When the sky was getting dark, the large army slowly came to a halt. There was no military camp, but only tents connected to each other. A bunch of bonfires burned in the tents, rendering the land as if
The stars are reflected.
But Zhu Qizhen really didn't have any consciousness of being a prisoner. He put his hands on his back and strolled around the camp in a relaxed mood. Ha Ming, the general manager of the Mongols, was very familiar with tending a bonfire. On the bonfire, there were firewood.
A crude shelf was erected with an iron pot placed on it. The water in the pot had begun to rise, and the meaty aroma of the mutton and mutton bones cut into large pieces in the pot began to emerge.
The surrounding soldiers were also holding bonfires, roasting or cooking food. Some even sang Mongolian tunes, desolate and distant tunes. With such a scene, if it weren't for the
Dozens of Waqi soldiers held the hilts of knives at their waists, and their vigilant and unkind eyes were staring at him, which might make veteran travel friend Zhu Qizhen feel like he had already set foot on the prairie.
As for Yuan Bin, he was standing behind Zhu Qizhen, warily looking at the Waqi soldiers around him, and continued to perform his duties as the guard of the Emperor of Heaven. The inside and outside of the camp was filled with the stench of animal feces.
Mixed with the aroma of barbecued beef and mutton, Yuan Bin, who was not used to the life of nomads, couldn't help but frown.
Seeing the change in Yuan Bin's expression, Zhu Qizhen thought that Yuan Bin was involved in the wound, so he couldn't help asking a few questions with concern. When he learned that he was feeling unwell because of the strange smell, Zhu Qizhen's expression couldn't help but become a little weird.
To be honest, I am used to this smell after living in a rented house all year round. The gutter oil that smokes all night downstairs mixed with the strange aroma of the burnt barbecue, as well as the ubiquitous and omnipresent smell during the day.
For Zhu Qizhen, who never smells car exhaust, the smell of decoration materials, and sandstorms that can take away one's appetite for days, this smell is really nothing, and it even reminds Zhu Qizhen of his childhood.
Zhu Qizhen was accustomed to living in his second uncle's house in the countryside. A strange yet familiar feeling of intimacy made Zhu Qizhen almost forget that he was in an enemy camp.
Am I too lacking in the sense of honor and disgrace of the Han nation and the sense of right and wrong among our enemies? Looking at the endless bonfires, listening to the alien tunes and laughter that come from time to time, and smelling the thick aroma of mutton soup, my mouth is filled with saliva.
Zhu Qizhen asked deeply after seeing the details.
"Your Majesty, don't go too far." At this time, Yuan Bin saw Zhu Qizhen strolling forward in ecstasy. The eyes of the Waci soldiers were all focused on Zhu Qizhen, and he quickly pulled away.
Zhu Qi Zhen, who was distracted, said:
"Oh, okay." Zhu Qizhen, who finally came to his senses, touched his nose awkwardly and gently advised Yuan Bin: "Actually, you don't have to be so nervous. You are not well yet. You should be in the camp at this time.
Rest is."
"Your Majesty, it is the responsibility and duty of a humble minister to serve the emperor. Now that we are in the enemy's camp, we cannot ignore it."
Seeing Yuan Bin's expression of being unwilling to compromise, Zhu Qizhen could only wave his hands in vain and continue to stroll outside the camp as a pre-meal exercise. As a senior gourmet, Zhu Qizhen knew that mutton is the most filling.
, therefore, it is best to move your body as much as possible before a meal, and not to be very full, at most seven to eight portions, so that the mutton can have room to expand in the stomach. In addition, you should exercise appropriately before and after the meal.
, so as not to bloat the stomach.
Look, this is a time-traveler who has no sense of right and wrong and no self-awareness of the captured emperor. If Yuan Bin can understand at this moment that the majesty he is guarding actually has such absurd thoughts and ideas in his head, I wonder if he will
He vomited three liters of blood and pulled out a straw rope to end his life.
Fortunately, a certain captured king who was so idle waiting for dinner finally remembered something serious. "By the way, how many captives are there in the camp?"
"I'm afraid there are four to five thousand. Those who were seriously injured were either abandoned where they were, or..." Yuan Bin's voice sounded a little gloomy. After hearing this, Zhu Qizhen felt equally uncomfortable. "
All this is my fault..." He has become Ming Yingzong. Naturally, he can only bear the blame for this. But when he admitted it in front of others, Zhu Qizhen still felt a little weird in his heart.
Yes. Your sister, what do you think this is? Are you loyal to yourself?
"Your Majesty, please don't say that. The defeat of Tumubao was really Wang Zhenzhi's fault." Yuan Bin was afraid that Zhu Qizhen would not think about it, so he quickly explained to Zhu Qizhen.
After hearing this, Zhu Qizhen, who was still a little guilty at first, also felt that it made sense. He nodded repeatedly, showing a sympathetic attitude towards the enemy. Yes, if it hadn't been for this bastard's fooling around, I might have been able to do this.
Still hugging each other in the capital, eating and drinking, doing the Great Leap Forward in Ming Dynasty's feudal society, fulfilling the responsibilities of a time traveler, and planting cloth and other things.
Just when Zhu Qi Zhen was thinking wildly, he saw a group of men and horses approaching not far away. The leader was a Mongolian nobleman or general wearing a brocade robe and iron armor. He came very close and reined in Zhu Qi's horse.
A few steps in front of Zhen Zhen, the riding whip in his hand was dangling, and he looked rudely up and down at Zhu Qizhen.
Yuan Bin had already stopped in front of Zhu Qizhen, glaring at the group of knights with unyielding eyes.
The Mongolian nobleman with sinister eyes smiled coldly and asked lazily in stiff Chinese: "You are the emperor of the southerners." Although his accent was not accurate, the people present still understood his question clearly.
talk.
Nanren is a disparaging term for the Han people in the Yuan Dynasty. It is the fourth of the four classes of people classified in the Yuan Dynasty. The Han people under the rule of the Southern Song Dynasty and the local ethnic minority people generally refer to the Southern Song Dynasty people south of the Huaihe River.
People. In the Yuan Dynasty, they had the lowest status and were the most oppressed and discriminated against. After hearing this insulting name, the Waqi cavalry who followed it couldn't help but laugh wildly.
Everyone under Zhu Qizhen looked at him angrily. Although Ha Ming was a Mongolian, he had lived in the capital for two generations and held the position of general secretary. He often read and read natural texts and classics, and he could be regarded as a heirloom of poems and books.
I have long regarded myself as a Ming Dynasty person.
Yuan Bin's face was as dark as iron, his hands were clenched, and his eyes were about to burst into flames. If the emperor hadn't had no one around him, he would have killed this beast on the spot even if he risked his life!
"Which wild dog is barking really unpleasantly?" A lazy, quiet and peaceful word came out of the mouth of Zhu Qizhen, who had been silent...