In the refugee camp, everyone lives and dies, and is unkempt, so naturally no one is willing to say anything. No matter how much friendship there is, there may be no one left at night.
At this time, Bai Mo was holding a wooden stick casually and standing inconspicuously in the middle of the crowd.
He was using the remaining spiritual thoughts to look back and forth for the jade pendant on his neck that belonged to his predecessor.
Because he discovered that this seemingly inconspicuous jade pendant actually had a little secret inside it.
Under the perception of spiritual thoughts, the four characters "Historical Text" appeared inside the jade pendant.
Not only that, the four words "Historical Text" were not written in Daochenjie script, but in the script of his previous life.
"What's going on with this historical text?"
Today, he is just a remnant of the soul of Mo Yang Immortal Lord. A large part of his memory has been lost. The word "historical text" is not in his memory.
Even he only knew that he, or Mo Yang Immortal Lord, was a time traveler, but it was as if he had been neatly erased, without any memory of that world.
If Bai Mo hadn't mastered such a complete language system from another world, he might have doubted the authenticity of his memory.
I have no memory of my past life, so I wonder if I am a real time traveler.
…
"Knife in hand, follow me! Kill the official dog!"
"Eat his mother! Wear his mother! Prince Ming will not accept food when he comes!"
"..."
The war was about to begin, and among the ranks of the rebels, some very simple and crude slogans rang out.
Although the slogan was simple and crude, it struck a chord in the hearts of many soldiers.
After all, except for a few careerists in the camp, those who can defect to the rebel army and many ordinary soldiers have some tragic past that they don't want to mention again.
Inciting hatred is also an effective way to boost morale.
"Come after me!"
"Kill one to get your money back, kill two to make a profit!"
"rush!"
The battle process was very lackluster.
Neither the rebels nor their enemies are brave enough to defeat a hundred.
There is no shortage of hatred, but the sallow complexion caused by long-term malnutrition and the weakness in fighting are the normal conditions of most people.
Of course, even on the official and military side, the situation is actually not much better than that of the peasant army.
It has been more than 200 years since the founding of Daqian, and many of the systems established at the time of the founding of the country have long since deteriorated to the point of corruption.
Not only are military pay chronically insufficient, but they also go through layers of deductions, and only one out of ten is left in the hands of ordinary soldiers.
Except for the loyal soldiers of each general, they can have enough food and meat to support their strength and practice their combat skills every day.
Ordinary soldiers other than private soldiers have small appetites and can barely make ends meet on a daily basis. Those with larger appetites may have to go to the fields to do some farm work during non-war times in order to have a full meal.
Some of them were even forcibly drafted into the army, and they were civilians who only received simple training to make up the numbers.
It has some similarities with the refugee cannon fodder camp on the rebel side.
…
"How long has it been since I took a weapon to kill someone?" Holding a sharpened branch, Bai Mo stabbed it a few times based on his feeling during the melee. It should have penetrated something similar to a muscle.
But when he wanted to kill and go deeper, a voice would always come out in his mind and say: "People are precious, don't kill."
It was this voice that allowed him to retain seven percent of his strength in every attack.
It seemed to be the voice of his previous life after another.
Bai Mo has no memory of that life.
Because the remnant soul that escaped did not record anything about that life at all.
…
After the not fierce battle, Bai Mo returned to the refugee camp. There were some new faces in the camp, but some old faces were missing.
In the bad competition, the rebels barely won.
However, such an encirclement and suppression battle will happen every ten and a half months.
But in the end, they won a victory. By picking up the baggage left by the officers and soldiers, the refugee camp was able to have a rare meal that looked like human food - rice mixed with a lot of chaff and sand.
Call it a bang crispy one.
As for the soldiers of the rebel army, each of them was given a few taels of bad wine that was as thin as water, and some barbecued meat that they didn't know what kind of animal it came from. When they got it, it was already a little cold and hard, and they were in their own camp.
Drinking and partying.
In such troubled times, they will die at any time and can only enjoy themselves in time.
…
After the carnival, the camp gradually returned to calm.
The old man who walked into the homeless camp surrounded by a group of soldiers last time walked in again surrounded by a group of soldiers this time.
"This, this... and these two, come with me."
The old man glanced at everyone and clicked on a few young people who looked relatively young.
"The noble man has his life, why don't you guys come out quickly?" the leading soldier lightly kicked the boy closest to him who was clicked and shouted.
This time, the military man did not call them untouchables, because these young men seemed to be attracted by Master Na Mo, so he had better be careful what he said.
Among the people who were pointed out, there was Bai Mo.
Bai Mo took a look and found that the people he had picked out were all young men in trouble who were relatively strong and had eyes that were a little brighter than other walking dead.
"I have observed your performance today. You are all people who can barely participate in the entrance examination of the outer sect of Qixuan Sect. I will give you a chance now. If you don't want to go, you can leave now."
The old man said with a smile.
There was silence.
No one wants to try it. Leaving now refers to leaving here or leaving this world.
"Okay! Xiao Qi, take them to clean up. We will go back to the main hall tomorrow."
"Everyone come with me..."
"Master, I...I also have a young...brother. If I leave, he will definitely not survive. I want to ask you to let me take him with me."
When several people were about to turn around and leave, a young man in ragged clothes suddenly knelt on his knees and begged.
"Take it with you." The old man said without much thought and left without thinking.
The kneeling young man kowtowed several times to the old man in Taoist robes, then jumped up from the ground with his hands on his hands, and flew back to the private camp to pick up the person happily.
"Qixuanmen... seems to exist in the memory of its predecessor. It seems to be an organization in Taizhou."
While Bai Mo was following the guard named Xiao Qi, he thought about this impressive name.
He is integrating the memories of his predecessor and bridging the contradiction between the two values.
From the perspective of its predecessor, the Qixuan Sect was a behemoth that dominated the area nearby. It had many innate masters and was the one that the family wanted to look up to.
Even his own father would greet an outer deacon of the Qixuan Sect respectfully when he saw him.
However, from the perspective of Dao Zun's memory, whether it is the Seven Mysterious Sects or the Eight Mysterious Sects with innate masters in charge, or the Yuanying sect's Divine Transformation Sect, they are all organizations of a group of little ants, and there is no need to pay attention to them at all.
Those are two completely different impressions, and it seems a bit awkward to mix them together.