The Mongolian soldiers behind saw the arrow hitting the horseman in front, but it failed to penetrate the dusty old sheepskin jacket and the bullet fell to the ground.

Angryly, he took out another arrow from his quiver. When he saw that it was a stone arrowhead, he screamed angrily. He simply pulled out the stone bone and hurriedly chased it forward.

As a result, before he could catch up, he was hit in the face by an infantry warrior with a slingshot from a wolf. He was so dizzy that his face was covered with blood. He couldn't see anything, so he turned his horse's head and ran back.

Seeing the Mongolian herdsmen behind him retreating, Basang breathed a long sigh of relief, but before he could breathe, the young master's horse was pierced in the butt by an arrow, and the mount suddenly raised its front hooves, knocking the young master over.

Go down.

Fortunately, Master Duoji was just thrown to pieces and struggled to get up. Basang had already dismounted, handed over the reins, and at the same time turned around and fired arrows at the chasing Mongols.

However, Master Duoji did not ride on his horse. He ran to the side and raised his hand to pull Mei Duo off the horse. He raised his whip and pointed at Basang: "You come with me!"

Basang has never spoken to the young master.

Only this time, Mei Duo was thrown to the ground, too stunned to dare to run or move.

Basang spoke and asked: "What should I do about Mei Duo?"

For a moment, the expression on Master Duoji’s face was extremely wonderful.

Basang was a familiar person, but an unfamiliar voice came out of this familiar mouth, which surprised him. He always thought Basang was mute.

"Two horses, do you live or does she live?"

Basang said: "She lives."

Master Duoji turned pale with anger. He raised Basang's mother's hand and whipped Basang hard: "You are not a mute Basang, you are a fucking fool Basang! Get on the horse!"

"The master wants to allocate me Duo to me." Basang was very stubborn and fired an arrow into the distance, but nothing hit. He said, "Young Master and Mei Duo will live together."

Master Duoji whipped Basang from the horse again: "When you go back, I will match you with someone else, get on the horse!"

The Mongolian horse soldiers were getting closer and closer, and several arrows fell from a distance. Basang was frightened by the whip of the horse. He turned around and threw the bow on the ground. He raised his hand and spanked the young master's horse twice hard on the buttocks.

As the horses galloped, Master Duoji's angry curses gradually faded away.

Basang threw Mei Duo on the horse, led the horse and ran quickly in the direction where the young master ran away.

There is still fighting around, and the Mongolian horse soldiers have gradually surrounded the village. The purpose of those people is not to kill people, but to loot the village that was interrupted and plundered.

Only a few people were chasing around on horseback.

Basang ran very fast, and he had a pair of legs that were as smooth as walking on the ground in the mountains. For some reason, during the desperate running process, a thought always flashed through his mind... What if his legs were made into a pair of tibia horns?

, must be louder than that smart tibia horn.

He once thought that he had escaped from the encirclement of the Mongolian soldiers.

But no, seven Mongolians rode in a circle around him. None of them shot arrows, they just watched from a distance.

Watch him run. Watch his saliva flow from the corner of his mouth. Watch him run into tears and his chest is about to explode.

The leader of the Mongols tilted his head and raised his whip, pointed at him and laughed: "This fan is a slave boy who had a dispute with his master because of a woman."

Finally, Basang couldn't run anymore. Like Mei Duo, the horse pole was tightly strangled around his neck. As far as he ran, he was dragged back.

Until Basang's hand protecting his neck was strangled with a horse rope and it was bleeding.

A Mongolian nobleman wearing a red hat and leather armor stepped on his head with sheepskin boots, looked down at him, showing his yellow teeth, took out a piece of something unknown from a small wooden bowl, and threw it into his mouth.
p>

Sweet and sour, refreshing.

Xie Erhu of Yongxiebu stepped on the slave cub with his soles, raised his eyes to look at the burning village, pinched a Xining pickled round root radish strip from the wooden bowl and put it into his mouth, chewing it crisply.
Chapter completed!