The moon rose slowly, and the flowing moonlight illuminated the battlefield of death, indifferently illuminating the pools of solidified blood everywhere. Those who were stabbed by spears, chopped by swords, and killed by arrows
The dead warriors will rest here forever.
King Jin looked at the Lingqiu in front of him. It had become a dead city. His anger rose and he gritted his teeth. He must let them pay with blood. He must. For the king, what else can be better than
Is it more painful to lose the capital? Well, then, they will all pay the price for their decision.
The battle unfolded like this. What King Wei didn't expect was that he would be defeated. His defeat was not a final defeat, but that he did not defeat the invasion of the Three Kingdoms in one fell swoop as he thought. Instead, he was at a standstill with the Three Kingdoms.
The situation was in a stalemate. This delay lasted for more than a month, which made him feel irritable and anxious.
Zhan should not have underestimated the enemy, he should not have...all the inappropriateness is of no use. He made a miscalculation. He could not return home in time. He is the new king, and he cannot let his ministers think that he is incompetent.
He couldn't lose this battle. He couldn't. He wanted to calm down. He couldn't make the mistake of being impatient again.
King Chang was in the military tent. On such a dark night, he looked intently in the direction of the capital. The smoke was everywhere. Facing this desolate wilderness, he couldn't help but feel sad. Ling'er, how is she?
What? Is she still safe in Tang Gong's territory? She must have heard about his personal expedition. What does she think of him? Is she also worried about herself?
He sat down bored, and accidentally touched a touch of softness with his hand. He saw that it was the small sachet. The sachet was still pink and white, with a few timid and delicate little yellow flowers embroidered on it.
Son.
He sat down bored, and his hand accidentally touched a touch of softness. He saw that it was the small sachet. The sachet was still pink and white, with a few timid and delicate little yellow flowers embroidered on it.
Son.
It was just that after days of fighting, some of its color was accidentally washed away by wind and frost. It smelled like dust. He wiped it carefully. Only then did he notice that the small sachet was broken. Some of the incense threads and dried flowers were gone.
He came out. He remembered that during the battle the night before, he was almost shot by an enemy arrow. Maybe the sachet was broken at that time. He felt dark in his heart. He couldn't find Ling'er, that's all.
He also didn't protect the sachet that looked a little like her.
Xuan pulled the thread sadly, and wanted someone to fill it up again. He had never cared about what was in a woman's sachet. At this time, he became a little curious. Xiao Ling'er's
What does she put in the sachet? What does she like best?
Xuan carefully opened the sachet along the crack. Slowly pouring it out, there was a strand of fragrant silk thread and half a handful of dried flowers. The flowers were not precious flowers, but they were still pretty little yellow flowers. It seemed that Ling'er was really good.
He loved this wild basil flower very much. He shook the sachet bag and wanted to ask someone to pack it tomorrow. However, at this time, his eyes were suddenly attracted by the pink and white sachet bag.
There were actually some characters embroidered with red thread. He looked at them but didn't recognize the characters. It didn't look like they were from Zhongyuan. So this didn't belong to Ling'er, right? Ling'er was really just a slave girl from the Tang family.
, how could she write such words? Does the slave also know the words? He thought he should find someone to ask. At least he must know what is written on it?