Zhao Yun, who had rested for a while and regained some energy, looked at Zhang Zhang again.
Seeing that there was nothing unusual about him, he took the silver gun again and continued to search the village for any Wuhuan people or survivors who might be stranded.
Until the remaining night faded, a ray of white appeared on the horizon, and the fires that had been burning in the village all night were extinguished one after another.
Zhao Yun came to a low wall and smelled the unusually strong smell of blood after a few steps.
He raised his left hand and signaled to the soldiers behind him.
Several soldiers looked at each other silently, then surrounded them with their swords knowingly.
Zhao Yun slowly approached, and there was a soft sound from behind the wall.
When he was two or three steps away from the low wall, a black shadow rushed out with a strong fishy smell.
The black shadow was holding a Han army-style Nian-shou sword. The long sword struck Zhao Yun head-on with a sharp sound of wind.
Zhao Yun, who had been on guard for a long time, easily made a mistake and got out of the way. Even though it was just a misstep, in the dim light of the sky, Zhao Yun could still clearly see the Daoshou knife in his hand and the black military coat on his body. The thorn is whipping, and the spear whip is on the shadow's shoulder.
The black shadow let out a cry of pain and dropped the sword in his hand to the ground. He stood unsteadily and jumped forward a few steps. Just as he was about to get up again, he was pressed to the ground by several soldiers and cursed in his mouth. A string of Wuhuan dialects.
Zhao Yun frowned and looked at the Wuhuan man on the ground.
Seeing the black coat on his body and the Daoshou knife in his hand, a coldness flashed in his eyes.
With Zhao Yun's eyesight, how could he not see that this was an open sword? It seems that the clothes were also peeled off from their brother Pao Ze.
Temporarily suppressing the rage boiling in his chest, Zhao Yun stepped towards the low wall. He wanted to see what evil these bastards had done to have such great blood.
Walking around the low wall, he saw everything in front of him clearly.
A dozen women of different ages were lying naked on the rugged gravel, their limbs and limbs broken and folded beneath their bodies. The large pools of blood soaked the land into a bright red color.
Zhao Yun's hand holding the spear suddenly tightened, so hard that his knuckles turned white.
He stood there, slightly averting his eyes, not looking at the bodies of the women on the ground.
After a long while, he took a deep breath and suppressed his anger.
"Don't come here!" Hearing the footsteps of the soldiers coming behind him, he stopped him in a deep voice, "Go find some clothes."
Many soldiers were stunned for a moment, and then they all understood what was happening behind the low wall.
Born in troubled times, barbarians, bandits, and soldiers came and went on this land. It was not difficult for them to guess what kind of tragedy would happen to a village that had been plundered.
After listening to Zhao Yun's words, several soldiers turned around and went to the village to find something to cover their bodies. Two of them passed by and stamped hard on the head of the Wuhuan man who was being held on the ground.
Zhao Yun lowered his eyes and walked around the corpses on the ground with expressions of pain on their faces, and walked to an open space behind the low wall.
Some fresh blood was sprinkled next to a big tree.
Bit by bit, it stretches along the ground and behind the tree.
In the mud on the ground, there was a row of shallow traces mixed with blood, which were the marks left by digging into the ground with his fingers after being dragged.
Zhao Yun also saw two nails with flesh hanging on them, and some broken hair with blood.
He hesitated for a moment, then followed the blood trail and walked behind a broken wall.
The young girl lay there alone, her bony limbs folded into a figure-eight shape, and her hair tied up with red cloth soaked in blood.
His eyes were staring at the sky, and his chest was still rising and falling.
Zhao Yun stepped over in two steps, not caring about avoiding suspicion, and stretched out his hand to feel her breath.
Then my heart sank suddenly.
The girl, who was almost indistinguishable from a dead body, trembled as if she was frightened.
She moved her eyes, and when she realized that the tall figure squatting in front of her was Zhao Yun, a glint of light flashed in her eyes.
Is it an illusion?
Or is it a dream before death?
She actually saw this person again, and the girl felt that her body didn't hurt that much anymore.
Her bloody lips moved slightly, and she opened her mouth to say something.
Zhao Yun knew this girl. He was a warrior with sharp ears and sharp senses. How could he not notice the girl's undisguised eyes following her?
It's just that he didn't mean it, so he would never respond to her in the slightest.
A girl should marry a man who loves her.
The minds of young girls are changeable, and they will forget them after a while.
Unexpectedly, meeting again would be such a scene.
Seeing her gasping for breath and moving her mouth as if she was saying something, Zhao Yun hurriedly bent down and listened.
If there's anything she can't let go of, he can help her within his power.
"Thank you..." The girl opened and closed her lips gently.
Zhao Yun was startled, thank you for what?
When he lowered his head and looked again, the girl had breathed her last breath, her eyes were closed, a teardrop appeared in the corner of her eye, and there was a trace of smile on her face.
Zhao Yun knelt on one knee beside the corpse and could not recover for a long time.
The sky is getting brighter and brighter, and a ray of morning light shines through the thick clouds.
The fire in the village was extinguished. When the wind blew, black ashes flew into the air, fluttering all over the sky and falling on people's heads and bodies like black snow.
Zhao Yun looked at himself, took off his armor, and took off the outer layer of military uniform to cover the girl's body.
Wearing only his underwear, he stood up, holding a gun in his hand, striding around the corpses on the ground, and walked out from behind the low wall.
He walked up to the Wuhuan man with blood on his head and face, turned the silver gun in his hand, and stabbed it heavily into the mud.
Signaling the two soldiers to let go of their hands, the Wuhuan man with a bloody face shook his dizzy head and raised his eyes to look at the tall Han general in front of him.
The other person looked at him condescendingly, his face expressionless, his eyes as cold as ice.
The Wuhuan man twisted his lips and laughed. He did not beg for mercy, nor did he try to escape. He just lay on the mud like a toad.
Zhao Yun paced, walked up behind him, stepped on his calf, bent down and grabbed his braid, forcing him to kneel down.
The Wuhuan man was in pain, and he bared his teeth and cursed a few Wuhuan words.
Zhao Yun didn't want to listen carefully, so he pulled out the dagger with one hand and put it against Wuhuan Ren's neck.
With the sharp blade at his throat, the Wuhuan man's face finally showed some wavering, and he said something hastily.
No one responded, and everyone stared at him expressionlessly.
The sharp blade cut through the skin, and a slight sting came. He was completely panicked, and stammered in Chinese: "I know Xiaoshuai's secret, don't kill me, tell me."
The sharp dagger did not stop as he wanted. It still cut from left to right on his neck very slowly but firmly.
He wanted to struggle, but it felt like there was a big mountain pressing on his head, and a strong force came from behind, forcing him to kneel on the ground, with his head held high and his throat exposed.
Sharp pain entered his mind, and he shook his head in panic, but he couldn't shake away the big hand holding his braid.
The smell of rust filled the nose and throat, and dark red blood flowed out of the cut like a waterfall.
His whole body went limp, and he no longer had the strength to struggle. Hearing the sound of his flesh being cut open and the sound of the dagger being stuck in his bones, he finally lost consciousness and fell into darkness forever.
