Not only that, we also hid in the mountains with all the serfs, leaving only the chieftains and their soldiers to guard.

Everyone is afraid that the Red Army will steal their things, that they will be captured and eaten as food, and that Buddhist statues and temples will be smashed."

"What happened next?" Wei Ran asked subconsciously in Chinese.

Turning his head and looking at Wei Ran who seemed to be in a daze next to him, the little lama continued, "Later we heard that the Red Army did not eat people or steal things, but they gave some of the chieftains' land and property to

serf.

Even if the family's highland barley was cut off by the Red Army, some found silver coins in the highland barley fields, and some found wooden boards with writing on them.

The big lama could speak Chinese, but he said it was an IOU issued by the Red Army, and he would not allow me to tell it to the serfs."

After a pause, the little lama rubbed his belly and continued, "Before I was sent to the temple to be a benefactor, I had a good friend named Lam. Her father was the serf owner's mount. Later, he accidentally fell while carrying the serf owner.

After a fall, his hand tendons and hamstrings were severed and he was thrown into the wolf's den.

The serf owners also captured her mother, cut out her tongue, and chopped off the soles of her feet."

Hearing this, Wei Ran couldn't help but tremble, but the little lama continued, "The serf owner gave that woman to his youngest daughter as a mount.

And my friend Ram, she is a good-looking girl, one year younger than me, but she did not survive either.

She was made into a thangka by the serf owner, and her skull was made into a wine bowl, which was hung in the serf owner's home and placed on the serf owner's table."

"What mistake did she make?"

Wei Ran and the little lama said the same sentence almost at the same time, just one in Zang language and the other in Chinese.

"She is not wrong, she has done nothing wrong."

The little lama's face showed a hint of bitterness that did not match his age. He clenched his fists and murmured in pain, "The thangka on her body was painted by my master. The serf owner also used that wine bowl to entertain my master."

Wiping the corners of his eyes, the little lama continued to talk to himself, "I heard many stories about King Gesar told by the bards.

This chapter is not over, please click on the next page to continue reading! I think the Red Army may be King Gesar’s magic weapon. I believe that the Red Army can definitely save those serfs and can definitely save more Lamu. So I also want to be a Red Army

, Let’s revolution together, fight against Japan together, and save more Ram with our own hands.”

"You can, you definitely can." Wei Ran nodded in response, "The Workers' and Peasants' Red Army can definitely do it."

"Last year, there was a young lama in our temple who became a Red Army soldier."

The little lama stretched out the half of the Red Army uniform that belonged to the deceased patient Jiang Yu, "He was wearing clothes like this at that time, wearing leggings, straw sandals, and carrying a big knife. He was so impressive. Story

The generals under King Rigsal are nothing more than that.

From that time on, I wanted to be a member of the Red Army. I wanted to wear a military uniform like this and carry a sword on my back. I didn’t like to spin prayer wheels, but I was willing to pray for the Red Army and join the revolution with the Red Army to save the poor."

Having said this, the little lama patted the cannon box still attached to his waist, raised his head and thought with an unstoppable smile, "When I am also a Red Army soldier, when I come back with the big army,

I must personally arrest the serf owner who killed Ram's family.

I want to make his skin into a thangka, his skull into a wine bowl, and let my master make it himself."

Looking at the tears falling from the corner of the little lama's eyes with the rain, Wei Ran sighed silently. He only hoped that the little lama could really realize his dream in the future.

Amidst the falling rain, the little lama sang a song full of despair in Zang language, "There are wild beasts on the mountain without owners, and there are no people without owners at the foot of the mountain. Even if the snow-capped mountains turn into butter, they are still occupied by the lord. Even if the river turns into butter,
Chapter completed!