Winter is coming to an end, the haze weather has finally dissipated, today is a change from the usual gloom, it is rare to be a sunny day, the sun rushes out of the dark clouds, the reflected sunlight shuttles between the branches, weaving into a golden silk, it looks extraordinarily clear. Pen % fun % Pavilion www.biquge.info

But it was such a warm day, but the faces of everyone in Chongyang County were full of depth, at this moment, the soldiers ended their training, the laborers put down their tools, and even Jia Xu, who had not appeared for a long time, appeared in the crowd.

Huangfu Mu stood above the crowd dressed in black, at this moment, his expression was solemn, his eyes were indifferent, even if he didn't speak, he could still make people understand the heavy aura on his body.

In front of him was the Shadow Guard led by Wu Feng, bloody battles, they were already the most qualified warriors, at this time, the twenty people standing in the front were holding a gray jar in their hands, and in it, were the ashes of the soldiers who had died in the plundering battle before.

Quiet and peaceful.

More than twenty people died in the war, among them were the Huns, the Han and the original people of the county, but at this moment, they had a common identity, one of the Shadow Guards.

Death, for the vast majority of people born in the Gobi, feels a little common and common.

This kind of ordinariness does not mean that they have a hard heart, no desire and no love, compared with other places, they have blood, they have flesh, they also have seven emotions and six desires, but the desolation of the Gobi, the environment, the robbers, and the food can all constitute the conditions for death.

Life and death, death and life, for them, they can face life and departure more intuitively than those who live in a comfortable and stable environment.

Sacrifice to the souls of the dead.

For the people of Chongyang County, this is a strange and novel word.

The dead are dead, and the living still need to live, to live on this land that seems to be abandoned, and they are accustomed to disposing of corpses with frugal imitations, or burying them, or burning, and even wild burials and sky burials, but for many years, they have never participated in a scene similar to the present sacrifice of hundreds of people.

Huangfu Mu's solemn face seemed to be joyless and sad, but in the depths of his eyes, there was a trace of blood and scarlet that could not be resolved.

What makes a force strong?

Sharp weapons? Tall war horses? A successful scheme? Or a warlike commander?

These reasons may be able to make the troops victorious, but they still do not represent their strength, in other words, if there are no weapons? Don't have a war horse? Don't have a plan? And there is no commander of Yum? And how are they going to fight? How to win?

The spirit of the army.

The word that carries the strength of the troops is not an external force, but an internal force.

What is the spirit of the army?

In the face of a powerful opponent, knowing that you are invincible, you must resolutely show your sword, even if you fall, you must become a mountain and a ridge! What awe-inspiring, what determination, what pleasure, what courage!

If one day, the troops under his command can condense such a spirit, and at that time, they can truly defeat one enemy and ten battles!

Tomb of the Faithful Soul.

In Jia Xu's view, this is also a strange word, for him whose wisdom is already at some peak, ridiculing and ridiculing the emperor has become one of his daily routines, from building bridges and paving roads, to making suggestions, he can always find dozens of reasonable reasons to refute the young leader who trapped him here.

But this time, when the Emperor Fu Mu asked him to discuss the Tomb of the Loyal Soul, he was surprisingly silent.

The empty cemetery does not have any tombstones, but only the holes that look like nests, which are the places where the ashes altar is buried, and it is also the tomb of the loyal soul in the mouth of the emperor.

In front of the cemetery, there is a huge stone block five meters high, even if these dead people do not have tombstones, but on the stone, there are engraved the names, ages and years of death of these dead people, a full twenty people, not missing, never lost.

"What a ruthless guy who wants to buy hearts with thousands of potholes and a worthless stone, no matter how you look at it, it's a successful deal." Standing in the crowd, Jia Xu, who was wearing a sheepskin jacket, said with a strange smile.

The dead, the soul also.

Death does not enter the ground, the soul does not return to the card, it is for the lonely soul, superior to the wild ghost.

The burial of the dead is a ritual that must be completed for both the Han and the Huns.

Even if the Xiongnu were more barbaric than the Han people, and adopted wild burials or sky burials, it also implied the supreme meaning of hiding the body of the beast and returning the soul to the heavens.

However, even if the people are poor, they also have straw mats, but the soldiers are not like this, in ancient times, they fought hand-to-hand combat, except for the noble status and the powerful kings and nobles, how many ordinary soldiers can really return to their hometown?

The Tomb of the Loyal Soul is a tomb, but it is also the place where the hometown is.

In addition to building a place to bury the bones of the soldiers, the emperor's wish is also an attempt to condense the military souls of his soldiers!

Even if there are only twenty names on this stele of loyal souls now, in the future, in the turbulence of the era of bloody rain and human life, the names on this stele will only increase more and more until it is filled.

It has nothing to do with cold-bloodedness, nothing to do with desolation, this is the only way for everyone who claims to be a king and an emperor.

The bones are the road, and the flesh is the bridge.

At that point, the stone tablet, made of the flesh and blood of millions of people, will eventually erupt with a terrifying soul and essence.

The soul of the army, this intangible, invisible, is not groundless, with it, a force has the backbone, with it, the army can not be defeated in a hundred battles, with it, in order to truly win the country, the blade of the blade.

The young commander, who had stayed here in the year of the crown and had single-handedly transformed the county town that had been barren to the brink of destruction, slowly pulled out the sword at his waist, and at this moment, his somewhat delicate face became even whiter, but instead of giving people a morbid feeling, this white was filled with an inexplicable sacredness.

Build a stele with stone and engrave people with words.

No matter how much cold-bloodedness, selfishness or indifference he carries in his heart, at this moment, in the eyes of everyone, he is like a god, shining on the world.

Huangfu Mu looked at the people of Chongyang who got rid of poverty and slavery in front of him, and said slowly: "The monument is in the people, the monument is dead, from now on, all the war dead will enter this monument, I promise, live to let you live and be healthy, and die to let you be in peace, if you violate the oath, the heavens and the earth will be destroyed, and the people and gods will not exist!" ”

Violent wheezing was heard in the crowd, not only the soldiers, but also ordinary people and laborers.

Living in troubled times, they really don't have extra ambitions, it's good to live, even if they are tired, even if they are bitter, as long as they live, they are willing.

But when the time is not right, people are not as good as grass, even if there are many killings between the same race, not to mention aliens and relatives!

The tribe was destroyed, their families were killed, they had the same resentment, they had the same hatred, but here, even as laborers, they did not experience the slightest humiliation, on the contrary, delicious food and warm shelter, these demands that they had never dared to imagine before, were fulfilled here.

As time goes on, they become more and more contradictory, to live or to die? For people born in troubled times, this is a slightly sad choice.

Although they want to hold on to their hatred, they have learned to forget and integrate in the face of life.

It's nice here, it's strange, but it's something to rely on.

At this moment, listening to the oath of the emperor and the shepherd, everyone breathed heavily and clenched their fists.

The past will eventually pass, and the future is the achievement and vision pursued by the people here.

Hello tomorrow and see you yesterday.