Almost the day after the defeat of the army, the border of the Metropolitan Protectorate, which had finally calmed down, was again looted by the Arabs.

Tongli, eighteen miles, thirty-two miles, a military town settlement with billowing black smoke, the great victory of Busmansu is not only to defeat and destroy the main force of the capital of the Protectorate, but also to disperse the military power accumulated by the Metropolitan Protectorate in the head of the Bedouin tribes, no longer afraid of the retaliation of the Great Min, one by one the Bedouin tribes went forward to attack the Fujian country.

For a time, the small half of the Arabian Peninsula under Li Rang's control was full of smoke, and the army of the Protectorate of the River actually had a tendency to be driven into the sea.

However, the phrase "blessing is incomparable, and disaster is not a single line" is vividly reflected at this time.

The Mesopotamian plains under the control of the Great Min also rippled with waves.

The long supply line, supplying more than 600,000 troops on the front line, even Damin is a heavy burden, this feudal era with backward productivity, agriculture can even dominate the life and death of a dynasty, so once you occupy Mesopotamia, the first magic weapon of Damin is Tuntian.

But it was much more relaxed than in Khorasan, and just after the harvest of winter wheat, the Great Min immediately distributed the crude and registered land, and every Mesopotamian family, even a seventy-year-old man and a two-year-old nursing child, were given a share of the land according to the capitation, and compared with the most relaxed era of Arab rule, taxes fell a lot.

The golden ratio of the prosperous period of China, thirty taxes one.

With his own land, and most of his output is his own, this kind of policy is still paying heavy taxes in Khorasan, struggling to memorize Chinese vocabulary at night, and striving to obtain Tang status in the exam, the eyes of jealousy are red.

There is only one reason why Damin is so generous, grain!

Even if it is not possible to fully supply the military rations of the front-line army, during the autumn harvest, Li Jie also asked the army to raise at least half of the military rations on the spot, so as to prepare for the war to continue to advance into Syria in the autumn and winter.

Mesopotamia is indeed a godsend, the Euphrates and Tigris are two great rivers in West Asia, with the high Caucasus Mountains on the left and the Arabian Desert on the right.

In addition to the loose taxes, the biggest benefit of the Great Min is security, without the various tribes to rule Mesopotamia, no need to serve tiresome military service, at any time worried about their wives and daughters being robbed of food, but also distributed their own granges, the farming tribes under the rule of the Min State really burst out of unparalleled creativity.

In May, the desert is still very hot, the ice and snow in the Caucasus have just melted, and on the fertile crescent soil of the two river basins, half of the rivers and mountains occupied by the Great Min are already full of green wheat seedlings.

However, not everyone is so welcoming to this policy.

Near the lower reaches of the Tigris, sixty miles outside the city of Ctesiphon.

The sunset is obliquely shining, a piece of afterglow is spread on the earth, and the wheat seedlings are coated with a layer of gold in the neat ditches, as if the plants representing hope are made of gold, bright and dazzling.

In the midst of pleasant laughter, groups of government soldiers wearing black infantry armor of the Fujian army carried hoes, and walked happily to the small villages stationed nearby.

In addition to Mintun, Li Jie also ordered that in Mesopotamia, on both sides of the Tigris River, almost 200,000 soldiers laid down their arms on the spot to carry out production, and everywhere were oily green wheat fields cultivated by them.

However, between the Juntun field and the nearby Persian Mintun Grange, a wheat field is scattered, the ridges and ditches are crooked, and the wheat in the field is also like malnutrition, it seems to be dying, there is no irrigation, and the field is full of salt and weeds.

This field belonged to the Bedouin tribes who had relocated to the valley of the two rivers.

Aziz was one of the owners of the land, and the young Arab in his twenties could not be happy at all about his own land, but his face was sad and he stirred the weeds in the field for a while.

He didn't pull out much of the grass, but he plucked a few more of them, and when he made out them, the young Arab, with a swarthy face and strong muscles, threw them all back in annoyance, and stepped on them a few times.

Owning your own land is not a blessing for the Bedouins, but it seems to have become a bit of a torture.

Even in later generations, there are still a considerable number of Bedouins who live the most primitive nomadic life, taking camels through the desert, Bedouins are too freedom-loving, and too lazy, grazing cattle and sheep in the wind and sand is okay for them, they are tied to the land all day long, and farming from five to nine in the morning is more uncomfortable than killing them.

Originally, the tribes of Aziz migrated to the valley of the two rivers during the great expansion of the second caliphate, and many Bedouin tribes did this, building military camps according to the orders of the caliphate, still living a nomadic life, and segregated from the local population.

Later, although the Arab Empire changed its regime, the ban on the Bedouins not being allowed to occupy the local land was broken, and the only thing did not become a little bit, the Bedouins were still unwilling to turn over and get off the camel, and then take up the hoe and cultivate with peace of mind.

Aziz's tribe is like this, occupying a large area of farmland and enslaving the local population to farm, the Bedouin tribesmen only fight, since they were more than ten years old, they have been in contact with horseback to kill people, and now it is as difficult as forcing camels to burrow into dog holes to get Aziz to grow wheat honestly.

"Damn King Min, sooner or later he will be sent to Hell by Allah!"

Angry and cursed in Arabic, he squatted on the ground for a long time, but Aziz had to pull up weeds in the field again.

There was no way, there was no one to feed the hot bread to bake now, and if there was no harvest in the autumn, his whole family would starve.

The last rays of the sun shone obliquely in the wheat field, and Aziz didn't finish the weeds, and the angry young Arab stomped his feet and cursed non-stop, but at this moment, from the tower in the community, there was a long and charming shout from the shouter, and almost immediately dropped the hoe, and Aziz immediately ran excitedly towards the community village.

Within minutes, the village mosque was overcrowded, crowded with men from the tribe who had their last night's lesson.

The Grand Imam Rahman, who is almost in his sixties, holds the Qur'an and kneels at the front to lead all the Bedouins to bow to the Lord.

However, the atmosphere of the evening class also seemed to be unusual, and the group of Muslims was more or less restless, and some even looked into the back room behind the mosque without regard for etiquette.

In this case, even Rahman was a little impatient, and after hastily finishing the evening class, he didn't say hello, and hurriedly went into the back room, and after a while, in the speculation of a group of Bedouin men, he was wearing a black robe and wrapping, and his face was especially dry under the wind and sand, and a stout Arab man came out, facing a pair of expectant eyes, and said solemnly.

"You're guessing right these days, Mecca has indeed sent an emissary to lead everyone to rebel against the rule of the Fujian pagans!"

In an instant, Aziz felt his heart beat a little faster, and the hot blood suddenly came to his mind, and his fists were clenched......