Gou Baidu looked at the strange movements of the deputy general, and suddenly understood, and couldn't help but break out in a cold sweat.

At the same time, the guards behind the lieutenant general also acted in the same way as the lieutenant.

Their posture is very similar to the movements of the gunners of Citigroup when they duel!

Don't...... These Bo cavalry, all of them use revolvers?!

Gou Baidu's hand touching the handle of the gun froze.

Lu Ersheng didn't see the clue, he suddenly pulled out the revolver on his waist, and was about to fire at the lieutenant general, but saw that the lieutenant had a large round-handled short gun with a carved barrel (not a revolver) in his hand, and the muzzle of the gun spewed out a ball of fire at him, followed by a thunderous roar.

Lu Ersheng's chest spewed out a cloud of blood mist, and his fat body seemed to be pierced by a powerful force, and he fell off the horse in an instant, lying face down on the ground, convulsing incessantly, seeing that he couldn't live.

The adjutant general let out a happy roar, looking at Li Xiangtian and the three of them defiantly, the barrel of the gun in his hand was still smoking.

Gou Baidu gritted his teeth and slowly withdrew his hand.

"You three, why, do you want to be like him?" The deputy general seemed to think that killing Lu Ersheng was not enough, and looked Li Xiangtian and the three up and down, as if he was looking forward to which of them would shoot again.

At that moment, the sound of gunfire and the clash of swords was heard in the woods, as well as the sound of hurried shouts.

Li Xiangtian understood that the people who were waiting for them in the forest were now also being attacked by officers and soldiers.

After a while, the forest fell silent, and Li Xiangtian's heart also sank.

He saw Lin Yiqing.

"Huh. Lord Lin. Do you see that? These thieves. I was scared and didn't dare to move! The deputy general couldn't help laughing when he saw Lin Yiqing and his party coming out of the forest, dragging a few injured people.

"General Sa is really powerful, this thief is very fierce, and when he saw General Sa, he was like a mouse seeing a cat." Lin Yiqing smiled and said with a smile and raised his hand to this deputy general, Sabintu, the deputy general of the "Vermilion Bird" Division of the Eighth Army stationed in Xiamen.

"When Lord Lin came to Xiamen, I didn't know how to say a word, I would do my best as a landlord. Although it is peaceful now, one or two thieves are always indispensable. In case Lord Lin has a mistake, how can I be happy! Sabintu smiled and replied to Lin Yiqing, but the gun in his hand did not relax in the slightest.

"It's just to come to the shipyard and take a look, I didn't want to alarm General Sa, but I didn't expect to be targeted by the thieves, so I had to use the silver medal, and I asked General Sa to forgive me for the abruptness." Lin Yiqing said with a smile.

"I saw Lord Lin's silver medal and knew you were in trouble. How dare you slack off, immediately order all the soldiers and horses and rush here. It's a pity that the guys in the hostel were useless, they didn't block the thieves, but they still let them escape, so I personally led the team to catch up, but fortunately I didn't let them run away. ”

He immediately pointed at Li Xiangtian and the other three with the barrel of his gun, as if the three of them were already his prisoners, "Lord Lin, take a look, are these three people?" ”

"Yes." Lin Yiqing nodded, and his eyes fell on the gun in Sabintu's hand - this is a short-barreled gun with an American Deringer-style structure, between a pistol and a carbine, although the style is a little old, but it is very well-made and powerful, but the disadvantage is that the ammunition capacity is small, only two rounds, and the bolt must be opened after shooting, and the cartridge case can be reloaded after being taken out, so the loading speed is also slow, and it is not suitable for use as a military firearm. But Lin Yiqing noticed at this moment that each of the 500 cavalry under Sabintu's command had such two guns stuck in their backs, and judging from their movements, they had done special training on how to use this kind of gun. The handles of their guns were all covered with copper, and they had apparently been trained to use them as war hammers after running out of bullets.

The moment Sabintu shot just now, Lin Yiqing had already seen the power of his shot, and couldn't help but be secretly surprised by the lieutenant's marksmanship.

The Great Qian Empire has come to this day, and its armaments are slack, and it can be seen everywhere, but the deputy general of the Bo people in front of him and the 500 cavalry under him still maintain the glory of this ancient imperial soldier.

Looking at these Boren cavalry, Lin Yiqing had some new ideas about reforming the military system of the Daqian Empire.

"I'll count to three, the three of you, if you don't tie your hands and catch them, you will be killed." The adjutant general looked at Li Xiangtian and the three of them and said in a deep voice.

With his voice, the guards behind him all pulled out their guns and aimed them at Li Xiangtian and the others.

"One."

Gou Baidu's face showed a nervous look, and Mo Long's hands were trembling.

"Two."

Li Xiangtian took a deep breath and said, "I will wait for the surrender and ask the general to spare the lives of the three of us." ”

As he spoke, he dropped the knife in his hand, and slowly pulled out the revolver at his waist and threw it on the ground.

Seeing that Li Xiangtian dropped a revolver, the adjutantant's eyes emitted a strange light, and Lin Yiqing took in the view.

Seeing that Li Xiangtian had already disarmed, Gou Baidu and Mo Long sighed, and also took out the knives and guns on their bodies respectively and threw them on the ground.

※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※

Sitting on the porch of the house that now belonged to her, with a light writing desk on her lap, she dipped her pen in ink and wrote: You must know: everything between us is still good in spite of your long gone, and I will never hide any thoughts from you. Don't bother with similar worries. You know, I think it's our shared responsibility to communicate with the utmost candor and sincerity. Let our hearts always be open to each other.

She blew the paper dry and revisited what she had just written with a critical eye. She was dissatisfied with her calligraphy, and no matter how hard she tried, she could never write beautiful fonts like flowing water. On the contrary, she has to write the characters in a thick and dense manner, as if they were like a nylvan. What dissatisfied her more than calligraphy was the tone of the writing. She crumpled up the letter and threw it into the boxwood hedge.

She said to herself: It's just a cliché, and it doesn't make sense at all.

She looked out into the garden on the other side of the yard, and although the growing season was already sufficient, the beans, pumpkins, and tomatoes barely caught the size of her thumb. Many of the leaves of vegetables have been eaten by insects until only the veins remain. The ridges are overgrown with weeds. One head higher than the vegetables. Jesenia couldn't name them. I don't have the energy or heart to eradicate it. The barren vegetable garden was once a cornfield, but now it is encroached upon by shoulder-high poisonous merchant land and sumac trees. The morning mist cleared, and the mountains that towered at the ends of the fields and pastures were just showing their pale outlines, more of the ghosts of the mountains than mountains.

Jesenia sat still, waiting for them to show their faces. It was a comfort for her to see what was always the case. Otherwise. She would be depressed by the fact that everything else in front of her was depressed. Since the funeral of her adoptive father, Papa Pablo, Jesenia has paid little attention to the farm. However, she milked the cows and fed the horses. But she didn't do more, and she didn't know how to do it. As for the chickens, she left them to fend for themselves. One by one, they became lean and hid when they saw people. Yesenia was very annoyed with the hens, because they gave up their nests and flew to the trees to hide, and laid their eggs whenever they wanted. No matter where you are. In order to find eggs, she had to search every corner of the yard. Recently, she felt that the eggs tasted something strange. Because the hen's recipe has gone from leftovers to bugs.

Solving the cooking problem became a top priority for Yesenia. In the summer, when she was not hungry, she basically ate nothing but a little milk, an omelette, a salad, and a few plates of miniature tomatoes picked from the overgrown seedlings that no one tended to. Even butter has become an unattainable treasure, and the milk that she stirs by hand never curdles enough to produce a little runny curd. She really wanted a bowl of hot chicken dough soup and a yellow peach pie, but she couldn't do anything.

Jesenia looked at the mountains in the distance again, still hazy and confused. She got up to look for the eggs, first along the path to check the weeds growing by the hedge, then to the side yard, where she parted the peach tree roots and looked at a large tuft of weeds, then rummaged through the clutter in the backyard, and groped around the dusty shelves in the tool room. She didn't find anything.

She remembered that there was a red hen that had been a frequent haunt in the boxwood bushes on either side of the front steps of the door lately. Jesenia walked over to the bush into which she had thrown the letter, and tried her best to pull out the dense foliage and peek in, but it was so dark that she could see nothing. She wrapped her skirt tightly around her legs and squeezed it in on all fours, branches scraping across her forearms, face, and neck. The ground beneath the palms of your hands is very dry, littered with chicken feathers, dried chicken droppings, and withered leaves. Climb inside, and in the middle is a clearing. Outside, the dense foliage is like a curtain, enclosing an enclosed space, like a hut.

Jesenia sat up and looked around the ground and the surrounding branches, only to see a broken eggshell with jagged edges, containing a reddish-brown dried egg yolk. She found a gap between two branches and sat with her back to a tree trunk to rest. The shade of the boxwood trees is filled with the smell of dust and the pungent smell of chickens. The dim light reminded her of playing in a childhood where she had spread a tablecloth on a table or a rug on a clothesline, pretending to be a cave underneath. The best part of the fun is on the neighbor's farm, where she and the neighbor's daughter, Santi, dig deep holes in the haystack. On a rainy day, they were in it all afternoon, whispering, dry and comfortable, like little foxes hiding in their nests.

As the familiar pleasure flowed through her body, Yesenia's breathing tightened, and she realized that she was hiding again as before. Anyone who walks from the gate to the porch will never find her hiding here. If a pious lady came to inquire out of obligation, she could sit motionless, no matter how much they knocked on the door and called her name, until the latch of the courtyard door was struck long after she came out. However, it is estimated that no one will come, due to her coldness, the number of guests has become scarce day by day, and it is gradually becoming none.

Yesenia looked up at the slightly pale blue sky through the gaps in the leaves. She was a little disappointed, it would be nice if it rained, the rain rustled the leaves on her head, and it would make her feel more secure. The occasional drop or two spilled through the void, making a small pit in the dust, only made the contrast more intense—and though it was pouring rain outside, she was pleasantly dry here. Yesenia wished she would never have to leave this lovely haven, and looking back on her recent experiences, she could not think of anyone else who had been brought up more unfit for the hard life of being exposed.

Ever since she was the only one left in the house, Jesenia realized that she had terrible few skills to earn a living. Judging by the way her father ran the business, it wasn't so much for a living. It's better to realize some of the ideas in your heart. Papa Pablo has never developed much interest in the boring side of farming. His point is: If you can afford to buy feed and food. Why plant too much corn, as long as there is enough to roast and eat; If you can buy bacon and pork chops, why bother dealing with dirty hogs?

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