In the first class cabin of the Boeing 777, Xiong Wei nestled on a comfortable sofa and constantly adjusted his sitting position.

When flying from Huaxia Capital Airport to New York's Newark Airport, Xiong Wei flew in economy class, and he didn't have enough money to travel around the world when he had absconded abroad in the past — although United Airlines was far less luxurious than Emirates, but the ticket price was also tens of thousands of yuan — so this was the first time he had sat in first class on an international flight, and he couldn't help but feel novel.

After peeking at the beautiful and sweet flight attendant a few times, Xiong Wei turned his attention to Fang Ziyu and Jiang Lan who were sitting in front of him.

He could see that Fang Ziyu was not in high spirits, and he did not have the ease and joy that he should have when he returned. Although he was puzzled, he was not qualified to ask, so he could only wait for the qualified one to speak.

But Jiang Lan was very calm, and repeatedly played with the famous watch that he had just acquired, and did not say a word.

When the Boeing 777 climbed into the clouds and entered cruise mode, Jiang Lan finally turned his head sideways and asked, "Do you have something on your mind?" ”

"Hmm." Fang Ziyu got out of his contemplative state, looked around, and saw that the other first-class passengers had either put on headphones and blindfolds, or were focused on their own affairs, and then lowered his voice and said, "I originally planned to take a vacation when I went back, but now it seems that we may not be able to rest yet." ”

"Oh?" A slightly tired line appeared on Jiang Lan's eyebrows, and he put down the Vacheron Constantin he couldn't put it down, and listened carefully.

The unfamiliar faces nearby made Fang Ziyu a little worried, he thought for a while, and said: "After arriving in Beijing, first meet with Wen Yan Yang Dazhuang, oranges, Liuyun and drones are all going through their channels to return to China, first get them back from them, and then tell them what we know, by the way, these things you bought, let them find a way to send them back." ”

"What? We won't go back to Yinjiang? "Jiang Lan's sensitivity is as sharp as ever.

"Yes, we have to go to Shangnan first."

"Shang Nan?"

"There's something to do, big things." Fang Ziyu exhaled as if venting, stretched out his hand to his forehead and said dejectedly, "I'm tired, I want to rest, let's talk about it when I get off the plane." ”

Jiang Lan obediently closed his mouth, turned his head to look at the night sky outside the window, squinted his eyes, thoughtful.

………………

On the Taklamakan Desert, a lonely figure dotted the vast but monotonous yellow colors.

The terrible wind could blow up the endless stretch of sand dunes, but it could not shake the figure. Such a spectacle adds a bit of mystery to the already inaccessible no-man's land, but it is a pity that there are no travelers here at this time, and no one witnesses it.

The man without shoes walked slowly, his feet repeatedly sinking into the scorching sand, and when he lifted them, not a single grain of sand adhered to the soles of his feet.

After walking like this for twenty minutes, he seemed to be tired of the boring repetition and stopped.

Looking back at the trail of footprints behind him, he shook his head and waved his hand, and there was a sudden silence around him.

The howling of the wind is gone.

The footprints of different shades are gone.

Then, layer after layer of sand rose from the ground, swirling to form a seat, floating behind the man.

He sat down softly, made a strange gesture, and then a wall of sand rose to the ground, wrapped in a sand chair, and rushed straight into the sky.

Fourteen hours later, the antelopes, wild boars, lynxes, Tarim rabbits, sand pythons, and wild camels living on the edge of the desert were startled by a wall of sand and fled in all directions.

………………

Brudila is a small country located in the east-central part of the Aliga Plateau, with a land area of less than 30,000 square kilometers but more than 2,000 hills, hence the name of the country of a thousand hills.

This small agricultural and pastoral country, which has been rated by the United Nations as "one of the least developed countries in the world", is not known for its special landform or extreme backwardness, but because of a massacre that shocked the world.

Due to the danger of war and the lack of resources in Brudilla, and the perennial war of the people because of ethnic and religious differences, few major powers are willing to lend a helping hand to it, because it is a loss that anyone can easily foresee—the food given away for free will be divided up by the warlords, the technicians involved in the construction may be in danger at any time, and the fruits of hard work can be destroyed at any time by the bastards who are full of destruction and conquest.

Since losing the bid for the UN Human Rights Council, Brudilla has been in a desperate situation, with the warlords with poor weapons and equipment unable to invade their neighbors, who are not interested in the poor neighbor, and hunger forces those with weapons to turn their guns and blades at their fellow citizens.

In this corner where the light of civilization cannot reach, looting and slaughter are the norm, and the vulnerable without power and weapons are in danger, and perhaps tomorrow they will lose the fruits of their hard work, and the next second horror and misery will be riding into a dusty pickup truck with screeching music to break into their homes.

The people who survived are more like the walking dead with their instincts alive, because for those who can't afford to escape, watching themselves and their families be humiliated and then die at gunfire seems to be a predestined end.

Most of the low-income people living in the capital Angara have resigned themselves to their fate, but the establishment of the Confucius Academy has brought them hope.

A few months ago, a group of dark-haired, yellow-skinned people came to Angara and built a school that didn't charge any fees.

It's called Confucius Academy, but what the instructors teach is not Confucianism or Confucianism, but the martial arts of killing people!

In the past, in the face of bullying and persecution, the black lamb was slaughtered, and it was not that they did not have the courage to resist, but they did not know how to resist.

But this no longer existed, and the people gained the ability to resist in the Confucius Academy, and under the leadership of Mr. Kong, they quickly gathered a team that was not afraid of death, and equipped with all kinds of weapons provided by a group of white-skinned Westerners for free, the oppressed rebels overthrew the old Zhengfu entrenched in Angara, and severely attacked all the warlords who coveted and tempted.

In the final analysis, Brudilla's ruling party and warlords were not well-educated, far-sighted politicians or military strategists, they were just a rabble with guns in their hands, and with the help of Mr. Kong and his Western friends, the warlike rebels were easily victorious.

Today, the Confucius School has become the holy place of Angara, and the puppet Zhengfu has turned the tide under the control of the rebel leader and Mr. Kong, and has spread the gospel to every corner and every inch of Brudilla......

"Snap"

Kong Riyin pressed the remote control to turn off the TV, and asked with a satisfied smile: "Grandpa, how did you watch this documentary?" ”

The gray-haired old man's eyes closed slightly, and he did not respond.

"Grandpa?" Kong Riyin's voice was much quieter.

The absent-minded old man simply closed his eyes, shook his head and replied: "The last paragraph is too explicit, there must be no words like 'puppet Zhengfu', it must be changed to a new Zhengfu, and the rebels will be changed to 'a new party that arms itself with knowledge and mission'. Also, don't overemphasize the sense of participation of the Confucius Academy in the revolutionary process, our purpose is to spread the military, not to govern the country. ”

After speaking, the old man waved his hand excitedly: "You go." ”

Kong Riyin got up and bowed, and after hesitating for a moment, he asked in a lower volume, "Grandpa, are you in a bad mood?" ”

The old man groaned slightly, exhaled a breath of turbidity, and frowned, "It's nothing, it's just a bad premonition." ”