Chapter 1 The Han Family

Author: The 300-pound cook

Chapter 1 The Han Family

Spring in the northern foothills of Kunlun Mountain often comes later, but it does come after all.

The ice and snow melt and the seeds germinate.

The vast Lop Nur Sea is like a dark blue gem inlaid on the earth, like a huge listening ear; the water and grass on both sides of the Milan River are lush, cattle and sheep are multiplying, and shepherds are singing.

The song is lonely, sad and confused.

On the sunny slopes, the grass is luxuriant and the wild flowers are pitiful.

On a crooked wooden stake, a naked man was sitting on his knees: his head was facing toward the sky, with a miserable expression. Half of the sharpened wooden stake was poked out of his mouth, stained with blood, pointing straight to the sky.

His eyes were wide open, full of pain, anger and unwillingness.

He was a slave, maybe Han, maybe Qiang, maybe Loulan, maybe Dayuezhi or Parthian... In short, he was not a Huns.

Of course, none of this matters.

Because, he died in the middle of the night.

The huge pain exhausted this man's vitality, making him look very depressed. Aomori's face was covered with a layer of fine dew, shining brightly in the sunlight.

A vulture landed, squatted on top of the man's head, turned its head and thought about it, and then tried to take a bite.

So, more vultures came.

They looked very proud, like a group of nobles attending a banquet, with indifferent expressions, enjoying this gluttonous feast as if no one else was around, and would stop from time to time to look at the snow-capped mountains in the distance for a while.

Or, he tilted his thick neck and glanced coldly at the few Huns eating meat and drinking wine, and the Qiang people who were busy like dogs not far away.

And, the pale and very thin young man: Han Jiazi, Yang Chuan.

He was busy with his eyes downcast, chopping firewood, feeding the horses, carrying water, picking up the cow dung left in the grass, and neatly stacking it next to the host's tent, as silent as a stone.

Yes, he can only remain silent.

Even if the man who was executed on the stake secretly gave him a few pieces of salt and a piece of cooked mutton the night before, and told Yang Chuan his name.

But what's the use?

After all, he was only twelve years old. Over the past few years, no matter how hard he tried to 'exercise' in private, his arms and legs were still like a few bean sprouts. His only strengths were rock climbing and tree climbing.

By the way, he is also very fast when running.

In other words, Yang Chuan today is just a flexible slave...

…

Weakness is the original sin.

The Huns punished a slave who cooked, just to beat the Qiang people. There was no need for any reason at all; they just didn't know who the unlucky guy would be next?

In order to avoid becoming the next unlucky person, Yang Chuan carried a backpack that was almost as tall as himself, pretended to be looking for scattered cow dung in the grass, and walked quietly into the distance.

"Danmuji, your Qiang people's mutton is very fat, and your salt is also very white, but why is the mutton not delicious?"

"Could it be that your Aries tribe wants to take refuge with the Han people?"

"Could it be that you want to sit on that wooden pile?"

"Honorable Captain Ten, our cook is dead... How about I send some plump Qiang girls over?"

"..."

The faint conversation between the Huns and the Qiang people could be heard, and Yang Chuan felt a sense of gloating in his heart.

These Qiang people were originally quite ferocious. They could be regarded as a group of hyenas on the grassland. They often appeared in the Longxi area and plundered the Han people's food, people and livestock.

However, since they migrated westward in large numbers and took refuge with the Huns, they quickly turned into a group of sheep, allowed to be slaughtered, and enjoyed the whips, knives and humiliation of the Huns.

I have to say, this can be considered retribution, right?

Thinking that the damn Danmujitou man should be sweating profusely and banging his head on the ground at this moment, using the women of their Aries tribe to eliminate the anger of the Huns, Yang Chuan felt a little happy in his heart.

'Dog bites dog, two mouths are full of hair.'

'No, the Huns claim to be from the Wolf Riha, while the Qiang people claim to be from the Sheep Riha. This is not considered dog eating dog.'

'In the final analysis, the wolf eats the sheep...'

Just as he was thinking secretly, suddenly, he felt the hairs on his back stand up, as if he was being watched.

"Is that a Han kid?"

A very strong Huns pointed at Yang Chuan's back and laughed loudly: "Danmujitou people, since your tribe has Han slaves, why don't you let him be your cook?

You have to know that even our king of the Huns likes to eat beef and mutton cooked by Han cooks!"

Yang Chuan cursed secretly and wanted to leave the place where this was wrong as quickly as possible, but he couldn't make it too obvious, so he could only continue to look for cow dung calmly and walk forward slowly...

"stop!"

At this moment, a Qiang man shouted loudly: "That Han bastard, why don't you get over here!"

Yang Chuan's heart skipped a beat, but his face didn't change at all, with a dull expression. Without any pause, he picked up a ball of wet cow dung and threw it into the basket.

Then, he continued to search in the grass, seemingly not hearing the Qiang people's shouts.

In the past few years, he has never spoken in front of others, pretending to be mute, but he has basically learned the language of the Huns and Qiang people.

But he didn't learn a few sentences of the Chinese language he wanted to learn most.

Because, in this remote and wild land, he has never seen any Han people, so he still has not figured out who the current emperor of the Central Plains is...

"Don't stop yet!"

The Danmu Jitou man scolded fiercely, strode after him, grabbed Yang Chuan's disheveled hair, and said with a ferocious smile: "Damn Han bastard, I know you are mute, are you also deaf?"

"Why don't you go over and pay homage to the distinguished Captain of Ten!"

While talking, the Danmu Jitou man used his strength and threw Yang Chuan seven or eight steps away. The cow dung in the basket on his back was splashed all over the floor, and the smell was terrible.

Yang Chuan got up from the ground, with a harmless look on his face, and pointed at his nose.

"Yes, it's you!" Dan Muji scolded fiercely in Hun dialect, "Let's go, the tenth captain has something to ask you!"

Yang Chuan walked over slowly, with his eyebrows lowered and his head lowered, like a lamb waiting to be slaughtered.

"Are you Han? Do you know how to cook mutton?" The Hun commander looked up and down at the thin young man in front of him, and the disappointment on his face was very obvious.

Yang Chuan nodded silently and cursed in his heart: 'I can not only cook mutton, but also make a whole lamb feast...'

"Go, kill a lamb and cook it. If it doesn't taste good, you will die." The Huns pointed to the wooden pile not far away and said coldly: "You will become like that too."

Yang Chuan turned around and looked around, feeling a chill in his heart.

The vultures who had feasted flew away.

On the crooked wooden pile, the body of the alien slave was left with only a miserable skeleton. Two empty eye sockets stared at the bright sun, focused, indifferent and calm...

The cook is unemployed and writing a book at home. I hope everyone can read it...

Internal investment has passed, please feel free to invest.
Chapter completed!