The iron-gray sky was pressing heavily on people's heads, and when riding on horses, it seemed that the sky was closer to Qirong. The rain of arrows dragging the fire snake poured into the sky, and it fell in millions of chaotic arcs, submerging the walls of Qiuye City in the sea of ​​fire. The north wind in the morning brought the choking smoke from afar, mixed with the burning smell of the limbs.

Behind the archer Yanyi Formation, a warrior called the king was covered in heavy armor of fire and copper, with cold and hard eyes in his brown eyes. He shouted, howled, the sound of weapons chopping, and the sound of feather arrows breaking through the wind, everything formed a magnificent background of the flesh-and-blooded battlefield. One of the two sides of the battle was at the end of their strength, and the sound of the battlefield was low, leaving a blank space in the noise in his ears, just like the wilderness of winter, deserted and distant.

Junhou silently raised his right hand. The soldiers carrying the red flag jumped onto the horse, ran to the sides along the geese wing formation, and blew the heavy rhinoceros horn on the horse's back. The sound of the trumpet was spread far away on the battlefield in the morning, stacking layers, as if echoing in a valley.

The soldiers guarding the city carefully poked their heads from behind the burning wooden fence and exchanged glances with each other. The rockets of the Qirong army suddenly stopped, and the strange calm made people feel a little panic. The stone cannons of the Qirong army had broken all the towers on the city, and there was no intact brick found on the walls of four horses in parallel. They were not so much guarding the city as they were hiding in the ruins of gravel bricks. The soldiers who had guarded the city side by side with them crawled on the balustrades and wooden fences on the top of the city in various postures. The flames on their bodies had not yet been extinguished, and the burnt smell of the corpse was particularly clear at the end of their noses, which made people want to vomit, although they had no time to eat for a whole day and a night.

"The archer stopped." Someone whispered.

"Is it because the Qirong people used up their arrows?" There was a hint of luck in this voice.

"Everyone is lying down!" shouted the commander of the city guarding the city, "Be careful of the tricks of the Qirong people!"

"I...I saw the Qirong army retreating," a young city guard soldier suddenly stood up and pointed at the archers lined up in the distance, "The Qirong army retreated! The Qirong army retreated!"

"The Qirong people retreated?"

"The Qirong people really retreated?"

"Can it be that reinforcements from Beishan Camp have arrived?"

"The Qirong people retreated!"

More and more soldiers, regardless of the law, stood up from behind the wooden fence that was avoiding arrows, stared at the enemy's camp with wide eyes. The thick smoke that went with the north wind covered the geese-wing formation of the Qirong Army, but the soldiers with good eyes still saw the black-clothed Qirong Army shooters pull up the arrows that had been inserted into the soil, put out the fire-driven fire piles, and retreated neatly in an orderly manner. The geese-wing formation gradually converged into a defensive fish-scale formation. The three thousand powerful crossbows of the Qirong Army shooter camp gradually disappeared in the black smoke that had not yet been dissipated, and only three cavalry stayed in the place where they had just arranged the array.

"The Qirong people... have they really retreated?" In the end, the commander Lian Qianfu stood up. He stared blankly at the north wind blew away the black smoke, gradually revealing the deserted fields in early winter. Everything in front of him made him unable to believe his eyes. He was only one step away from turning the north gate of Qiuye City into ashes, and the Qirong army retreated quietly.

Apart from miracles, there is nothing else to explain the scene in front of you.

"The god of heaven bless me Xiliang," the chief of thousands of men trembled and drew his sword to the sky, "The god of snow, the god of snow!"

The surviving soldiers were cheering and a burly centurion shouted and rushed towards the side of the balustrade, waving the plain white Xiliang banner into the sky. Surrounded by blood and smoke, the light blue snow chrysanthemums symbolizing Xiliang once again bloomed above Qiuye City.

A flag as dark as night was raised almost at the same time, on the position that the Qirong Army archers had just withdrawn. When the wind on the battlefield pulled the black flag away, a deficit that was poured into blood seemed to jump out of the black flag and turned into a crazy dragon that could not be bound by the heaven and earth - "Ying"!

"Ying..." The commander of thousands of men couldn't help but pronounce this word.

Among the only three cavalry left on the battlefield, the warrior with black armor and black cloaks raised the big banner. The warrior with red flags on his side pulled out a slender sabre from his waist, and the Junhou wrapped in the fire copper armor raised his weapon from the saddle, which was a six-foot-long sabre. The only three warriors left in the Qirong army raised their eyes together and looked at the city of Xiliang.

The wind suddenly became tight, and the cold north wind suddenly became biting and rubbed across the city with a roar. The stronger wind rolled the black smoke on the battlefield and the smoke dissipated, on the gray field there was a piece of ochre red, a piece of undulating ochre red, like waves.

"Kill!" Junhou pulled the armor below and suddenly raised his sabre.

"Kill!" The whole wilderness was responding to the orders of the King of Qirong Kingdom. As if the gate had been opened, the long-established ochre-red flowing water circled and poured on the battlefield, spreading across every corner of the earth, and heading towards the city gate of Xiliang. In this charge that reversed the north wind, all the voices of people were swallowed, leaving only the commander of a thousand men like moaning...

"Red...tide!"

The noise in the distance was closer, and thousands of shouts gathered together, which sounded like the wind in the mountains from afar, making people mistakenly think it was autumn. A crystal clear hand inserted the obliquely cut white plum into a plain porcelain bottle, and its thin and black straight hair hung on the edge of the plum blossoms, which became more and more white and thrilling.

"Listen to the sound, it seems that the Qirong army at the South Gate broke the city first. The Red Tide of the Qirong Kingdom is one of the best soldiers in the world."

"maple……"

"Although I have long been fighting for Xiliang and have no regrets until death, I can't help but tremble when I hear such hell-like shouts of killing."

"maple……"

"Your Highness, it's time for me to go to the battlefield too," the warrior in blue dress and sword suddenly knelt up from the seat, "Then let's say goodbye."

The woman opposite lowered her head, her lips twitched, but she didn't say anything.

The young warrior pressed his right knee with his hands and saluted: "The chaos of the country is the time for the warriors to fulfill their loyalty and responsibilities. It is a blessing for Xiyue Feng to have the opportunity to be loyal to the country. Unfortunately, there is no time to repay the princess' kindness and appreciation, which is a lifelong regret. If I really have a next life, I hope there is still a chance to go to Qingye Lake and listen to the princess's flute sound."

"I am also ready to say goodbye to Qiuye Mountain. In my next life, I will go to Qingye Lake to play the flute."

"So..." Xiyue Feng's steps slowed down at the door, "So, goodbye."

He turned around and pulled up the door, walked with his knife, and his calm footsteps sounded in the corridor.

There was only a woman who arranged flowers in the room. She looked down at the spotless person in the reflection of the basin. The too fair skin was like a piece of fine cotton paper, with two green eyebrows freely sweeping. Slowly, tears passed through the nearly transparent skin and fell into the basin, and the reflection shattered.

The footsteps gradually faded away. Even though it was absent, the steps of Xiyue Feng were still graceful and quiet, just like when he met his father. She first fell in love with this warrior wearing blue swords, not because of his famous beauty and poetry, but because of his pace. Such slight and clear-cut steps make people feel that everything is in his control. Even if the mountain collapses on one side, he will hold it up for you.

"Xiyue is a reliable man, so let's marry Xiyue!" That night, the father of the father drank the wine in the bowl and said carelessly.

She did not speak, covered her face with a folding fan, and put down the bamboo curtain beside her. The maple in the West Yue Dynasty sat upright like a mountain, pressing the long knife at her waist motionlessly, and looking straight at the candle. The father laughed silently.

"What kind of husband will my daughter like?" Jinhou once asked her tentatively.

She held a tube of long-edged rabbit hair, lit ink, and copied Luo Huiyang's "Deep Valley Copy" on paper without answering. The small calligraphy with her fingertips was beautiful and distant, just like a group of geese in the sky. The Marquis of Jin watched his daughter's pen stagnation, and then her cheeks were red.

"Qingshuijingshan, flowing clouds and white cranes?" The Marquis of Jin picked up the simple paper and flicked it, smiled bitterly and put it into his sleeves, "Even if you walk all over the East Land, how many young people are there with clear water and quiet mountains and flowing clouds and white cranes? It is hard to find him as if you are as tall as heaven."

"But only such a person is worthy of my daughter," said the Marquis of Jin and went to Qirong.

The princess of the Qiuluo of Xiliang Kingdom was 17 years old and was famous among the Donglu Gongqing. She was beautiful and had a picture-like eyebrows. She had a stroke of Zhaoyang in Luohuiyang and a nine-section flute that blows through the cold autumn. She was so good at chanting. The name of the Bingji of the Snow Kingdom kept shocking the emperor of Tianqi City. It is said that the emperor held the princess' calligraphy in his hand and read it at night with a light. She sighed that the fragrance of plum blossoms came secretly.

Since then, the young nobles who met the Jin Hou at Tianming Pavilion were always looked at by the Jin Hou with a strange look, and lucky people were given a banquet. It is said that there was always a bamboo curtain hanging on the side of the banquet, and the shadows behind them were faintly fragrant, which made people imagine.

At the age of eighteen, the seventh noble warrior met with the Marquis of Jin and was summoned to the Zhuli Pavilion to enjoy the snow. He was even given a family dinner and a night drink from the Marquis of Jin. She looked at the warrior under the lamp for a long time, but did not say no. The young warrior's name was Xiyue Feng.

"It's snowing..." Xiyue Feng stepped out of the monastery of Zhuli Pavilion and looked up at the sky.

The first snow of this winter actually fell in the morning when Qiuye City was destroyed. The sky was white, and at the end of the path in the garden, a white plum tree was slanted with twisted branches, as if there were a few rough ink marks on the drawing paper. The maple of Xiyue looked at the plum tree, and the sound of shouting and killing in the distance gradually disappeared, and the surroundings were quiet and cold.

"I have been born in the cycle of reincarnation for a hundred years, and the crane feathers float on the frost for sixty years."

At this moment, what he remembered was this little poem. Sixty years ago, a famous general and literary craftsman of Xiliang, Sima Qiuhuan, looked at the snow outside the window and wrote this poem of death. Two years ago, the Marquis of Jin was having a banquet in the small garden of Songtao Pavilion. He immediately sang this elegy with folding fans and sang the elegy. After a long sigh, the bamboo curtain behind the Marquis of Jin raised a thread, and a glance of soft spring water fell on him.

The sixty years of life are just sixty degrees of snow. The rush of life and death and the loneliness of rebellion were the sighs of Xiyue Feng since childhood. Until the princess under the lamp gently put her hand on the back of his hand and said, "I have been in a hurry for sixty years, I wish I could be dependent on each other." A trace of warmth that has not faded for a long time hugged Xiyue Feng's heart. The two sat opposite each other in the first snow of that winter, looking at the plum trees with snow hanging outside the window together.

As he flew past like lightning, he suddenly turned his head, and the red war horse was still at the entrance of the garden. The warrior on the horse carried two swords, and the redness on the tip of the knife fell on the snow. Both sides of the enemy had never expected this encounter. Through the vast snow curtain, the two actually exchanged eyes calmly.

The calm was broken in an instant! Xiyue Feng suddenly lowered his body, and his eyes could no longer capture the speed of his drawing of his sword. The figure in the blue clothes rushed out with a sharp sword light. The red war horse was rushing to the ground at the same time, and the warriors roared like thunder, and the wind brought by one person and one riding tore through the snow curtain.

A few pieces of snow fell on the tops of the white plum tree, and a few warm red splashed on the snow and slowly spread out.

"Maple, are the plum blossoms in the garden blooming?"

"It will be very fragrant after picking plum blossoms and drying them with snow water and new tea?"

“There is a hint of sweetness in the tea.”

"very nice……"

Those gentle voices came from every corner from all directions, as if many people were talking at the same time, but the voice of one person. Many voices were stacked together, and gradually Qirong opened his ears, making people not know where the person talking was, and only know that she was getting farther and farther away.

Xiyue Feng turned his head hard to see the white plum blossoms, and saw that it was actually blooming with dazzling red flowers. There was no pain, only the coolness from his heart slowly swallowed him.

"Death does not hurt at all, it's just lonely. Living in the world is already lonely...so, don't be afraid," said his swordsman.

Only then did he truly realize this loneliness, with fear. The noble warrior's graceful and sharp sword technique was vulnerable under the enemy's blood-stained sabre. The sabre was slashed with a strong smell of blood, and it cracked the enemy's muscle bones like chopping a piece of pig iron.

Is the real killing technique so? Is the dying loneliness so? A huge tremor seemed to have completely tear open his body. Xiyue Feng turned around suddenly and shouted at the temple on the other side of the small garden: "Qiuluo, escape quickly!"

Zhang Bo, the commander of the Qiang Rong Kingdom, stopped the war horse, turned around in surprise, and looked at his opponent. He stood quietly in the middle of the courtyard, turned his head to stare at the plum tree, as if he had lost his soul. Then he suddenly turned around, reached his hand to the side of the garden, opened his mouth wide and wanted to shout something, and blood choked out of his mouth.

Zhang Bo heard nothing. His knife had already cut open the enemy's throat cleanly.

The enemy fell into the snow.

The woman's heart trembled suddenly, and the white plums in the porcelain vase fell on her hand that was the same color as the plum blossoms. She held the vermilion knife on the small table and turned her head to look at her maid. The young girl leaned on the window with one hand as if she was asleep, and held a small porcelain vase with the other hand. A trace of earthworm-like blood marks meandered through the corner of her mouth and dripped on the plain seat. From the open window, she could see countless rockets pounced on the magnificent Tianming Pavilion like fire locusts.

The palace of Qiuye City, the capital of Xiliang Kingdom, and the proud Tianming Pavilion of Xueguo will also fall in the rain of arrows like the locusts of the Qirong arms.

"This heart is supported by the river, but I miss you never stop; this heart is placed on the mountain, but I miss you never change," the woman pointed the blade of the short knife towards her throat.

"It's over, it's over!"

Amidst the tide-like cheers, the burning main beam fell down on the highest level of Tianming Pavilion. This black nanmu, more than ten feet long and thick, was once the backbone of Tianming Pavilion, supporting this palace city that dominates the northern country. At this time, its huge weight destroyed and smashed the burning white wall to pieces. The essence and white stone pavilion were like a paper house, instantly turned into ruins. The smoke and dust stirred up by the beam soared into the sky, and the burning ash stretched out their wings like a huge firebird. They wanted to fly in the sky, but they still fell around them.

A rafter fell under Xiongjun's charcoal horse. The Marquis of Qirong stopped the war horse and glanced at the ruins coldly.

"Would you rather die than escape?" Qirong Hou nodded, "I am worthy of being the monarch of Xiliang."

"Mr. I'll see the corpse when I die. Otherwise, the imperial envoy from the imperial capital will be inconvenient to ask about it," said the black armored warrior who was accompanying him in a low voice.

"The dignity of the King of Jin, Qiuyin, would not leave the city and escape. It was his dignity. Let him die like a king, and let someone bury the ruins of Tianming Pavilion."

"yes!"

"I'm afraid I'm not careful when I'm doing this?" A sharp voice suddenly broke the silence. A bitter smile appeared on the face of the black-armored warrior and scholar. Qin Envoy, who was riding a white horse and covering his nose with his hands, had already appeared in the distance. The two warriors were wearing black and white armor and war horses, and were sandwiched between the two sides of the Qin Envoy and guarding each with their body.

"So what about Qin's intention?" Mr. Qirong suddenly turned his head, with a cold smile on his lips.

"If I don't raise my rebellious body and let my envoy bring back the Age of Heaven, how should I win the trust of the emperor and the princes of the Tianqi City? If I don't use Qiu Yi's head to spread the world, how can I subdue the rioters in all directions? Do the lord really think Qiu Yi will not make a fool?"

The Marquis of Qirong pointed to the whip: "Then it's the man over there, that's the body of the Marquis of Jin Qiuyi. The Qin envoy will take it back to Tianqi to report."

"How can Junhou be honest? How could he die at the gate of the palace be Qiu Feng's body?"

The corpse that the King of Qirong pointed to was burned black and difficult to tell by the fire. It was obvious that he just pointed it casually, and the Qin Dynasty was furious.

"Give Qin a shovel," said the Marquis of Qirong. "Since Qin does not believe what I said, then you might as well dig it yourself. However, even if I speak nonsense, I know that Qiu Yan's body will not be better identified than that one. The ones who are said to be the world are just dead heads, and those who are burned to death at the gate of the palace or at the top of the pavilion are no different in Ying Wuyi's opinion. There are many people here, so Qin will choose a good one."

"Junhou," a red war horse galloped like a whirlwind, and Zhang Bo approached Ying Wuyi's ear, "I caught a woman in the south of the city."

"woman?"

"From the clothes, I'm afraid it's Qiu Feng's daughter."

"Daughter? Interesting," said the Marquis of Qirong, who had long brown eyebrows, "Go and have a look!"

The charcoal fire horse neighed lowly, and the figure of the Marquis of Qirong, Ying Wuyi, was instantly a little far away from the snow. The thousands of soldiers besieged Tianming Pavilion in the Qirong Kingdom followed the monarch with a wave of his hand. The huge ruins of Tianming Pavilion suddenly became empty, leaving only a Qirong army holding a shovel and standing respectfully under the Qin envoy's horse.

"Ying... Ying Wuyi! He was so arrogant!" Qin Shiqiu's fat white face trembled continuously.

"This time, the enemy was defeated and the Qiuye City was captured within a month and a half. It was all about the thunder and cavalry of the Qirong Kingdom running like lightning. Now it was time to break the city and make great contributions to the royal family. It was the spring breeze that Qin Envoy would like to forgive me. As for the body of the Marquis of Jin, I will leave it to Bai Yi," Qin Envoy comforted the warrior in white armor beside Qin Envoy.

"Ying... Ying Wuyi! Humph!" Qin Qi's anger was not relieved, and he whipped his horse hard and took his escort Qi Rong with him.

The remaining young warriors in black and white armor stayed in front of the ruins and exchanged glances with each other.

"Qirong Marquis Ying Wuyi is just a seed of troubled times, right?" Bai Yi looked at the ruins silently.

"It's like you're an old guy, and Marquis of Qirong is a new boy," the black-armored warrior curled his lips, with an elusive cunning smile in his smile. "If possible, I would like him."

"Xi Yan, you are the seed of the troubled times." Bai Yi's eyes flashed and then he lowered his eyes.
Chapter completed!