The world was rich and colorful.
In a vast place, time passed like a raging tide. Generations of people were born, grew up, and grew old. The forms of civilization were as vast as the sea. Dynasties swept by one after another. The rise and fall of a nation. The life and death of millions of people condensed into a sentence in the history books.
And in a small place, everyone's life was a vast epic. In every second of this world, thousands of people seemed to be living inconspicuously, but their thoughts and emotions were equally huge and real. Some people were laughing and happy, some people were crying and sorrowful, some people were hysterical and angry, and some people were silently sad … These emotions were like hurricanes and tsunamis, driving ordinary bodies forward in an ordinary way.
Every second of our world, if taken from a different perspective, would be a huge and real narrative poem. The fate of countless people extended, intertwined, collided and separated. A broken thread would often bring out a strange fruit in an unknown place. These intertwined lines were chaotic but uniform most of the time, but at certain times, we would see countless huge lines converging and colliding in a certain direction.
On the 23rd of the fourth month of the first year of Wu Zhenxing, the setting sun outside Hanzhong City seemed to be full of the smell of gunpowder, revealing a terrifying grayish-black color in the clouds. The sunset was not magnificent, it was just an ordinary face that had been repeated countless times in this world.
When the city under the setting sun entered the field of vision, the troops under his command were quickly gathering forward. Xi Yin rode on a warhorse, the sound of the wind blowing through the fluttering banners mixed with the voices of the people. The huge battlefield began to become orderly from chaos, and the air was filled with the smell of horse dung and vomit.
The atmosphere of the battlefield, as always, became familiar to him. Decades of expeditions, again and again on the battlefield, amidst the forest of swords and spears, the breath of the soldiers showed a murderous and tenacious aura. This was a battle formation that Wanyan Xi Yin felt familiar with, but at the same time began to feel strange.
The speed at which the soldiers gathered and the spirit emitted from the formation allowed Xi Yin to quickly understand the quality of the troops in front of him. The Jurchen troops under his command were mature and terrifying. For forty years, after this team cultivated such spirit, they had never encountered an opponent of the same level. But as the war went on, what he gradually realized was the mood of many years ago:
At that time, the Jurchen soldiers entered the battlefield with the mentality that there would be no tomorrow. They were fierce and fierce, but on the battlefield, they could not command the troops as well as they did today. Aguda, Zong Han, Lou Shi, Zong Wang, and the others were hysterical on the battlefield. They were staking everything they had. Every battle was a crucial battle. They knew that the fate of the Jurchen Nation lay in front of them. However, they weren't mature enough at that time. So, they couldn't clearly understand the direction of fate. They could only go all out and leave the rest to the supreme god.
They learned and gradually matured in battle, and they could see the direction of fate more clearly. In the later stages of the war to destroy Liao, they had become more and more proficient in the use of the army, and fate was in their hands — they had seen the whole picture of the world. Xi Yin and the others, who had once admired the Sinology of the South and respected the Wu dynasty, also gradually saw the pros and cons of the Confucian school. There was certainly something worthy of respect, but on the battlefield, the Wu dynasty was no longer able to resist the general trend of the world.
Today, the old people had been tempered and mature in the flames of war, and the army still maintained its sharp edge. But in the battles before him, Xi Yin seemed to see the traces of fate running away. He could certainly go all out, but the unknown lay in front of him. As for the outcome of this matter, he already had a faint premonition that he couldn't grasp it.
But one thing was certain: the battle before him would become the most crucial battle again, and the fate of the Jurchen people was in front of him!
"… The position of the Huaxia army is five miles ahead … near the Reed Gate … The Marshal's army is coming from the west, and now in the city …"
After disembarking from the ship, the army slowly advanced. The Jurchen general, Chala, who had been summoned from the city, followed beside Xi Yin and reported the situation of the battle in detail to him. Xi Yin's eyes were cold as he listened quietly.
Almost as soon as he learned that the battle to the west of Hanzhong had begun, Xi Yin decisively abandoned the encirclement and suppression of Qi Xinhan's three thousand men near Xicheng City, and quickly led more than ten thousand men on the ship to the west along the Han River. He understood in his heart that in the battle that would determine the future of the Jurchen people, the encirclement and suppression of a mere three thousand men was not a very important matter.
The moment he disembarked from the ship, he sent someone to summon the highest-ranking general in Hanzhong City to understand the development of the situation. But the whole situation had already exceeded his expectations. Zong Han had led ninety thousand men, but in the face of the charge of twenty thousand men, they were almost beaten into a pitiful army. Although at first glance Zong Han's tactics seemed mighty, Xi Yin understood that if he had the confidence to win on the battlefield, there would be no need for Zong Han to use such a time-consuming and energy-consuming tactic.
The two of them had fought hand in hand for almost a lifetime, and he could understand how heroic and wise Zong Han was. If there was a chance, he would not retreat. In other words, to be able to force Zong Han, who had been fighting on the battlefield for more than forty years, to this extent, the strength of the Huaxia army was evident.
They killed Pucha on the bank of the Jialing River, and in the chaos of the battle, killed almost all of his subordinates, such as Meng Anmouke, and other middle and lower level generals.
That night, with less than ten thousand men, they attacked Zong Han's camp, and even after falling into a trap, they managed to force their way out, and then killed their pursuers.
In four days, with almost less than twenty thousand men, they fought against Zong Han in a continuous battle, and in the end, it was Zong Han's team that showed signs of defeat. Some of the defeated soldiers gathered towards Hanzhong, but the other party was able to seize the south gate of Hanzhong with just a few hundred men. Such a desire to attack and decision-making ability in small-scale battles, how amazing was it?
"… How did they do it?"
Xi Yin finally spoke as the warhorse moved forward.
"… Ah?"
"You have come from the battlefield, and you should have some ideas about your enemies. How do you think … they did it?"
"… I, I do not know … the Huaxia army is valiant in battle, I heard that they … all retreated from the northwest, and have a deep hatred with us Jurchens. I think the demons in their hearts have bewitched them, making them fearless …"
"…" Xi Yin did not look at him, nor did she speak. After a while, she asked, "How many iron cannons and ammunition are left in the city?"
"I … can only make a rough estimate …"
"Wanyan Kuchi." Xi Yin did not wait for the report, and directly called out her disciple's name.
A middle-aged general in his early forties came over, "I'm here."
"I need you to do three things on my behalf."
"Yes."
"First, bring a thousand men into the city, and assist the soldiers in the city to strengthen the defense of Hanzhong. The Huaxia army is attacking from the Reed Gate to the north. Arrange for people to guard all the passages and walls. If the city changes hands again, you will be punished along with Chala."
"Yes."
"Second, make an inventory of all the cannons, ammunition, crossbows and warhorses in the city. Apart from the manpower necessary for the defense of Hanzhong, I want you to organize people to transport the supplies to the battlefield outside the city before sunrise tomorrow. If there is a shortage of manpower, you can come here to get more."
"Yes."
"Third …" Xi Yin paused on his warhorse, but then his eyes swept across the pale sky and land, and he said decisively, "Third, when there is enough manpower, gather the residents and commoners in Hanzhong, and drive them to the Huaxia army's position at the Reed Gate in the south. If there is resistance, you can kill them and burn their houses. Tomorrow morning, coordinate with the decisive battle outside the city, and attack the Huaxia army's position. You handle this matter well. "
On his warhorse, Wanyan Kuchi accepted the order, "Yes." His eyes were a little hesitant, but he immediately accepted the fact. After Marshal Zong Han had exhausted the Huaxia army with 90,000 troops for four days, Xi Yin made the decision to fight head-on. This decisive decision was probably in response to the news that the Huaxia army's leader, known as the inner demon, had fought his way out of the Sword Gate Pass.
— — If this dragged on for a few days, the inner demon would arrive, and things would become more lively and troublesome.
The two men accepted the order and left.
In front of them, the black flag of the Huaxia army came into view under the setting sun. The ground outside the city wall was stained with blood and corpses, indicating that a bloody battle had broken out here not long ago. At this moment, the Huaxia army's battle line was shrinking. At the far end of the city wall, there were Huaxia soldiers digging on the ground. Most of them were covered in blood from the battle, and some were wrapped in bandages.
Facing Wanyan Xiyin's flag, most of them glanced in this direction. Through binoculars, they could see that there was no fear in the posture of those figures, only calmness for battle.
In this world, there were more than ten million people who had a blood feud with the Zhenren. But there had never been a team that could face the Jin army in such a manner before.
They had already experienced four days of fighting, and had even torn the army led by Zong Han to pieces.
How did they do it?
Did they still have the strength to spare?
Xi Yin thought about all this in his mind.
Over the past few decades, they had walked through the battlefield, gaining experience and lessons. They had taken everything in this world into their eyes and hearts. Every battle and survival they had experienced made them stronger. At this moment, Xi Yin would recall the countless battles on the battlefield. Aguda had passed away, Wu Qimai was on his deathbed, Zong Wang, Lou Shi, Ci Buxie, Yin Shuke, Ba Lisu … one by one, the generals had passed away from their lives. But at this moment, Zong Han and Xi Yin were indeed in their strongest state on the battlefield.
Decades had passed, and at this moment, he could only do his best and leave the unknown fate to the supreme god.
*****
The city wall of Hanzhong was not magnificent or towering. It was an ordinary wall made of mud and stone. The fields outside the wall were green and yellow, and the soldiers were dressed mainly in the color of earth, with some green embellishments. The smell of blood was as unpleasant as ever.
Liu Muxia arrived outside Hanzhong in the evening. After arriving with the company, he was arranged to a position with the company members. Someone pointed to the east and told everyone, "Wanyan Xiyin is here. If there is a fight, you'd better dig a pit in front. "
"Is digging a pit enough?" The squad leader asked the company commander for instructions.
"You are responsible for digging the pit tonight. Save your strength and pay attention to rest. Whether you can sleep or not depends on the opposite side. "
Fatigue and pain were accumulating in his body, but it was within the limits of his endurance. When his comrades talked about the Fifth Army breaking through the Sword Gate, Liu Muxia looked up at the traces of the Jin soldiers in the east. Even though he was just an ordinary soldier in the Seventh Army of Huaxia, he knew that the decisive battle was coming.
So after dinner, he quietly began to dig the pit.
He was not afraid of Wanyan Zonghan or Wanyan Xiyin.
He was from the northwest, where the living environment was harsh. Because of this, he grew up in a world full of murderers, horse bandits, and swindlers.
His family passed away when he was young. He did not have much affection for his family, and similar situations were not rare in the northwest. After the Huaxia army came to the northwest and won the first battle against Xixia, he went to the Little Canghe and joined the Black Flag Army, which was considered by the outside world to "make a living."
The internal environment of the Huaxia army was completely different from what the outside world imagined. He did not know when he was assimilated. Perhaps it was the second day after he joined the Black Flag Army, when he collapsed in the fierce and excessive training, and the moment when the squad leader brought him a bowl of noodles late at night.
Or perhaps it was the moment when they cooperated with each other in the patrol and training.
Or perhaps it was the moment when he did not expect that Little Cang and his comrades, who had brought him noodles and supported him in the training during the three years of fighting, sacrificed their lives.
"… I was originally … from Bianliang. My home was in a village by the Yellow River. I had a wife, a daughter, and an elderly family … When the Female Zhenren came … everything was gone …"
Occasionally, he could think of the beautiful Central Plains that his comrades told him about.
In fact, he was not touched. For the first ten years of his life, he lived in the chaotic and precarious northwest frontier. His family died, and he did not know why he should cry. Was there really such a beautiful Central Plains in the world? He did not know.
He just liked the life in the Little Cang River. They fought side by side in the valley, fought off waves of evil enemies on the dam, cheered together, and lived a warm life. These people, who had lived different lives, became his comrades-in-arms, and became his family.
They were all dead.
He would think of the last three years of fighting in Little Cang River, and the words that Ning Yi often said to the people when he bid farewell to the dead.
"… In this world, there are millions of people, tens of millions of people who died. Before they died, they all had their own lives. What saddens me the most is … their lives will be forgotten just like this … The people here today, they resisted, they wanted to live like humans, but they died. Their resistance will be forgotten for the rest of their lives. What they did, what they remembered, will disappear from this world, as if … they had never existed … "
As if they had never existed …
Because of this, Liu Muxia often thought of the village by the Yellow River outside of Bianliang City. The old man in his comrade's house, his wife, his daughter, and his comrade were all dead. Those memories seemed to have never happened. Including the bowl of noodles the class leader brought him, as well as the time they fought side by side. These things, one day, would be like they had never happened …
There was pain and fatigue, but it did not matter, he could endure it. He silently dug the horse trap.
The sun gradually set. The sun set like this every day. On the second day he joined the Black Flag Army, he could not finish his training before the sun set. The class leader forced him to run in the dark. He told himself that he could not turn against her, he could wait until tomorrow to steal something … That night, he was hungry, and the class leader brought him a bowl of noodles. There was even a delicious egg in the noodles.
That was the Little Cang River from many years ago. The valley was not even completely built. Sometimes, they had to level the ground on the field, and the dam was completed step by step. And the Little Cang River today was a barren mountain. All traces of their existence had been erased.
The class leader swung the knife at the Female Enlightened Master.
And the Female Enlightened Master did not know about this.
…
This was not right.
*****
Night gradually fell. The stars were sparse, and the moon rose in the sky like a knife, splitting the sky by the Hanshui River.
On the plains west of Hanzhong, the sound of cannons suddenly rang out, and the soldiers fighting and charging were hidden in the light of the fire.
The Female Enlightened Master Army and the Huaxia Army that were rushing toward Hanzhong City were interweaving and killing each other in the dark.
A large number of Female Enlightened Master Army were scattered on the plains, and there were also Huaxia Army troops that were caught in a bitter battle in the dark.
Tens of thousands of people were fighting, tens of thousands of people with thousands of lives and stories.
On the 21st of April, Wanyan Saba led the cavalry to launch a fierce surprise attack on the Huaxia Army. He was lucky enough to escape after being injured, and at this moment, he was leading the army to Hanzhong. He was Wanyan Zonghan's nephew, and he had fought with Zonghan for as long as thirty years. Compared to Yin Shuke, Ba Lisu, and the others, he was a loyal executor of Zonghan's plans, even though he was not as talented.
The Female Enlightened Master had painstakingly fought her way out of that difficult living environment. He had followed the hero into battle, and at this moment, he was willing to die for the hero.
Zonghan had already met up with Gao Qingyi and the others, and was trying to mobilize a large army to assemble in Hanzhong. After fighting on the battlefield for decades, he could clearly feel that the strength of the entire army was rapidly declining after the previous battle. In the process of spreading from the plains to Hanzhong, some of the troops that had regrouped quickly collapsed under the Huaxia Army's attacks. That night, only Xi Yin's arrival gave him some comfort.
After four days of fighting, the troops under his command were already tired, and so were the Huaxia Army. But in this way, Xi Yin, who was at ease waiting for the exhausted, would obtain the most ideal opportunity.
Ba Lisu was dead, but Ning Yi could not come over.
That night, looking at the moon in the sky, Zonghan poured the liquor he carried with him on the ground, mourning for Ba Lisu.
This was a long life of battle, and how many people had died on the road …
That night, a large number of troops were risking their lives on the road, and Wanyan Shiya was trying to boost morale in the dark. This Direwolf, who had gradually matured, did not want to miss the battle that was about to take place outside Hanzhong.
All his life, he had longed to be a hero like his father's generation, and it was not until the death of his brother that he gradually understood the characteristics needed to become such a hero. At this moment, the strength of the Huaxia Army left him dumbfounded, but it also made his blood boil. Without such an enemy, how could his name be left in history?
Some people's stories would leave traces in history, but in life, these stories were not superior or inferior.
The Jurchen soldiers, who had fought alongside the Jin generals for more than 20 years, would think of their wives and children in their hometown in this knife-like moonlight. The Khitans, Liaodong people, and Xi people who had followed the Jin army south to seek fame for the last time felt fear and helplessness in their exhaustion. They followed the army south with the mentality of seeking wealth amidst danger, and fought bravely. But at this moment, the southwest had become an embarrassing quagmire. They could not bring back the gold and silver they had plundered, and the joy of killing and plundering had turned into regret. They also cherished the past, and even had families they cared about and warm memories — who didn't?
But many people from the Central Plains and the northwest no longer had families, and even their memories began to become less warm.
That night, more and more Huaxia troops arrived outside the Reed Gate of Hanzhong one after another. They had already gone through many rounds of fighting, and most of the soldiers were either lightly or heavily injured, but the defeat of the Jurchen people gave them endless strength. Some troops even tried to mount a sneak attack on the western or northern city walls, but of course, they did not succeed easily.
The troops that had arrived at the battlefield in Hanzhong were arranged by the General Staff Department to rest for a while, while a small number of troops were heading north, trying to break through the blockade of the streets and attack the more important positions in Hanzhong.
After nightfall, Chen Hai walked into the General Staff Department and asked Brigade Commander Hou Lietang for instructions, "The Jurchen's troops are all northerners. Wanyan Xiyin has arrived at the battlefield, but he has not attacked. I don't think it's because he doesn't want to, but because he can't. It's the flood season now, and they are heading north by ship. There will be storms, and many of them are seasick, so they can only fight tomorrow … I don't think we should let them sleep well tonight. I request for a night attack. "
"We've also considered the seasick issue, but do you think people like Xiyin won't guard against your sneak attack in the middle of the night?"
"Even so, we can't let them sleep well. I can let the three battalions under my command take turns to fight and make a big scene. In short, we can't let them sleep."
"… Makes sense. Commander Qin has gone to check the night. I'll report to him later. Get ready."
"Yes." Chen Hai saluted.
Walking out of the simple General Staff Department, the moon looked like it was about to fall from the sky. Chen Hai did not smile. His eyes were filled with the wind and snow that had started more than ten years ago. More than ten years ago, when he was still young, Mister Ning had wanted him to become a storyteller.
"The continuation of civilization does not rely on bloodlines."
"When the Jurchen came, many people died, and many people lost their entire clans. Zheng Yiquan's bloodline did not survive, but when he died, you were beside him, so you passed him on … try to pass on the story as much as you can … "
That day, Mister Ning had said this to him when he was still young. But in fact, over the years, Zheng Yiquan was not the only one who had died by his side. And today, he had a better and more powerful method to pass on their will.
In this world, there were some special moments when thousands of lines would gather towards one person. It would become weak, and it would become important. Some lines would break, and some lines would be carried by bystanders and continued to move forward. The continuation of bloodlines, the replacement of a nation, the rise and fall of a country, and the killing of all living things, had always been like this.
After Liu Muxia finished digging the pit, she silently sharpened her knife.
Someone counted the grenades and fire grenades and passed it over.
Chen Hai led a battalion of soldiers and quietly left from the side of the camp.
The sentry posts were replaced, and some people had the time to rest. They put on their clothes and slept, waiting for dawn.
"I can't sleep …"
Someone said softly.
"Let me tell you, I still remember the Central Plains more than ten years ago …"
The Central Plains more than ten years ago … Since that moment, how many people had cried, how many people had shouted, how many people had walked forward in heart-wrenching pain, and how many people had finally reached this step …
Everyone's story was very ordinary. The death of one person, in the midst of thousands of deaths, seemed so insignificant. But whose life and memories were not full of ups and downs in an epic?
Flames and torment had collided violently under the ground for many years. Countless, huge lines gathered at this moment.
Lava was erupting —
…
Chen Hai launched a night attack and fought with the scouts arranged by Xi Yin at the edge of the Han River. Battle cries shook the heavens, round after round.
The Jurchen soldiers in the camp were awakened from time to time by the sounds, and anger and anxiety gathered.
In the middle of the night, Xi Yin walked up the city wall. The defending general in the city was reporting to him the flames of war that were constantly burning in the western plains. The Hua Xia troops were penetrating from the northwest to the southeast, and Zong Han's troops were advancing from the west to the east. It wasn't just the plains in the west. The small-scale battles in Hanzhong City hadn't stopped either. In other words, the battles were happening everywhere he could see or not see.
Xi Yin leaned on the city wall and pondered for a long time.
"… Don't they need to sleep?"
He sighed softly.
The Hua Xia army they were facing was only twenty thousand people.
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