At dawn, they arrived at the destination of their trip. Then he rode his horse over the frozen river and began a massacre without warning.

A few months earlier, the shepherds, under the leadership of the Hosana Khan, a little khan of Turkic royal blood who refused to call himself Turkic, had driven out the Han Chinese who had lived in Ulanji and killed all those who refused to relocate. According to the Khan, the land on the banks of the Yellow River originally belonged to the Hosana tribe, and it was a long, long time ago that the Han emperor took them away from the Hosana tribe. And before the nomadic tribe of Hosana reached the east bank of the Yellow River, whether the original owners of this land were Han or Qiang, or the Huns who had disappeared, Hosana Khan did not say, and the herdsmen did not intend to find out too clearly. It was enough for them to know that the land that the Han people had watered with the water of the Yellow River was ripe and that it would grow far better when they planted millet than the land they had cultivated themselves.

When the central dynasty was strong, the clans had to restrain their behavior and even lose their property. When the Central Plains Dynasty declined, all tribes could take advantage of the opportunity to become powerful, and even have the opportunity to turn all the land north of the Yangtze River into their own pastures. It's a cycle that has been going on for thousands of years, and no one can break it.

Therefore, when a shepherd robs and kills, there is no need to give a reason in advance. Similarly, the Flying Tigers crossed the river to kill without prior notice. As a result, the massacre that had taken place a few months ago began to repeat itself, only this time the killer and the slain were reversed.

The herdsmen had no idea that someone would suddenly rush out of the other side of the Yellow River in such weather, so they did not have time to put up an effective resistance. The two sentries who remained in the enemy tower at the entrance of the village raised their heads in the violent sound of horses' hooves, and before they could even issue the alarm, they were killed by Li Shimin and Liu Hongji with one arrow. Then Hou Junji led people to tie the enemy building with a lasso, if the kind of simple thing built with a few pieces of wood can also be called the enemy building. A few soldiers on horseback pulled hard, and the enemy tower immediately fell apart, and the corpses inside fell heavily, and blood splashed high with the mud.

The sound of the collapse of the enemy tower woke up several tribal warriors sleeping in houses near the entrance of the village, who were naked, rubbing their eyes as they rushed out of the windows. The Han Chinese built their houses out of mud and timber were much warmer than the shepherds' tents, so the tribesmen who first moved into the houses often slept too much. By the time they clumsily jumped off the windowsill, a war horse had already rushed in front of them. Liu Hongji, on horseback, swept the lance sideways, slicing open the belly of the opponent like cutting a melon. The sleepy-eyed shepherd suddenly lowered his head and saw his entrails steaming outward. Then he screamed in pain, screaming bitterly and desperately.

Four months ago, when he snatched the last sack of wheat from the owner of the house, the old man in his sixties who could not run used to let out the same scream. Because of the language barrier between the two sides, the samurai couldn't understand what the other party was called, so they just laughed. Today, he finally understood the other party's mood at that time, but unfortunately it was too late.

Liu Hongji didn't look back, and quickly ran past the deceased. A cavalryman in black armor followed behind him, slicing off the head of another stunned shepherd with a horizontal knife. The first time he killed, the cavalry was a little unsure. His opponent's blood splattered from his cavity and sprayed him all over his face. "Oh!" The cavalryman felt his stomach twitch, and what he had eaten in the middle of the night poured directly from his throat into his mouth. He gritted his teeth and swallowed the sour and bitter stuff back into his stomach. Then he wiped his face with the back of his hand, wiping away the blood and tears. Then, he swung his sword and rushed at another tribal warrior who rushed out from behind the door, without fear.

"Kill them all!" I don't know who shouted a sentence while running, in Chinese. The people in the tribe don't understand, and even if they do, it doesn't matter. Wars between tribes and tribes on the side did not have the habit of leaving prisoners, and the defeated side usually disappeared in its entirety, except for the women. In the eyes of the shepherd, a woman belongs to the category of property, and the brother is the successor of the brother, and the father and the son, so there is no need to cut the grass and eradicate the roots.

"Kill!" The brethren of the Flying Tigers responded with a cry, there was no need to mobilize, they knew what to do themselves. Four months ago, the tribal warriors set an example for them with their actions, and today it is nothing more than a "good deed" in return. They beat their horses and ran over the low huts and threw torches on the roofs. Then aim the lance at the windows and doors, and stab the people who crawl out one by one.

Someone brandished an axe and a round shield to try to resist, but the axe was too short and the round shield was too thin. The cavalry were equipped with long lances with blades up to four feet long, which could easily pierce leather shields and pick up hatches. In addition to the lance, the Flying Tigers were armed with swords and bows and arrows, and were far more efficient at killing people than rudimentary axes. Under the command of Samurai Tong and Liu Hongji, the brothers coordinated their weapons and quickly advanced the battle from the entrance of the village to the center of the village.

In the center of the village is an old house of a large family, with a wall more than four feet high and green tiles on the top of the wall. After killing the original owner of the house, one of Hosana's young Burkes made it his official residence, but he didn't like the gate of the courtyard to always hinder his mount's quick access, so he ordered the door panels and thresholds to be removed.

After hearing the sound of horses' hooves and shouts of killing coming from the entrance of the village, Lord Little Burke began to regret it. He hurriedly summoned his subordinates and arranged them all at the unobstructed gate, "Block the gate and blow the horn for help!" Standing behind the human wall, Little Burke brandished his scimitar and shouted hoarsely. Block, block, the Khan will hear the horn, the Khan will come to our rescue! ”

Suddenly, he felt a chill in his heart, as if he was being stared at by a lone wolf. The instinct he had cultivated since he was a child on the grassland made him lie down quickly and roll in the mud. The mink robe, which was worth more than 100 cents, was immediately pasted into sow skin by the muddy water on the ground, and it was dirty and smelly, but Little Burke thought it was worth it. Because the moment he rolled away, he saw a long lance flying in the air and slammed into the position where he was standing.

"Protect Lord Burke!" The samurai let out a cry of surprise and quickly formed a circle, protecting their master in the center. They did not bother to block the gate again, and according to the rules of the tribe, if the leader was killed in battle and the samurai around him fled, not only would the samurai himself be tied to the tail of a horse and dragged to pieces, but his wife and children would also be beaten into slavery.

Hou Junji waited for this opportunity, and after throwing out the long lance in his hand, he immediately pulled out the horizontal knife from his waist. Before the warrior closest to the door could react, the front hooves of the war horse under Hou Ju's crotch had already stepped on the door in front of him. With the momentum of the horse, Hou Junji leaned over, swung his knife like a whip, and pulled it past the other person's neck, whipping up a cloud of blood mist.

The brothers of the Flying Tiger Army swarmed up behind Hou Junji, and used horizontal knives and lances to peel off the guards around Little Burke layer by layer. Thanks to the Immortal Heaven, he let the marauders tear down the gates, so that the advantage of the war horse could be fully utilized. Thanks to the Immortal Heaven, the red-eyed, black-armored Flying Tiger Brother prayed loudly in his heart, no matter which tribe the Immortal Heaven believed in.

"You, you're not Turkic!" Seeing the guards around him being cut down one by one, Little Burke screamed in surprise. This is not the case with the Turks, who like to rush and fight and do not organize such skillful coordination. Before he could spread his discovery with the sound of a trumpet, a sharp arrow that suddenly flew shut his throat. Li Shimin found the core of this group of resisters thirty steps away, and as he had learned the technique from Li Xu back then, he looked at the direction and speed of the black smoke floating above his head, and released his fingers from the bowstring.

After losing their leader, the clan warriors panicked, abandoned their opponents, and ran out of the compound in a swarm. They tried to avenge Little Burke, or rather, they were looking for death. Li Shimin collected his bow, lifted his lance, and rode his horse to meet him. Before Hou Junji rushed over to the rescue, he blocked the first axe with the lance in his hand. Then he lowered his elbow, raised his wrist, and sent the axe and its owner into the sky red by the morning glow.

This was the first time in his life to participate in actual combat, but Li Shimin did not feel nervous at all, on the contrary, a long-suppressed pleasure surged in his heart. Fights like this have been practiced many times in his sleep, and every time he wakes up, he is full of blood. "If Zhong Jian can do it, so can I!" He flicked his lance and threw the corpses of his enemies flying. Then turn sideways, sweep, sweep away a leather shield with a lance, and by the way, use the war horse to crush the body of the owner of the leather shield.

By the time he found his third target, the battle was nearing its end. Hou Junji chased after him with people and cut down all the warriors who dared to threaten the safety of the main general of the Flying Tiger Army. Some herdsmen saw that the situation was not good, left behind their wives, children, and looted houses and furniture, and fled away from the village on horseback. As soon as they rushed out of the entrance of the village on the east side, they were shot into hedgehogs by a burst of feathered arrows. The eldest grandson Wuji had already led people to block the road out of the village, and his skills were not enough to lead the army to rush and kill, but he was enough to take on the important task of intercepting the rout and guarding the perimeter.

Desperate shepherds lay down their weapons and knelt in the mud begging for their lives. Others took refuge in the looted houses and held the doors and windows with sticks and water tanks. Hou Junji led people to search from house to house, set fire to the roofs, kicked the wooden doors, and pulled all the men out to kill them under the terrified gaze of the women and children. A soldier lost his mind by the smell of blood, holding the deceased's wife and rolling to the mud, before he could take off his pants, Liu Hongji took the veteran of the Li Mansion to whip away his desires.

"Brother, we're not Turkic!" Looking at a pair of bewildered eyes, Liu Hongji shouted angrily.

"But they also used to ......," the soldiers muttered in protest, but lowered their heads in Liu Hongji's knife-like gaze. Brother, we are not Turkic!" Liu Hongji changed his slightly mild tone and said. Then he ordered the women and children in the house to be taken away and gathered in the courtyard of the village.

The women of the tribe were born stout and liked to carry axes and bows and arrows in battle like men, so many women were killed by the Flying Tiger Army as men in battle. There are also many tribal warriors who killed their wives and children with their own hands in desperate moments. Therefore, Wu Shi Tong and Liu Hongji did not find many prisoners, and they searched all the houses that were not on fire with their two regimental brothers, and only found more than 70 prisoners.

The pale captives shivered in the cold wind, and they did not dare to cry or resist. This is the rule given by the Immortal Heaven to the tribes, the strong take all, and the weak lose everything. The only thing they can do now is accept their fate. According to the victor's preference, they may be used as slaves to do a lifetime of hard work for the black-clad Turkic bandits in front of them. Or they could be sold to caravans, sold across the desert to the far east or west, and died of exhaustion in a manor that they had never heard of in their lives. There is also the possibility of being killed on the spot, sacrificing to the Immortal Heaven, thanking him for blessing the Black Wolf Rider with another brilliant victory. It's all thanks to the mood of the leader of the men in black today. The grassland seems to be very large, but in fact it is very small, and the weak will never have a foothold.

The black-clad men around them spit on them, threw stones, and their eyes were full of resentment. But no captives were crushed on the spot, and the order of the black-clothed men who suddenly rushed out of the ground was terrifying, not at all like the Turkic wolf riders that the captives had heard from their clansmen. Probably because there were too few prisoners to be distributed, several of them, Burke and Merne, were arguing loudly. A sound thundered into the ears of the captives.

Suddenly, one of the men in black, a burly 'Burke', shouted a few words in a fit of rage. A slightly shorter, but very athletic 'Tutun' was clearly helping him. Lord Merus, who was standing across from them, gave in and took a few steps back. Then, the group's 'secret service' smiled and made a final decision.

The captives craned their necks nervously, waiting for the final verdict. To their astonishment, all the men in black got on their horses and quickly left the village. No one came in to pull the woman, and no one came in to snatch the child. They were gone, disappearing like smoke into the distant glacier.

Years later, among the survivors, a young man named Silt established his own clan. He was fluent in the Central Plains script and language, and often talked to his children and grandchildren about the pain of extermination. But in his recollection, what he hated most was not the Meru who led the army to kill his father that day, but Lord Burke, who spared his life.

"We're not Turkic!" At that time, the words shouted by the burly Lord Burke were finally understood by the Silt. That sentence was like a knife, and every time he mentioned it, he gritted his teeth with hatred, and the humiliation was inexplicable.

In the long years of warfare that followed, the army of Sith Khan maintained the most basic discipline and the most basic humanity. This behavior made many tribes around him laugh at him for forgetting his Turkic origins, but he didn't care about the ridicule of others in the slightest.

His son Xiao Site and grandson Xiao Xiao Site moved west with their tribes again and again, leaving the Central Plains far away. Eventually, his descendants took root in the far west and built an empire as large as the Central Plains Dynasty.

Westerners call it Turkey.

Note 1: Burke, Tutun, Meru, and Special Service are all Turkic titles for nobles. Mero, which means steward. Special service, leading general. Tutun, civil affairs officer. Burke, nobleman, general.

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