The Qing army's counterattack has arrived as the sun rises!

In order to extinguish the uprising as soon as possible and minimize the impact, the Qing army mobilized almost all the forces that could be mobilized within the scope of time.

A large number of Qing troops in Meishan and Yibin gathered under Leshan City at the first time, including the most elite new troops:

Thirty-three mixed into sixty-six standards!

The Qing army, armed with new weapons and eyeing the enemy, has besieged Leshan.

When Liu Hongkui's order was issued, the most tragic defense battle in the history of the Sichuan Revolutionary Party uprising began!

More than 1,000 rebels have already put life and death on the line, and while desperately resisting the enemy's attack, they did their best to launch a final attack on the Leshan arsenal!

Under the blow of the Qing army's new firearms, most of the rebels who relied on primitive weapons to fight fell one after another, and Leshan was instantly wrapped in a thick smell of blood!

The insurgents are dying in large numbers, but they are fearless and still defend the city!

The dead insurgents would never know that an officer named Wang Hengyue had tried his best to get everything he could for them, and that the most terrible shelling did not happen.

If the artillery team arrives, then the whole Leshan will become a hell of a benevolent world, and all the insurgents, innocent people, and "their own people" who are holding the arsenal will be drowned in the rumbling cannons.

Maybe he was not very at ease with Wang Hengyue, or maybe in order to reward Wang Hengyue, Liu Hongkui did not let the first team participate in the attack, but just asked them to be strictly guarded to prevent the chaotic party from escaping.

From this point of view, Wang Hengyue is still grateful to Liu Hongkui.

I don't want to get the blood of the insurgents on my hands

The brothers in the first team regretted that the chaotic party had become a turtle in the urn, and it was a pity that they could not catch up with the credit of such a hand.

Wang Hengyue couldn't tell his brother that such a credit would not be good now or in the future

Leshan.

Bullets whistled in the air, and firelight filled the city.

A dozen of the rebels were surrounded by a large group of Qing troops into a small room. One of them, an insurrectionary soldier from the New Army, kept shooting with his gun.

He had to keep the enemy at bay, and in the house there were more than a dozen rebels with only broadswords and pikes.

The firepower of the Qing army was too fierce, and the rebel soldiers tried to help their comrades open a bloody path several times, but each time they were pressed back by the Qing army.

Suddenly, the gunfire in the house stopped, and the insurgents looked anxiously towards it.

"There are no bullets." The rebel soldier shook his head in despair.

"Dog, then let's all die here today!" A big man stood up laughing, holding a big knife tightly in his hand:

"Brothers, there is no way to live, it is a man, let's kill it together, and after eighteen years, I will be a good man again, rush!"

Dahan was the first to rush out, but then a dense burst of shooting sounded outside, and Dahan rushed forward two steps, falling with bullet holes all over his body.

"Brothers, rush out, you'll be a good man again in eighteen years!"

The people in the house rushed out one after another, knowing that there was death outside, knowing that there was no way out of life, but they still rushed out without looking back!

Not for anything else, just to live vigorously, and then die vigorously!

Many of them were a group of ordinary people before: porters and vegetable sellers, they didn't know what revolution was, they only knew that they really couldn't live anymore, they only knew that the dragon head had given an order, they only knew that if they couldn't live, they would have to rebel, and they only knew that if the rebellion failed, they would definitely die.

That's all!

So every one of them died, and these people, who were still alive and kicking just a moment ago, fell in a pool of blood. The rebel soldier watched, just watched, his companions die in front of him.

Tears flowed from his eyes.

Why do so many people die? Why don't they have reinforcements?

From the very beginning of the uprising, they had been fighting, thinking they could succeed, but they still failed.

He didn't want to die, he didn't want to die at all about this soldier.

How good is it to be alive? You can see the blue sky, you can see the white clouds, you can eat it and it makes people drool when you hear the name, but unfortunately soon, all this is gone

With only one bulletless gun left in his hand, the soldier glanced outside, and he saw that the enemy was cautiously approaching the area.

The soldier sighed, wiped away his tears, and drew his bayonet.

But as soon as he drew his bayonet, his tears flowed down again. He pointed his bayonet at his heart with trembling hands, but he couldn't do anything.

It really can't be done, and it takes far more courage to commit suicide than ever.

He scolded himself in his heart for being a coward, but no matter how much he scolded, he just didn't have the courage to do it.

He looked around and saw the door. He walked over, closed the door, and then stood behind it, pointed the point of his bayonet at his heart, and pressed the other end against the door.

gone, and in a while I will be able to leave this world.

He just wanted to ask, why did every previous uprising fail again and again? Why do so many people sacrifice fearlessly, but not even one victory?

Unfortunately, he could no longer know the answer.

The door was kicked open with a hard kick, and the bayonet stabbed deep into his heart

The soldier fell limply, and with the help of the hands of the enemy, he accomplished the last feat of his life!

No one knows what his surname, his name is, or how old he is, in the eyes of the rebels, he is a martyr, but in the eyes of the Qing army, he is a chaotic party.

Like those comrades who have died, in a few years, when people celebrate their victories, they will be forgotten by all.

Victory never belongs to the dead.

Few people will remember that victory was won by defeat after defeat, and success was bought by ignoring the blood of people with lofty ideals.

Victory, only to those who are still alive at the end!

At most, many years later, a monument will be erected here, on which will be written how many martyrs' tombs of the Leshan Uprising. Even in their name, future generations don't bother to ask.

At most, I went to the monument at the commemoration of the uprising, and then when I turned around, I didn't remember that there were many, many people who gave their lives for the sake of victory buried here.

At most, at the time of victory, some victorious leader would meet for a few seconds with a sad face, and in short words, there had been an uprising here, and then the victors would laugh and cheer loudly that victory had finally been achieved.

That's all, that's all!