The maple leaves of Nishiyama have turned red.

The moonlight in the world is not over.

When a soldier's sword passed through a person's throat, the blood was redder than a maple leaf.

He can't kill the enemy with an expressionless face like Li Fengliang.

His hands were shaking when he killed.

He was physically strong.

He can eat three bowls of dry rice and half a chicken in one meal.

He has a five-year-old son and he has a loving wife.

He has a loving old mother, and he has a happy family.

If a person's life can really be like this, then he must be extremely happy.

But at this time he was not happy.

Because of this fucking damn war.

He didn't work for the emperor, nor did he work hard for Li Fengliang, let alone listen to Li Fengliang's talk.

He just knew that the wine was good tonight.

If you drink alcohol, you will kill someone.

The knife in his hand was already curled.

His arms were shivering with exhaustion, and his knees were bent and could no longer straighten up.

But he knew that every time he killed an enemy, his happy home had a better chance of surviving.

So even though he was so tired that he almost vomited blood, he was still wielding his knife.

Finally, he couldn't kill anymore.

He was hit by an arrow in the knee.

Hit in the shoulder.

He knelt down, his face twisted in pain.

He didn't slash again, for his sword was already rolled up and could no longer cut through any of the barbarians' armor.

He just used that knife as a mirror.

In the moonlight, he looked at his face, which was full of blood, full of wounds, and extremely embarrassed.

He suddenly stretched out his left hand, which landed on his face, and began to clean the blood scab from his face.

No one knows why he did it.

In fact, he just wanted to die a decent death.

Then he looked at the bodies and realized that his family might not find his body.

He thought of this, and the story began to get angry.

He raised his sword to cut the brute, but it didn't cut through the armor.

He was stabbed in the back.

Then he was exhausted and fell to the ground.

His eyes were in a trance, and his spirit was slowly passing.

It turns out that this is what death feels like.

......

......

A soldier's hands trembled, for he had come to join the army for some silver to support his family.

He is no more than sixteen years old this year.

Not as big as Lorning.

But he had already killed four people.

He remembered that when Li Fengliang finally went to ask him to ask for peace tonight, he went to see his old mother.

My mother wasn't too old, but she was already tired and bent over.

He had no father, because his own father died in battle when he was very young.

On this land, my mother is the last person who can make me nostalgic.

He began to reminisce, the taste of the mooncakes his mother had wrapped for him.

The mooncake was rice from broken rice, but it was the most delicious mooncake he had ever eaten in his life.

If he was born in an emperor's family, he should be pampered in the palace at this age, eating unexpected mountain delicacies, and drinking elixir that he has never seen before.

If he was born in a large family, this age should be the most chic time for a son, flirting with girls on the street, and spending time drinking with his friends.

But he wasn't.

He was just a child of an ordinary family.

——

He looked up, his vision obscured by blood.

He put his hand into his arms, and there was a blood-stained mooncake with a bite.

He took out the mooncake and tried to put it in his mouth.

But as soon as his hand was raised, a cold arrow shot into his chest in the distance.

Blood flowed down.

Mooncakes fall to the ground.

But his body did not fall.

Because there are so many corpses around.

The moonlight in his eyes finally slowly dimmed, and then turned gray.

......

......

Another veteran.

The reason why he is called a veteran is because he is so old.

He was too old to hold a knife.

But he's still fighting.

When Li Fengliang asked the soldiers to ask for peace, he didn't move.

Because he no longer has a family, he lives in this city like this, seemingly without desire, and seems to have nothing to be nostalgic for.

But he still had to fight.

Is it for the wine that will make him happy, or for the military rations that will feed him?

He didn't know.

An enemy attacked, and then he raised the knife in his hand.

He did not intercept the opponent's weapon, and the knife in his hand fell to the ground.

But the moment the knife landed, he rushed forward like madness, biting the enemy's throat with his mouth.

The young and strong enemy was struck down by him.

The entrance to the blood, which is the taste of meat.

He began to miss the pheasants and hares he had eaten in his youth.

He's a bit hungry, but it's not that kind of meat.

But he hadn't eaten real meat in a long time, so this kind of work would work.

He felt the temperature of the blood cut through his teeth, and felt that the enemy he had bitten was finally lifeless.

Then he suddenly started vomiting.

The brutes around him had surrounded him, but they were stunned.

They were fierce enough, but they had never seen such a fierce veteran.

People stared at him, looked at him, and then suddenly noticed that the old soldier reached out and took off the flask in his hand.

He unscrewed the lid and threw it on the ground, then looked up to the sky and drank wildly.

The drink ran down his cheeks and neck and stayed on his body.

And then these brutes understood that this veteran was just a madman.

They rushed up, swords and guns at the same time.

Blood flies by.

Then the corpse of the veteran was planted in the ground, submerged by the other corpses, and was never seen again.

No one knows if he drank the last sip of wine, and no one knows if he was a madman.

But they could see that his flask was gripping tightly.

It was as if that was his life, a life more important than a knife.

......

......

On this battlefield, there are many such people.

All kinds of people, all kinds of deaths.

They came for different purposes, and they died for different reasons.

But their beliefs are the same.

They just want to hold this fortress, not for the damn high emperor.

It's for the moon in the sky.

Today's Mid-Autumn Festival, but the family has not been reunited.

There is no one who does not want to be reunited.

......

......

Blood stained Zhou Tu's sword red.

His body trembled, for he had never seen such a terrible battle.

This was the last charge of the barbarians, and it was also an inevitable charge.

Zhou Tu raised his head.

He watched his comrades die one by his side.

These people may have been his people.

He looked at the unwillingness of these people before they died.

Looking at the mooncakes stained red with blood, looking at the wine jug mixed with blood.

He suddenly felt like a jerk.

......