But it was this place that gave birth to the first unified dynasty in the history of Kyushu.
Two thousand years have passed.
The past dynasty has been destroyed, leaving only the huge mausoleum, stubbornly waiting for the glory of the Qin Dynasty.
Around the mausoleum, there is the buzz of machinery and hundreds of construction vehicles, digging day and night.
There are dark clouds coming from the north and gathering in the sky.
Then the rain poured down in torrents.
The rain was filled with the smell of blood and gunpowder smoke.
That's the message from the northern battlefield.
The heavy rain was pouring down, the rain was pouring, the wind was whining, and it seemed like countless dead souls were mourning.
Ten days ago, the northwest section of the sixth line of defense was breached, and millions of demonic beast legions poured in like a tide, wreaking havoc on the vast northwest land.
The ten cities in the northwest were destroyed accordingly.
In the vast northwest, 40 million people lost their homes and were forced to move south.
The road in front of the cemetery was crowded with people fleeing, dragging their families and families along the muddy road.
The woman holds the child, and the man carries the old man on his back.
The rain was hitting them, but these people who had left their homeland were unaware of it.
It's just a hard walk step by step.
The long road seems to have no end in sight.
There is no hope either.
"Didi!"
A bus was coming, and the pedestrians who were struggling to walk finally raised their heads, and a flash of light flashed in their dark eyes.
Immediately afterwards, the crowd rushed to the bus.
"I can't walk anymore, let me get in the car!"
"Child, my child has a fever, let him get in the car!"
"Please, save my mother!"
The crowd slapped the carriage and begged.
The driver, whose eyes were sunken and hadn't slept for three days, shouted in a hissing voice: "It's full, there's no room left, just wait for the next one!"
He stepped on the accelerator ruthlessly.
The crowd watched blankly as the bus drove away.
Some people were shouting and cursing, some were crying, but more people continued to move forward silently.
This is a journey.
They are already used to it.
Already numb.
Among the crowd, there were city officials shouting in hoarse voices,
"Don't be discouraged, everyone. Seventy kilometers ahead is Shangluo City. There is hot water, food, and a place to sleep. If you persist, you will be there soon!"
As soon as he finished speaking, a middle-aged man suddenly came forward and punched him in the face, "Hold on, hold on, how many more times are you going to lie to us! We walked for eight days from Weicheng to here, and you always said,
You'll be able to rest soon, but every time, you have to cross the city without entering!"
"My father died of exhaustion on the road, and my daughter is also sick now. If you still let us go, where can we go?!"
The man's eyes were bloodshot, and he didn't know whether it was from anger or despair, and his whole body was trembling.
The official lay on the ground, dazed for a moment, then got up with difficulty.
His haggard face was swollen, and the corners of his mouth were cracked and bleeding.
The official wiped the blood and mud from his face, struggled to smile, and almost said in a pleading tone, "Believe me, please believe me again."
The middle-aged man raised his fist again.
But this time, facing the other party's sad smile, he couldn't do it after all.
"Thanks."
The official slowly turned around, looked at the hundreds of people he had brought out from his hometown city, and shouted at the top of his lungs:
"Please hold on, everyone. Our home is gone. Behind us are millions of terrifying monsters. If they catch up, none of us will survive."
"We have no way out. Please hold on a little longer."
Bow deeply.
The crowd stopped looking at him, lowered their heads, and continued to move forward.
The official was silent, and helped a lonely old man next to him to carry his bag and salute, and walked forward with one foot deep and one foot shallow. Two lines of hot tears flowed out and mixed with the cold rain hitting his face.
He murmured to himself, "I brought you out. Even if you die, I will take you to a safe place."
From time to time, vehicles passed by, but without exception, they were all filled with people.
The crowd moved forward with difficulty.
I don’t know how much time passed.
Military trucks loaded with wounded soldiers from the front line were evacuated to the south.
In the car, there were soldiers, officers, and returnees, all covered with scars.
In their eyes, there was fatigue, unwillingness, and pain.
The motorcade passed by slowly.
Suddenly, soldiers jumped out of the truck and rushed north.
"Qian Peng, come back!"
In the truck, there was an atavistic warrior who pulled the door, leaned out and shouted.
Seeing that the soldier did not obey the order, the warrior jumped out of the car, quickly chased after him, and pounced on him.
Li Xiang looked over.
I saw that the soldier was still very young, only seventeen or eighteen years old.
"Let me go!"
"My mother is still in Tongchuan!"
The little soldier with a broken arm struggled hard.
The warrior shouted: "It's gone! Tongchuan is gone!"
"Your mother is gone too!"
The little warrior roared, "Liar, I don't believe it, my mother is still waiting for me!"
The warrior slapped him, "Wake up, I! The northwest defense line collapsed, and more than half a million of us died. Don't you think it's enough!"
The slap made the little warrior stunned for a moment, and then he knelt on the ground with a thud, and his head hit the mud again and again.
Helpless, desperate.
The warrior lifted him up, picked up the gun that fell on the ground, and stuffed it into his arms, "Hold the gun for me. Only by living can you avenge your mother!"
He turned around again and shouted at the injured and injured people in the car, "Eighth Company! Everyone is here, get out of the car!"
Dozens of injured people jumped out of the car, and those with broken legs were also carried out.
The warrior turned around and shouted to the crowd: "Let the children and the elderly get in the car!"
Among the crowd, someone cried.
A child was put on the bus.
Someone went to help the old man, but the old man yelled, "Get out of here, I can move, leave the space for the children!"
Another old man said, "Sir, I have also been a soldier and fought monsters. You brats, don't look down on me!"
All the old people refused to get on the bus.
then.
The military truck was filled with children.
In the convoy, all the wounded soldiers gave up their positions.
Military trucks carrying children slowly left.
"Mom, I want mom!"
"Dad, come up quickly!"
In the car, the children were crying.
"Baby, mommy will come to you soon!"
"Brother Feng, be good and be good!"
Young parents, running after the car, waving and crying.
But they couldn't catch up with the vehicle after all.
A convoy full of children headed south.
Also heading towards the hope of living.
In the team.
The little soldier carried the gun on his back, stepped forward, and used his remaining arm to support a gaunt man in his nineties.
The middle-aged man who punched the official came over, squatted in front of a lame wounded soldier, and carried him on his back without waiting for the soldier to refuse.
The lame and wounded soldier said stubbornly: "Brother, put me down. I still have one leg and can walk."
The middle-aged man looked forward: "The battle ahead must be very difficult."
The lame and wounded soldier burst into tears.
People, keep going.
Li Xiang stood on the side of the road, silent, watching everything.
Watching this scene unfold in the vast northwest land.
Further north, the army of millions of monsters moved southward much faster than these people.
The northwest section of the Sixth Line of Defense has collapsed, and there are less than 400,000 people still resisting on the front line.
What they have to face is a ferocious army of one million monsters.
They fought for ten days with their blood and lives.
But this is totally not enough.
The large-scale migration of 40 million people will take more time.
Li Xiang turned his head and looked at the rapidly approaching demonic energy.
Behind him, hundreds of engineering vehicles and transport vehicles suddenly evacuated from the huge Mausoleum of the First Emperor.
The motorcade left Qin Shihuang's Mausoleum and came to the roadside.
The director of the Chang'an History Museum who led the group shouted: "Get all the cultural relics out of the car!"
The archaeological expert was shocked: "Director, the cultural relics that were finally rescued are the treasures of Kyushu civilization!"
The curator stared at him, "Civilization is created by people. Remember, these people behind us, these compatriots living on this land, they are the most important carriers of civilization.
!”
He looked at the Mausoleum of the First Emperor, less than a tenth of which had been excavated, and said, "I think if the ancestors of the ancient Qin Dynasty knew better, they would not want their descendants to be buried in the belly of monsters."
The curator gritted his teeth, turned around and ordered:
"Put down all the cultural relics and let children, the elderly, women, and patients get on the bus first. You can take as much as you can!"
The archaeological expert asked, "What about you, curator?"
"I……"
The curator looked at the soldiers, men and women, who were struggling on the road, "I'm with them."
He strode into the crowd.
Step into the rolling torrent of history.
Give civilization to the years.
Rather than giving time to civilization.
But at this moment.
Suddenly there was an exclamation from behind.
The curator turned around in confusion.
Then I saw a figure flying from the roadside and floating into the sky above the Mausoleum of the First Emperor.
Slowly spread your arms.
Time seems to have frozen.
The heavy rain between heaven and earth stopped falling and floated quietly in the air.
