The carriage was made of exquisite materials and beautifully decorated. When the door was opened, a corpse fell out. The head was hit by a musket, and the head exploded. The brains were sprayed on the roof of the carriage and on the armor of the corpse. It was really shocking. Yuan Feng paid attention.
The short bow in the hands of the corpse was extremely exquisite and was definitely not something that ordinary soldiers could equip.
The old man closed his eyes slightly, breathing heavily, there was a gong sound in his lungs, and his face was even more ugly. On the white turban, an emerald green gem shone brightly, with a beautiful peacock feather stuck on it. The robe on the old man's body
It is also very exquisite, with blue silk, gold embroidered patterns, pure gold buttons, and a scimitar inlaid with gems hanging on the waist. Just looking at the scabbard is priceless.
The old man seemed to be unconscious. Yuan Feng looked at his legs specifically, then turned around and asked, "Have you found out your identity?"
"Back to the commander, the prisoners said that this man is their imam and he is seriously ill and is about to die. Please let them go."
"Imam, is there any imam dressed like this? He can't tell lies."
"I'll try them again." Wu Dongqing turned around and walked towards the prisoners.
"No need, Captain Wu, you caught a big fish this time, and this person is Lame Timur." Yuan Feng said calmly.
"What!" Wu Dongqing's eyes widened and he couldn't believe his ears. The Lancers were even more stunned. Who could have imagined that the founding monarch of the Timur Empire and the great Khan who conquered thousands of miles of mountains and rivers would be defeated by such a team?
Ordinary Lancer prisoner.
At this time, a call came from the carriage, and the prisoner who was kneeling on the ground immediately wanted to get up to serve him, but was forced by the lancers with muskets. Yuan Feng walked over with Wang Jinbiao and Wu Dongqing, and saw that the old man had woken up.
What is said in Turkic language.
"He wants to drink water." Wang Jinbiao translated.
"Give him water." Yuan Feng said.
Wu Dongqing rummaged around in the carriage and found a gold kettle. He opened the lid and saw fragrant milk tea inside. He put the slender spout into the old man's mouth, and the old man drank with difficulty for a while.
, finally took a breath, opened his eyes and slowly glanced at the three people dressed as Xiliang soldiers in front of him, but there was no fear in his eyes. He said in a weak but extremely clear voice: "I am Timur."
Yuan Feng looked at his prisoner, without showing any shock or confusion, and calmly replied: "I am Yuan Feng, the defender of Liangzhou, and now you are my prisoner."
Timur smiled softly: "You are the newly minted King of Liangzhou? You are a formidable young man. Seeing you reminds me of when I was young. Young man, let's have a cup of tea with an old man who is about to go to see Allah.
"
In the desolate Gobi, the night is as cool as water, and the bonfire is burning brightly. Next to the lonely carriage, there is a Persian blanket on the ground. The two of them sit cross-legged, with a low table in the middle, and a pot of milk tea on the table.
A gold cup.
The sky is filled with stars, the moon is like a hook, and there are dozens of corpses lying on the ground in the distance. A dozen prisoners are squatting on the side with their heads in their hands. The lancers are looking around vigilantly on their war horses. The temperature difference in the weather in the Western Region is particularly large, and the war horses have mouths.
There were puffs of white gas coming out of the sword, and Wang Jinbiao and Wu Dongqing stood far away with their hands on the handles of their swords, not daring to disturb the conversation between the commander and Timur.
Yuan Feng knew some Turkic language, and Timur knew some Chinese. Communication between the two was not a problem. Across the small table, a Turkic Khan and a Han prince talked like the most cordial friends.
"Today's scene reminds me of the time I was in Persia with my cousin Hussein thirty years ago. At that time, I was a young man who was fearless just like you. I was forced to go into exile just because I offended the people in power.
I was bullied in Persia and even had a broken leg. If it weren't for Hussein, I might have died in Polis. Later, after going through all kinds of hardships, we finally returned to Samarkand and defeated the enemy.
, established a country. After another ten years, I fought back to Persia and conquered this country. Life is like this, ups and downs, erratic, all of which are arranged by Almighty God."
"Indeed, who could have imagined that Timur Khan would eventually fall in the east. All this is destined. As the saying goes, prosperity must inevitably decline. This is an eternal truth." Yuan Feng said.
Timur said: "I am old and sick, but my empire has not aged. It is still full of vitality. It is too early to talk about winning or losing."
"You are wrong. Your era has passed. Although your empire is young, it is already riddled with holes and vulnerable. The future does not belong to you after all!"
Timur smiled, "Who knows the future? Young man, can you do me a favor?"
"What?"
Timur stood up with difficulty: "Death in battle is the best destination for Timur. Young man, pull out your sword and come and fight me."
Then, Timur slowly pulled out the scimitar from his waist. The blade shone coldly in the moonlight, and the patterns were intricate. At first glance, it was clear that it was an extremely valuable sword.
Seeing Timur draw his sword, Wang Jinbiao and Wu Dongqing were about to rush over. Yuan Feng stretched out a palm to stop them, faced Timur, and pulled out his saber solemnly.
"By the way, what happened to your cousin Hussein who accompanied you in suffering in Persia?" Yuan Feng suddenly asked a strange question.
"Later Hussein became my enemy and was killed by me." Timur said.
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Silence, long silence. Although he is a dying old man, the pressure he brings is still breathless. Like an old lion, he still exudes majesty in the face of a powerful enemy. He is an era
The king, but he only belongs to his era, nothing more.
Timur staggered forward, and Yuan Feng also came forward to meet him. The two of them crossed each other, and then stood back to back. The wind was blowing, and the bonfire flickered. Timur's tall body swayed, and finally
Fell down.
An empire fell.
The earth is so generous, and lying on it makes people feel so at ease. At this moment, Timur seemed to have returned to his youth, to Samarkand, to Damascus, to the banks of the Indus River, the Eurades River, and the Caucasus.
Grassland, the blue seaside of the Persian Gulf...
The night was like water, the wind stopped, everyone stood silently, they were all witnesses of history, the life of a great emperor ended under their watch...
"Bury Timur here, and write on the stone tablet "Timur died here during the Eastern Campaign." After Yuan Feng finished speaking, he turned and left.
In the tenth year of the Great Zhou Dynasty, 1405 AD, the monarch of the Timur Empire died in Yangguan, southwest of Dunhuang, and was buried here.