Now, in the unyielding eyes of the soldiers, he gradually understands that it is easy to die, but living for a belief is the responsibility of every Xianbei people. Emperor Yan is still there, and the iron-clad Xianbei man is still there, so their Yan Kingdom is still there!

He squeezed her shoulders and carefully took out a piece of her broken jade from his arms, "This is the jade you once broke to save me, I found someone to re-mount it, and it returned to its original appearance." ”

"Can you believe it? We, Dayan, one day, will be able to restore the prosperity of the past, just like this piece of jade. ”

He looked at her with a determined look in his eyes.

Song Ling held his father's jade and cried out.

King Zhongshan, did I give up in advance?

Murong Chong unloaded a piece of purple jade from his waist, and his name was engraved on the jade pendant that shimmered with purple light.

The light is not extinguished, and the heart is not extinguished.

"This piece is the purple jade that my father gave me, and I will give it to you."

"Your jade, leave it to me, one person and one jade, which means our rebirth."

"One person, one jade, reborn." She muttered silently and handed the warm jade into Murong Chong's hands.

"We all have to live well, Dayan's hope is immortal because of the life of all people!"

He Murong Chong will not give up easily, tens of thousands of soldiers of Dayan will not give up, the people of Xianbei will not give up, and he hopes that Song Ling will not give up either.

Death is easy, tenacious to live, very difficult and difficult, just like the flowers that bloom in the desert, it is because they bloom in despair that they can amaze the world.

And he firmly believes that they will always have something to amaze the world again, that day!

****

Jiayin, Chang'an, Qin State.

The carriage slowly drove into Chang'an City, and Song Ling opened a gap in the curtain in the swaying and turbulent, and she examined this city that was extremely unfamiliar to her.

The city gate of Chang'an is very high, very majestic, very similar to Yecheng, if you must divide it into high and low, then the moat outside Yecheng is not in Chang'an. The snow in the city has not yet melted, but it has been swept to the side of the road by the enthusiastic people of Qin, just to welcome the triumphant return of the Qin ** team, as well as the King of Qin, whom they support incomparably.

Is this Chang'an?

The people of Qin who greeted her in the middle of the road, and the bursts of cheers made her suddenly feel in an instant that the strength of this country and the cohesion of this Qin king Fu Jian.

She quickly lowered the curtain, because all the prosperity in front of her reminded her of Yecheng, the former capital of Dayan. The ten thousand golden rays of light above her head refracted in the snowdrifts on the side of the road, piercing her eyes with pain, and she was already crying.

This year's snow is destined to cover the land of Qin Yan with a stubborn attitude.

They entered through the Chang'an City Gate, entered the Imperial Palace of the Qin State, and waited in front of the Weiyang Palace, waiting for the judgment of their fate.

They don't know what will happen in the future, they don't know where their home is in this strange land, and they don't know how to endure humiliation and burden in order to get closer to their faith.

The majestic call sounded, and she couldn't help but panic, and looked up at the low sky, the sky was so far away from them, and the endless fear was so much, so much. Yes, she Song Ling will be afraid, because from now on, every step she takes, every day she wants to live, is humbly looking up to others, and this process is long and torturous.

"Your Majesty summoned Murong, but the Zuhun clan, Murong Chong, Murong Qinghe."

The honorific title of Emperor Yan is not there, the eminence of the Queen Mother is not there, they are in the Qin State, but they are just ordinary people who decide their fate because of King Qin's words.

For them, who are nobles of Dayan Tianhuang, this kind of gap is a fatal self-esteem crushing.

Song Ling saw the pain in his eyes, and chased after him, holding on to the corners of his torn clothes.

His hands were cold, hateful, and heavy.

"Be careful." She looked at him, her eyes full of sorrow, and she couldn't stop worrying, where was the way back.

She didn't know how Fu Jian, the king of Qin, would settle them, especially as the most noble royal family in the Yan Kingdom. In the eyes of the people of the Qin State, their dignity in the Yan Kingdom is the biggest hidden danger, because whether it is Murong or Murong Chong, they are all cohesive figures who can raise their arms and shout enough to vote for the children of Xianbei from all directions.

The man's eyes were staring, at the center of his eyebrows, a little sorrow and hatred, he held his palm, and when he looked at each other again, his eyes were resolute and resolute, and the unyielding heart was flickering.

"Don't worry."

He held her hand for a short moment, but in this bone-chilling winter, he gave each other the strength to support each other.

She watched him step by step on the high stone steps, throwing away the identity of the king step by step, and bowing to Qin.

Her tears slowly fell, dripping on the cold ground of Qin Kingdom, it was frost condensed by blood and tears, and it became a wall against the wind in this land, she shouted strong in her heart, but the bleeding at the corner of her mouth became a wound.

King Zhongshan, it's really too difficult to live!

The cold wind blew her hair, she looked up, the sky was vast, Xianbei dared to ask, where is her home and country!

Weiyang Palace

King Fu Jian of Qin is high on the dragon chair, majestic and majestic, and two women sit on both sides of him, one is graceful and luxurious, is Mrs. Zhang, the favorite concubine of King Qin, and the other is bright and moving, and is the princess of Qin Baojin.

More than 100 Qin officials lined up on both sides, and their arrogant and contemptuous gazes swept coldly towards the four people who slowly walked into the main hall, and it was the posture of a victor looking down on the captives.

I only heard the prime minister Wang Meng shouted loudly, "Murong, when you see my Majesty Great Qin, you still don't kneel down and salute!" ”

But Zuhun was taken aback, and hurriedly pulled Princess Qinghe to kneel down, and her noble knees slowly bent down, and her movements were slightly stiff. Because for the Kezuhun clan, there has been no one who can make her kneel for more than ten years.

Murong looked at the high King of Qin, once, the high position that was worshiped by hundreds of officials belonged to him! Today's persecution really chills him.

Becoming a king or defeating a king, the self-esteem of an emperor is consumed in the river of blood in the war, like mussel meat grinding beads, no one knows whether they can wait for their humiliation in all kinds of grief and anger.

"Murong! Don't kneel yet! Is Yan Xin not dead, can't he rebel! Wang Meng's eyes were fierce, and he deliberately instigated.

But Zuhun hurriedly pulled Murong's sleeve, and whispered and hurriedly persuaded, "Son, kneel down quickly, people have to bow their heads under the eaves!" ”

Murong shook off his mother's hand and closed his eyes heavily, and the gasping breath seemed to spit out all of Dayan's dragon veins.

He slowly lifted his robe, his cold hands together, every movement, trembling, so rusty, so helpless, he slowly, slowly, bent down the incomparably noble knees.

"Meet Your Majesty."

He lowered his head deeply, not daring to look around, he could basically imagine the mocking faces of those Qin State officials, but the back-shaped floor tiles on the floor of the main hall still illuminated his embarrassed appearance at this time.