It was too close. In just over forty seconds, the Ming cavalry had rushed to the Mongolian army. Mu Ying waved his long sword and split the Mongolian archers beside him in half. The anger was suppressed for too long, and now he finally found a channel to vent. The sword was dancing like a wheel by Mu Ying, drawing a ball of white snow. Where the snowball passed, red light shone, and the opponent's body was cut. The white dragon foal under his foot was also infected by the atmosphere on the battlefield. He let out a long "sigh" roar and passed by the person.

With a drum, the Ming cavalry had already passed through the Mongolian team that rushed forward to meet the enemy, and their white robes were red. The Mongolian army was combed into several ditches by the Ming cavalry divided into groups. Before they could breathe, the horses circled, and the Ming cavalry turned over and plowed back under the leadership of their respective platoon leaders.

In the shape of scissors with the cavalry, the infantry arranged diagonally along the river bank, shooting and advancing step by step. Bullets hit the Mongolian army like raindrops, splashing blood mist. Behind the infantry, the artillerymen set up baby cannons and poured tens of thousands of kilograms of steel onto the Mongolian cannons. Mongolian cannons were sent to the sky, with thick smoke rolling, and the Mongolian army on the riverside made a group of chaos.

The instantaneous change made Dalima busy. The team of ten thousand people sent by the hasty was obviously unable to resist Mu Ying's cavalry. Driven by the sabre, countless people ran away with their heads, rushing the other team of ten thousand people who came forward to support him. Directly in front, the powerful firepower of the Ming army made the Mongolian soldiers retreat continuously, and some people had already begun to turn around and escape. The worst thing was that as a cannon rose on the other side, countless rafts were placed in the river. Fu Youde stood at the forefront of the tide and was about to kill ashore. This time he was the main force crossing the river.

"Shoot the arrows, shoot the arrows and shoot them." Darima waved his knife and slashed over a escaped subordinate and shouted loudly.

The sound of feather arrows breaking through the air was completely submerged by the sound of muskets. The Ming army infantry on the front stopped and began to shoot in the same spot with the Mongols. A row of Pu Dao hands quickly stepped forward and protected the body of the comrades with a giant shield. The iron pot-like helmet was obviously the nemesis of feather arrows. Most of the eagle feathers falling from the air hit the air were bounced away.

"Damn it, it hurts my ears so bad." Liu Mingyuan was hit by a feather arrow, put down his hand gun, covered his ears and cursed.

"This armor is really good. I'm done elsewhere." A regiment leader next to him smiled and pulled out the white feathers on his chest and threw them on the ground. He continued to shoot with his gun regardless of the blood in the crack of the armor. At an angle of more than 100 degrees with the squadrons, the cavalry that had successfully attacked was sorted out, slowly rotating the angle, preparing to launch a new round of charge diagonally. The scissors were closed, and more than 70,000 Mongolian troops were about to be annihilated on the riverside.

"You can't retreat, Dari shouted frantically, why haven't the war elephant come up yet? Hurry up, let the war elephant rush up and beat the opponent's infantry."

The war elephants of the Siamese (Ancient Thailand) were rushed to the front of the formation tremblingly. When the elephants heard the sound of cannons, the elephants were frightened and retreated. The Siamese people on the elephant's back were obviously unwilling to continue to work for Dalima. They were borrowed by King Liang for a large sum of money. They had suffered a lot of losses in the previous battle and were unwilling to continue to suffer losses. Moreover, they also knew that the war elephants might not be able to subdue their opponents.

"Let's retreat, you can't win anymore," the Siamese general said hesitantly.

Dalima put the steel knife in his hand on his neck, "Retreat, do you have shells running fast? Come on, otherwise I will be the first to chop you up."

The whistling shells interrupted their dispute. The Ming army gunners on the opposite side obviously discovered that this was the place where the Tartar generals gathered and began to bomb in a concentrated manner.

Pushing away the loyal guard who threw himself under him, Darima spitted out mud in his mouth while shouting to charge the elephant group. His voice had changed. The Siamese general who was arguing with him was far less lucky than his. Half of his body was blown away. Darima used his hand to pick up his itchy scalp and pulled down half of his intestines with his internal organs.

"Wow", this time he spitted out all his bile and killed so many people, the executioner tasted the fear of death for the first time.

Seeing the war elephant slowly approaching, Mu Ying stopped the cavalry's charge. The war horse had never seen such a giant before. He was a little frightened. The rider on the horse's back pulled the reins tightly and kept swirling on the spot. The war elephants were covered with thick iron armor, and bullets shot up and sparks flew everywhere.

Smiling, Mu Ying calmed down, Xiaohou Fang, look at you.

Fang Wenyong, who was plundering Mu Ying later, had already made preparations. He and Mu Ying were both descendants of the rebel army adopted by Zhu Yuanzhang. They have shared their lives and deaths since childhood and have a common mind. Mu Ying likes to lead the team to plunder, and Fang Wenyong always plunders for him.

Fang Wenyong pulled out an apricot yellow flag from the personal soldiers beside him and shook it gently.

"Ting Ping" a firework was lit, and an apricot-yellow late chrysanthemum was blown out in the air.

Dozens of artillery stopped firing together, turned the guns to aim at the direction where the war elephant came.

Hundreds of soldiers each rushed to their formation with a strange bag, took out a small thing, put it on the ground, and lit it with a fire snatch.

A shrill scream rang out, and countless small fireballs rushed towards the war elephant with a ghost-like trunk sound.

"Boom", the earth shook, and dozens of shells hit the elephant group, causing smoke and dust more than two feet high.

The dust settled, and more than a dozen war elephants fell to the ground, and the remaining dozen war elephants turned around and ran away, and the elephant slave on his back could not hold it.

The elephant went crazy and rushed towards Dalima's original formation at a speed like a horse. The Mongolian warrior who could not dodge was knocked down and ruined, and the whole team was in chaos. Someone rushed up to stop it, but the war elephant was rolled up with his nose and fell to the side, and he was unable to survive.

The small fireball also rushed to the Mongolians and fell to the ground exhausted, stopping.

It was the field mouse, and the Mongolian warriors finally saw these little things clearly. However, whether it was the cannon that made the elephants crazy or the field mouse that made the elephants crazy, there was no time on the battlefield for them to verify. The cannon directly sent them to the sky.

The first wave of crossing the river had already rushed ashore, occupied a foothold, and shot into the crowd one by one. Gao Laosan was playing and laughing, "I said that the field mouse would only go straight when it lights its tail. That's right, I made another great contribution this time."

"Fight your cannons well." The division commander Su Dapeng happened to rush past him and scolded with a smile: "Who knew it was shot by the cannons or your fire rat was scared."

Gao Laosan stuck out his tongue, picked up a shell with one hand, pushed the cannon chamber, and muttered while adjusting the firing angle: "At least half of the rat is responsible for it." The assistant next to him was amused by him, and the joy of victory began to permeate the position.

Mu Ying, who had been through many battles, would not leave any respite for Dalima, and the cavalry rushed over again and strangled the Mongolian archers.

Stepping on the rhythm of the war drum, the infantry began to advance again, shooting in turn, and each row of bullets caused a row of Mongolians to fall.

Fu Youde leaped onto the shore, rectified the team, and along the river bank, he extended a blade to the scissor-type attack team. While advancing, the soldiers looked for an opportunity to slash the Mongolian soldiers who were knocked down on the ground by muskets. The musketsmen didn't know how to deal with this situation and stopped slightly. They had never practiced to cooperate with other troops in this way. The panicked Mongolian army did not seize this fleeting opportunity. Before they could recover, Fu Youde's team had already rushed to see so many brothers fall down in front of them, and everyone was holding the belief in revenge.

Hate, they hated too much, they didn't want any Mongolians to live, Baishijiang was stained red with blood again, and the blood of the murderer flowed eastward along with the river water.

Seeing this, Mu Ying raised his hand and shot a green cannon into the sky, signaling Fang Wenyong to pay attention to moving the cannon forward and shooting, so as not to injure his own people by accident. Then he adjusted his team and rushed to the Mongolian central army directly.

"Kill, only kill but not capture." A large group of people followed him like a sharp knife, stabbing the heart of the Mongolian army. The infantry behind also began to charge, and the bright bayonets reflected the sun and became cold.

Darima finally understood what it meant to be defeated. The riots carried him to escape desperately towards the city. Bullets chased them behind them like eyes. The soldiers fled behind were knocked to the ground one by one. No need to surrender, anyone who was caught by the Ming army would be executed on the spot. When the city was massacred, they had already strangled their own way of life.

Passing through the city, without any time to bring any fineness, the Mongols fled desperately, trampled on each other, and the sound of chasing behind them became closer and closer, and people were constantly being chopped over to the ground by the pursued cavalry. Dalima took advantage of the inattention and rolled into the bushes on the side of the road, climbed into a pit, covered himself with dead branches and weeds, and did not move until the shouts of killing gradually faded away.

Taking off his battle robe, cutting off his beard, finding a stream to wash the blood on his body, facing the river, Dalima saw a haggard face. No one would recognize him as Lord Ping Zhang again, and all the killings and guilt were gone away. Looking up at the sun, he chose to go northwest away from Yunnan City.

The next morning, Dalima picked a few wild fruits randomly and continued to walk northwest. Only fools would run along the road. Can two legs run through four legs? Jackals have the wisdom of jackals. Dalima is definitely over. Dalima will not live and perish with Dalima, he wants to save himself. As long as you climb over this continuous mountain and bypass the land of the Xifan people, you can walk to the desert in more than three months, which is still under the control of the Mongols. Find a

Felt bag, begging for a horse, then crossing the desert northward, and reaching the prairie, that is the hometown of the Mongols. The feeling of being chased makes him tremble when he thinks of it, and he doesn't want to live such a life again. Go back to the northern grassland, where you can start a new life, don't be a general, stop killing people, marry a bad-looking wife, raise a flock of sheep. When spring comes, you will use wool to drive the felt with your wife and children and set up a tent.

Dalima is not afraid of climbing mountains or having no food. No one in the wilderness can't starve the Mongols. They are born hunters. Just as he was carefully planning how to return to the grassland to raise cattle and herd sheep, a rapid sound of horse hooves interrupted his thoughts.

He was a man in black, not a Ming warrior in white. Darima felt a trembling heart and almost sat on the ground. He found that it was not the enemy's outfit, and his face was unconsciously ecstatic.

The man in black on the horse ran quickly past him, took the horse, and turned around in pure Mongolian dialect and asked, "Is it Mahjong Dari?"

"You, recognize me, hurry up, give me the horse, and you will get a lot of rewards when you go back." Dalima shouted happily. God will not let me down. With this horse, you can escape from the pursuit of the Ming army faster.

Shaking his head, the man said in Mongolian saying: "I just confirm your identity so as not to kill a good person by mistake."

It was a spy. Dalima suddenly remembered that the warrior who guarded the city gate and let the people escape that night was dressed like this, and turned around and ran away. He never had the courage to face such a warrior alone. Suddenly, he felt his body lightening, Dalima saw himself flying up. In the air, the last voice heard by the executioner was: "100,000 people in Qujing City are waiting for you to confront you underground."

The scout brigade commander Wang Feiyu was the scout brigade commander. Yesterday, he chased the enemy despite his injuries and captured several Mongolian centurions alive along the way without asking about Dalima's whereabouts. He threw those scared guys to other soldiers to deal with it. Wang Feiyu buried his head and chased him hard. He didn't believe that God would not have eyes, which would allow the executioner to escape the punishment he deserved.

Until dark, Wang Feiyu did not chase Lima. Based on his intuition, he judged that his prey might have taken a small road and ran away. Wang Feiyu was very familiar with the terrain near Qujing City. He not only came here when he asked the Pingnan Army for information this year. When he was a teenager, Wang Feiyu vowed to visit famous mountains and rivers. Yunnan was the closest place to his hometown and his first stop to step out of Sichuan. After more than 80 years of rule in the Yuan Dynasty, all ethnic groups here could live in harmony. There were Han people who were rich, and Mongolians who could not afford usury to herd sheep for the Han people.

People, Dai, strong, and barbarians, live together in a non-aggressive way. On their respective festivals, they can even invite their neighbors to drink two cups. Half a month ago, Wang Feiyu and his subordinates walked into a Mongolian house outside Qujing, and looked at the subordinates who pretended to be a businessman and drank the milk tea that Mongolians were entertaining guests like medicine. The old Mongolian man was very hospitable. Seeing that the guests drank too fast, they thought they liked it, they poured a full bowl for each person, and watched them finish drinking the milk tea before letting them go.

It was all the evil ghost Dalima. Thinking of the innocent people who fell in pools of blood, thinking of how many years it took for the living to forget the hatred of the massacre of the city, Wang Feiyu vowed to catch this villain even when he went to the ends of the world. There was also a mountain road to Uszang (Tibet) outside Qujing City. You can cross Kunlun Mountain to reach the Duohuoxila tribe (now the Tarim Basin in Xinjiang), and searching through all possible places outside the city where you might hide. Wang Feiyu believed that Dalima, who was desperate, might embark on the road of death among the herdsmen. As expected, after a night of pursuit, Wang Feiyu finally got what he wanted.

After finding a pit to bury Dalima's bulky body, carrying Dalima's head onto the war horse, Wang Feiyu felt dizzy. The wound soaked in sweat began to feel biting pain. He was too tired, and only then did he remember that he had not been in water for a day and night. Keep his stomach and go back to the celebration banquet. Wang Feiyu smiled bitterly, gritted his teeth, and stepped onto the path back to the city one by one.

The road back was so long. It was not until almost noon that I saw Qujing City from afar. The white horse under my foot was spitting white foam and was about to lie on the ground. Baby, I was about to arrive and I had already seen the city gate. Wang Feiyu, who was shaking like a drunk, comforted his mount. Suddenly, he was stunned for a moment. The Qujing City Gate was wide open, and several soldiers stood at the door like clay sculptures. Through the empty city gate, there was no one in sight.

What happened again? There should be Mongolians. The soldiers of the Ming Dynasty should be fucked. The Han people who fled to the nearby areas should be rushed back after hearing the news. After all, this is their own home. Wang Feiyu was a little scared by the quiet city and asked at the soldiers at the door: "What happened? General Mu."

The platoon leader guarding the gate knew Wang Feiyu, a well-known hero in the entire army. He stepped forward to help him dismounted respectfully, and replied in a low voice: "Punish the Mongols on the riverside outside the city and pay tribute to our Ming soldiers."

"What, kill prisoners?" Wang Feiyu didn't believe his ears. This was something that had never happened to the Northern Army. Thinking about what Mu Ying shouted during the charge yesterday, he knew that the soldiers did not lie to him. No, I have to stop them. The prisoners can work to atone for their sins. Wang Feiyu thought habitually.

"It's not just the Tartar soldiers." The platoon leader's answer seemed to be commonplace. Suddenly he recognized the head of Wang Feiyu's horse's neck and shouted happily: "It's Darima, this bastard, congratulations to the general"!

Several nearby soldiers had just finished reading the reward picture posted by Fu Youde, and heard the news and ran over, grabbed the head and looked at it carefully, with a look of envy and admiration in their eyes. This is a ten thousand taels of gold, a deal that is higher than the first level.

"There are others." An ominous premonition rushed to Wang Feiyu's forehead. Putting aside these soldiers, he turned over and grabbed the horse's belly, and ran to the opposite city gate.

"General Wang, don't forget your brothers after promotion," the platoon leader shouted loudly behind him.

Wang Feiyu could no longer hear it. The scene on the roadside confirmed his judgment. Men, women, old and young people kept seeing Mongolians lying in pools of blood. Some were still smoke from the chimneys on the roof of the house, but the owner of the house had already collapsed at his doorstep. The more he went to the city, the worse the situation was.

"I am not a Han Chinese, I am not a Mongolian. Let my child beg you, please, I will give you everything." A woman rushed to Wang Feiyu's horse with a wail. The war horse was strangled by Wang Feiyu and angrily hit the stone pavement with four hooves.

"Uncle, let my child go, I will give you everything, I will give you everything." The woman was obviously crazy. She held Wang Feiyu's horse legs in one hand and untied her clothes with the other hand, revealing her snow-white breasts inside. On a tree not far from the roadside, a two-year-old child was nailed there by a crossbow arrow. It was a special Wuhou crossbow made by Huairou. Wang Feiyu had used him to kill countless Tartar soldiers.

"Beast"! Wang Feiyu could no longer help but cursed loudly, her voice sweetened and a mouthful of blood squirted on the woman's face.

"Blood, you're bleeding, hehe, blood." The crazy woman was shocked and forgot about his child for a while. She suddenly laughed while playing with the blood on her face. "Bloody..., it's a fire..., it's a murder..., it's a murder, don't kill me! Don't kill me! I give you everything, everything..."

Note to Drunkard: 1. The fire rat breaks the thief is a folk legend in Yunnan. Drunkards dare not believe it. In order to increase the viewability of the story, some of it was involved. The heroic brother once conducted an experiment. It is said that the rat's tail can only run straight when it is ignited.

2. Regarding the massacre of the city, all the stories of the massacre of the city in this chapter are fictional and not real in history. No matter which ethnic group's blood is shed, the drunkards are unwilling to see it.

3. This section was attacked a lot when it was published by VIP. The drunkard only hopes that everyone will express their opinions when they see the next section this week.

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1. "Rare Dragon Crossing the River", author: Skeleton Elf, online game, http:///showbook.asp?bl_id=11303
Chapter completed!