"Ah——"

Lin Junshu, wearing coarse clothes, woke up from the shabby bed, gasping for breath in shock.

"Are you having nightmares again..."

Lin Junshu stood up and pushed the door open. In front of him was a farmhouse-like layout, with a well in the courtyard.

Lin Junshu picked up half a bucket of water, picked up the water and slapped it on his face.

More than a week has passed since he escaped from the woods. He still often dreams about the scene that day.

An old man with tentacles of flesh and blood growing out of his chest, a general with an arrogant face on a white horse, a big man laughing heartily with an arrow in his chest and abdomen, and the soldiers whose faces could not be seen clearly, or whose heads were tied with yellow scarves, or who were wearing armor.

Then they began to fight crazily in front of their eyes. The monsters and the broken bodies were intertwined, and they gradually lost their human appearance. The alienated monster broke the soldier's waist, and the sergeant who was missing half of his head still struggled to open his mouth to the enemy beside him.

Bite it off.

He wanted to stop it, he wanted to destroy it, and he wanted to escape. But in the dream, he could do nothing. Like the witness agreed by everyone, he stood beside the strange battlefield, watching this seemingly never-ending battle.

Fighting.

Then, every time, after who knows how long, they stopped tacitly understanding at the same moment, and then looked straight at Lin Junshu.

Use the remaining eyeballs, the dark holes, and the eye sockets full of tentacles.

They stood up from the sea of ​​flesh and blood and walked towards Lin Junshu.

Watching him, but silently passing by him one by one, walking behind him.

When the last figure passed him by, Lin Junshu's body regained its mobility.

He suddenly turned around, but the figures of the group of people had disappeared without a trace, and only the back of the old man stood silently in the distance.

Endless tentacles seemed to have broken through some kind of boundary and eagerly emerged from every part of his body.

The old man's human form can no longer be seen, just like a piece of flesh and blood with a slight outline that is constantly squirming.

The old man, who was bound by countless tentacles, still held his cane tightly as he took steps with difficulty.

"Wait-"

Lin Junshu's hoarse shouts came, and the "old man"'s raised foot paused slightly, and the meat ball where the head was originally located only slightly turned backwards. He stepped down hard, sparking a white light, and then disappeared.<

/p>

Every time Lin Junshu dreams of this place, he wakes up.

When he first started having nightmares, he just felt that the experience of those two days had brought him too much stimulation. After all, he was a good young man who grew up in the 21st century. In his more than 20 years of experience,

, I haven’t even seen killing a chicken a few times.

But every time it was the same nightmare, the same opening, the same fighting, the same disappearance, the same feeling of powerlessness...

He began to suspect that the nightmare was not caused by mental stimulation, but more like some kind of omen, foretelling that the old man and the Yellow Turban Army led by him would eventually lead to a glorious demise just like the history in his memory.

"Xiao Lin, are you up? Have you had breakfast? Auntie has steamed rice. Come and have some in Auntie's room?"

The neighbor's aunt asked Lin Junshu kindly across the low earth wall.

Lin Junshu stood up and smiled heartily at Auntie: "Thank you, Auntie. I'll go to the military tent for dinner later."

There are many such old, weak, women and children in the camp of the Yellow Turban Army.

They are all the most ordinary common people. Some of their husbands, some of their children, some of their grandchildren, and some of their fathers all participated in this mighty Yellow Turban Uprising that swept through half of the Han Dynasty.

Many of their relatives can no longer come back. The safest hinterland, wrapped in numerous military camps, contains the softest and warmest place for every Yellow Turban soldier.

The aunt enthusiastically invited her several times, but Lin Junshu flatly refused. There was someone in charge of the food in the military tent. The food in this era was definitely not delicious, but it was still enough to fill up.

But these families of the Yellow Turban Army who have lost their loved ones can only rely on the supplies provided by the army. In this era, not everyone can eat white rice.

The room that Lin Junshu lived in belonged to the aunt's son. He was similar in age to her sacrificed son, so the aunt had always taken good care of him.

"Xiao Lin, the big pot of rice in the military camp doesn't taste good. You are at this age when you are exerting your strength. If you don't eat well, you should tell your aunt, and she will cook delicious food for you!"

Lin Junshu looked at the nagging aunt with silver hair on her head, kept smiling and nodding in assurance, and finally sent the aunt back to the house.

After escaping from the valley that day, as Li Lun said, Huangfu Song's troops did not risk going deep, which gave them hope of survival.

Zhang Jiao lost all his strength after walking out of the valley. With Lin Junshu half-carrying and half-supporting him, he trudged for several miles before finally meeting Hu Jian, the small commander of the Yellow Turban Army who came to meet him. He couldn't come back.

Li Lun is his subordinate.

Lin Junshu followed Zhang Jiao back to Julu. Because he was not a member of the Yellow Turbans and had no intention of joining the Yellow Turbans, he arranged for him to live in a family house.

What Lin Junshu saw here was very different from what he imagined.

Those Yellow Turban soldiers who were not afraid of death on the battlefield, even a little crazy, but each one with a warm smile, spoke a simple local accent, and chatted with relatives at home.

He was in a daze, and it was difficult to connect the strong figure in his memory with the warm picture in front of him.

"Does that man also have such a side?"

Finally, he finally understood that most of the Yellow Turban Army were desperate people.

Wearing yellow scarves, they are Yellow Turban soldiers who are not afraid of death.

After taking off the yellow scarves, they are just like the lower-class civilians struggling to survive in every era, just ordinary people no different from you and me.

Zhang Jiao would often inspect the military camp and family areas after dinner.

At this time, he was like an ordinary kind old man.

There is very little talk about righteousness, evil spirits and the like.

Just chatting casually with soldiers or relatives who have lost loved ones.

At most, I occasionally add a sentence at the end: "The era will eventually come when everyone can live in this world without oppression. Maybe Huang Tian's dream will be realized in our hands, but even if we fail, there will definitely be something else."

People, fight for the same ideals! As long as oppression continues and Huang Tian, ​​​​where the public resentment gathers, will be like us today, crushing all power!"

This chapter is not over yet, please click on the next page to continue reading!

Zhang Jiao does not have the urgency and tension before the final battle. He is like an old man who already knows that his time is numbered. He accepts everything calmly and follows him with nostalgia. He keeps moving forward for the same dream of Huang Tian.

Comrades!

After the failure of the last encirclement and suppression of Zhangjiao, Huangfu Song has begun to gather all the troops in his hands.

Hundreds of thousands of Yellow Turban Army soldiers are also gathering in Julu, Qinghe, and Guangzong.

In a month at most, this Yellow Turban Uprising, which is "organized internally and externally, and spread across eight states simultaneously," will face its biggest challenge.

Lin Junshu recalled what he had seen and heard in the Yellow Turban Army camp in the past few days.

The "Essential Technique of Balance (Cultivation)" given to him by Zhang Jiao reduced his original pollution level from 13% to 9%, and the effect was remarkable.

However, he also feels that this is because his own pollution level is relatively low.

After all, Zhang Jiao, who taught him this, after using magic to quickly restore himself at a certain cost, the pollution level is still above 80%.

The day before yesterday, Zhang Jiao came to Lin Junshu again and handed him a technique called "Qi Sword Light". He could use the contaminated evil power he carried as power to fly out the weapon suddenly and quickly, turning it into a weapon.

With the light of the sword, behead the enemy.

It's a bit like sword control, but unfortunately it can only be released but not closed. It's more like using the body as a gun to shoot bullets called "sword light".

Zhang Jiao only said that this method is easy to learn but difficult to master, so he should study hard and use it when necessary later.

Although he felt that there was something in Zhang Jiao's words, Lin Junshu didn't think much about it. Isn't this life-saving move for killing enemies from a distance exactly what he urgently needs right now?

I used these few days to keep in touch, and I was able to get through the door by going back and forth, and I could barely get out.

Lin Junshu, who returned to his room, was planning to practice a few times before going to the military tent for dinner. A short black man with a beard pushed the door open and barged in impatiently.

It was Hu Jian, the young commander of the Yellow Turban Army who came to meet them first that day.

As soon as Hu Jian entered the door, he saw Lin Junshu, who had just taken out a long knife and was in a strange posture, stunned in embarrassment.

"Why didn't you knock on the door!"

Hu Jian grabbed Lin Junshu's arm, took the long knife in his hand with the other hand, and dragged Lin Junshu outward.

"Hey! Jun Shu, come with me quickly! The leader is looking for you!"
Chapter completed!