier to register one thing with the Anjun envoy when they entered the camp, that is, after their death, whether they would be willing to be buried in the collective cemetery of the Taiping Army, or transported back to their hometown and buried in the land where they grew up. At the same time, he ordered the Ministry of Industry to cast iron name plates to ensure that every Taiping soldier who died in the war could leave their names and deeds in the world.

Perhaps, some people are destined to flash like meteors in this troubled world, but even if it is a meteor, there is always starlight when it flashes. If you are a person, you have a name, you have a hometown, and you have a concern.

According to the statistics of the Marshal's Office, less than 10 of the 10,000 soldiers are willing to be buried in the collective cemetery, and the rest are asking the troops to transport their bones back to their hometowns for burial in case they die in battle.

The custom of the Han people is that people return to their roots, no matter how big an official they are outside and how much wealth they make, most of them choose to return to their hometowns and die in the end, because that is their roots.

It is very difficult to transport the body back to the hometown for burial, and it is possible in the winter, but it is almost impossible to do it in the spring and summer. Transporting corpses thousands of miles is certainly a feat and a righteous act, but it will cause unnecessary epidemics. At present, Zhou Shixiang does not have good transportation conditions to ensure that the bones of every soldier can return to his hometown after death, so if conditions allow, such as autumn and winter, he will fulfill the wishes of the soldiers. Otherwise, they can only choose to be cremated and their ashes sent back to their hometown.

In the medical camp, Zhou Shixiang saw a hellish scene on earth, and the painful struggle of the wounded soldiers made him see it in his eyes and hurt in his heart. Everyone is raised by a father and mother, no one is more noble than the other, and they are born superior. Therefore, he did not think that these soldiers should die for themselves and for the revival of the Han nation, they were just one of the unfortunate. However, no one can prevent this misfortune from happening, on the contrary, this misfortune will continue until there are no more aliens in the land of China.

No soldier struggled to get up when he saw the arrival of the marshal, and if he wanted to say anything moving, Zhou Shixiang didn't need them to do it. The atmosphere in the medical camp was very negative, even hopeless. Zhou Shixiang also did not think that his comfort and encouragement could make these dying soldiers survive, and could bring those soldiers with broken hands and feet back to life. All he could do was walk forward amid the wailing, and he couldn't even affect the rescue of Lang Zhong and the guards.

Walking out of the medical camp and coming to the canal, Zhou Shixiang exhaled. The breath was like fog in the cold air. The cold wind blows the canal water, but behind it is a fire that reflects half the sky.

Blood and fire, cold and heat, are intertwined here.

Yu Shizhong and Tie Yi came over, and they told Zhou Shixiang that there were more than 10,000 prisoners captured, including more than 2,000 Manchu and Mongolian soldiers.

"There are a lot of these Qing soldiers, and our casualties are too great, so we can make up for them in various towns."

Yu Shizhong suggested not to kill the prisoners, although the battle was won, but it was also a tragic victory, the casualties in each town were more than 8,000 people, and some battalions were seriously short of personnel, and they urgently needed to be replenished with new soldiers, so it was better to make up for these prisoners in the towns.

Tie Yi was noncommittal.

Zhou Shixiang stared at the canal for a moment, but turned sideways and said, "Kill them all, not a single one is left." ”

.........

An author friend of the starting point author group asked me to help recommend his book to everyone, and I agreed, we are all writers, and we support each other and move forward together.

The title of the book is "From the Primeval Jungle to the Sea of Stars", this book is hot-blooded, and after reading it, it becomes thicker and harder, and hard as iron abounds.

This please have the spare to help the bones, and if you can collect this book, you can collect it, so that the bones will have face to brag in the group: Look, my readers are powerful! (To be continued.) )