Outside Lulongse in August, between the wilderness, there are bleak withered grasses.

The frost in the north is early, and it is already gray outside the gate.

In the whole single-toned wasteland, there is only a splash of fresh and bright color on the low-lying leaves of withered grass.

A young-faced Wuhuan man lay down in a nest of gray and yellow grass.

A large cut in his throat, blood gurgling and not yet dry, left him in a brief moment of calm before he died.

The hot air spurted out of the wound and the blood was drawn from the body.

The blood formed a small lake beneath him, wetting the fur he wore and the loose braids of his hair, and the shadows reflected the clouds in the sky.

He exhaled his last breath and looked at the little colored stone that was knotted in his braid, praying for peace, and his face fell heavily in blood.

In his last consciousness, he remembered his grandmother.

"Drink!"

The sound of horses' hooves suddenly approached, and the huge hooves of the bowl stepped on the cheeks of the dead young man, kicking his features into a mess of mud.

The earless man named Lao Lei collided with a rough scimitar with a knife in his hand, rubbing it into a creaky sound that tickled the roots of his teeth.

The Han army and the Hu people sentry cavalry, tacitly understanding on the wasteland, left and right sides of the confrontation.

Watch the fight in the middle of the meadow.

When the two sides meet, this is a romantic game that belongs exclusively to the most elite scouts in the army.

Lao Lei held the hilt of the knife with both hands and held the scimitar that was chopping.

The two of them were on a side-by-side, so close that they could almost smell each other's breath.

"You can't."

Lao Lei, who had already killed an opponent, looked at the opponent's bruised face, and still had the strength to mock.

The quality of supplies provided by the army was not in vain.

Every grain of rice and every piece of chicken is turned into a force to support the operation of the body in the daily rigors and hardships of training.

Solid muscles, bulging and rolling under the uniform, bring incomparably strong pressure to the enemy.

Swing the knife again and again, and collide vigorously.

A large amount of sweat poured from the hair of the enemy beard, and his hands began to tremble.

Lao Lei has been with Zhao Yun for some time.

According to Zhao Yun's ruthless temperament, the more senior the general, the more severe the training.

The enemy, a small tremble, did not escape Lao Lei's attention, and his eyes were full of fierceness.

The ring head knife is slightly withdrawn, seizing the gap.

The sharpened blade is only slightly dull when it cuts through the hard neck bone.

The sword flashed, the blood burst out, and a head flew high, and someone grabbed the braid in the air and lifted it high.

The headless corpse, splattered with blood, slowly slipped off the horse's back.

Under the head of despair frozen on his face, blood flowed from it.

The hanging blood vessels, especially twitching.

"Good!" The ranks of the Han army burst into applause.

The physical strength of the people in this world is beyond the scope of Gongsun Yan's cognition.

Under such conditions, the martial arts of individuals in this world have been magnified, and some of the brutal customs of the army that should have been withdrawn from the stage should have been retained.

But in the case of such a personal martial arts being magnified, a victory, a head, can bring unparalleled excitement.

The Han army rode more than a dozen horses, raised the weapons in their hands, knocked on the armor on their chests, shouted loudly, and showed off their own achievements.

A Han army rode forward, grabbed the halter of the war horse that had lost its owner and stood blankly, and pulled it back directly to his own team.

Lao Lei laughed loudly, showing off his head high, and let the dripping hot blood pour into his sleeves, dyeing half of his body blood-red.

He rode his horse through the middle of the pasture.

The Wuhuan people on the opposite side were dead silent.

Hu Qi, whose little boss had been killed, showed some timidity in the face of another invitation to fight.

That Han officer army is very strong.

Such a timid cognition spreads.

The horses under the crotch of the Wuhuan knight also seemed to sense something, and the horses' hooves moved restlessly, and there was some commotion

The north wind swept over the low-folded white grass, and the fishy smell condensed but did not disperse.

"If you don't dare to come, just get out!"

Old Lei's blood-stained long knife pointed straight at the opposing team.

"That's right! Go back. ”

Behind him, there were the knights of the Han army, including the old soldiers of the White Horse Yicong, and the recruits who were reorganized a few months ago.

Zhao Yun reorganized the White Horse and issued a new decree to rectify some bad habits.

However, the fierce style of the original army outside the Youbei Commando was deliberately retained.

The new recruits, led by veterans and officers and soldiers, wandered through the wasteland, and gradually grew up in more frequent and fierce frictions.

A long-faced Wuhuan rider was riding on a horse, and behind him was the Yin Yin gaze of his companion.

He clutched the reins, his hands on the scimitar at his waist, clenched and loosened.

He was just an ordinary scout, and now he had to take on the decision of the entire team because of the death of the leader and deputy leader of the team.

Ultimately.

He looked at the head that was held in his hand by Lao Lei, and exhaled a breath of white air.

Raising his hand, he slowly retreated with the team, leaving the Han army behind him with loud laughter and scolding.

The Han army did not pursue, and Lao Lei Zhuma looked at their distant backs.

restrained the arrogant and exaggerated smile on his face.

Disgusted, he threw the head in his hand into the distance, for fear that the lice in the braid would crawl over.

"Close!"

He shook off the blood stains from the knife, and there was a notch in the side of the knife.

I don't know if I was knocked by a scimitar or by a hard neck bone.

With knives and weapons like a warrior's bride, this gap made Lao Lei feel distressed.

As the sound of horses' hooves faded away, the blood-buzzing wasteland of a moment ago calmed down again.

There were only two corpses left, lying in the withered yellow barren grass, as gorgeous as beautiful flowers, dotted in a withered yellow patch.

In a few moments, there will be wandering meat scavengers, sniffing blood, and coming to enjoy their meal.

"Uncle Tian, Zixiu."

After the meeting, Gongsun Yan left two people.

She led the two of them to a corner of the conference room, where the curtain was obscured.

Pull back the curtain with your hand.

The things on display were exposed in front of the two of them.

In the conference room, the light was not very bright, but it was enough for Xia Houlan and Tian Kai to gasp, and they were dazzled by the flashing light.

The smell of knife oil filled her nose, and Xia Houlan swallowed her saliva fiercely.

"I want to change the uniforms of the officers and soldiers in the army, but I don't know which one to choose, so I ask the two of you to help you read one or two."

Gongsun Yan's words reached his ears, and Xia Houlan did not pay attention to the strong local tyrant atmosphere.

He was only intoxicated by the thought that he was going to marry his bride.