I don't know how much time has passed, but Mikhail seemed to hear someone calling his name far away. He wanted to open his eyes to see who it was, but his upper and lower eyelids seemed as heavy as lead cast. He accumulated a lot of strength before he tried to open his eyes. He saw a hazy look in front of him, as if everything was shrouded in a thick fog.

"Captain! Captain! Hurry up!"

Mikhail's eyes turned, and he saw Yu Zhiheng shaking himself violently, his face full of concern. Mikhail smiled hard and asked, "How is it now?"

"My person has already been pushed up, don't worry! Master!" Yu Zhiheng looked at Mikhail's chest worriedly. Mikhail also felt the other person's gaze. He reached out and touched his chest, and his fingertips immediately felt a slippery feeling. When he looked at his palms, he was already bright red.

"Master, don't worry. I will bandage you immediately and let someone carry you down on a stretcher. Everything will be fine!" Yu Zhiheng clumsily tore open the hem of Mikhail's shirt to make bandages, but for some reason, he tore it a few times but didn't tear the shirt open.

"No need to trouble, Yu!" Mikhail pushed Yu Zhiheng's arm weakly: "So much blood must have been broken by shrapnel. You are just prolonging my pain! Death on the battlefield is not a terrible thing for a Russian." Speaking of this, he stretched out his hand and touched it in his chest, took out a blood-stained relic box, kissed it on his lips, and whispered: "Yu, please give this to my wife, and tell her that her husband has used his life to serve God and the Tsar, and I love her--" Speaking of this, Mikhail finally exhausted his last little life. His right hand holding the cross lost its strength, and the relic box fell back to his chest.

Yu Zhiheng reached out to stroke Mikhail's face a few times, wiped away the blood stains on his face, took off the holy relic box and put it in his arms, and whispered to him: "Please rest assured, Master Mikhail, I will definitely bring this to your wife!" Then he stood up and looked at the battlefield.

At this time, the Shun Army had occupied most of the stone walls and seized the rebel Napoleon cannon. If it weren't for the more than 200 reserve teams led by Yu Zhiheng, the Shun Army might have occupied the entire small dome highland, but even so, they were not far from their goals. Li Bin stood on the Napoleon cannon, waving his sword, and loudly motivated his soldiers: "Be brave, children, be braver, drive these bastards down the mountain, you will be

If you do it, you have to do it!" But the soldiers of the rebels would never retreat around the flag and Tian Chao's body. No matter how Li Bin encouraged his subordinates, they still could not drive the enemy completely from the high ground. At this time, the pointer of time had already pointed to five o'clock in the afternoon, and the soldiers on both sides were exhausted. Even with Li Bin's arrogance, they had to admit that they could not win alone. The balance of victory fell to depends on which reinforcements on which side could arrive first.

At this time, the dense bushes behind the high ground began to shake violently, and a pointed helmet of the Shun Army drilled out from it, followed by the gray coat unique to the Shun Army. This was the long-awaited detour army led by Duncan. They wandered around the dangerous swamp for more than an hour, and several Shun Army soldiers paid the price of their lives. However, when this critical moment, the small army finally appeared in this critical place.

As for what happened next, I think it would be enough to directly quote Mr. Gillins' original text mentioned in his famous memoir. Thanks to the wonderful writing of this British gentleman, this small-scale battle actually took up more than two pages in "History of China in Cambridge". You should know that the famous Battle of Red Cliff only took up four lines of words and 117 English words in "History of China in Cambridge", which is simply ridiculous to its Chinese readers.

"When I saw Major Duncan's red hair appearing from the bushes at the foot of the mountain, I had to think of the afternoon of June 18, 1815, which happened to be five o'clock, on the high hills of Frischmond. (This refers to the battle of Waterloo, when the British and French armies fought fiercely until five o'clock in the afternoon, leading Blüchel of Prussia to lead the troops to attack the French army, and Napoleon was defeated.) Perhaps some gentlemen would think that I was a bit exaggerated to the great battle that determined the fate of Europe compared to this small conflict on the edge of the world. But if we stand taller and look farther away, we will find that there is a close connection between this "small battle" and the two wars that almost destroyed the entire European civilization thirty years later. As a Chinese proverb says: "Although it is obvious at the end, it will be small at the beginning!"

Now let's go back to that battle. Under Major Duncan's leadership, the small group of Chinese soldiers crossed the swamp and appeared behind the high ground where the rebels were located. It was like a small piece of weight falling on one end of the scale, and victory immediately became an obvious fact. The rebels who were attacked on both sides fell in rows, but except for a very few, the vast majority of them bravely fell on their positions.

The gains and losses of the small dome heights determined the outcome of the entire battle. The Chinese commander immediately sent a birth force to detour the central position of the rebels, and moved his artillery to the small dome heights. After occupying this very good artillery position, the Chinese excellent artillery could shoot the rebels' central position on the side. By seven o'clock in the evening, the rebels completely collapsed, and thousands of people threw their weapons and tried to escape from the position in the night, but under the pursuit of a large number of Tatar cavalry who were loyal to the Chinese emperor, only a very small number of people could

Escape from the day. In the next few days, the barbaric Tatar cavalry carried their heads that had just been cut off as proof of bounty. Of course, they also caught them alive when possible, because behind the army, many slave merchants were willing to pay for the prisoners and resell them to the west, which was a very profitable business. There were many large cotton plantations in the west willing to buy these slaves at high prices, which provided more than half of the high-quality raw cotton to factories in Jiangnan, China that were fiercely competing with Manchester textile enterprises."

Now let's re-redirect the time pointer back to two in the morning of the day and talk about the unfortunate battlefield again, because this is essential for an important role in this book.

On the evening of June 17, 1886, it was a full moon night. The moonlight gave many conveniences to the fierce pursuit of the Xibe and Kobdo cavalry of the Shun Army. It pointed out the movements of the deserters for him, and handed over the crowds in the catastrophe to the greedy Mongolian cavalry, which led to the massacre. In the natural disaster, the nightlight sometimes helped people to kill and prosper.

In the last row of rebel soldiers fell among the crowd, and the flat ground on the top of the small garden was only a desolate scene.

The infantry of the Shun Army occupied the rebel camp, which was the usual practice of the winner, and lay high on the couch of the loser. Gao Tingyu returned to his tent and began to write memorials to the court.

After describing the fierceness and cruelty of the war, in order to prevent my readers from having the illusion that war is a noble activity, human emotions are sublimated in the war, so that war can make human beings noble and great. No, war is not like this, at least not exactly like this, it also has an ugly side, such as collecting the property of dead people immediately after victory, and the dawn of the next day often shines on naked bodies.

Of course, from ancient times to the present, obtaining trophy has been a natural right of the winner, but this does not mean that the dirty and profitable guys are all soldiers. Just as there is always a small fish in the ocean that follows the shark and enjoys the food residues left by the former, from ancient times to the present, there is a tail behind the army. These bat-like figures, half bandits and half servants, wear military uniforms without going into battle, pretend to be sick, ride with a lame heart and black horse

Horses, sometimes with women, take women, take carts, sell private goods, sell and sneak in, beggars, orders, pickpockets, etc., who ask officers to guide them, are vaguely visible in the corners of history books. Whether their amount depends on the strictness of the general's military discipline, so we can judge the strictness of the general from the number of tails behind the army. As for Gao Tingyu, he cannot avoid the vulgarity, but the number is not large.

However, on the night from June 17th to 18th, Gao Tingyu was strict and ordered to be killed on the spot, but thefts were rampant.

Just when the thieves were executed on the battlefield, theft was still carried out on the other side of the battlefield.

The bleak moonlight shines on the field.

At about three o'clock in the morning, a man wandered around the concave road on the right side of the small garden high ground. Judging from the appearance of this person, it was exactly the kind of person we just described, neither Shun Army nor Rebel, neither soldier nor civilian, three-point like a man and seven-point like a ghost. He was wearing a cloak with a head covering, sneaky, but full of courage. He walked forward and looked back. Who was that person? His origin, the night might know more than the day.
Chapter completed!