The setting sun had already sunk halfway into the clouds, like a huge clot of blood frozen in the sky.
The bloody sunlight fell on the battlefield outside this lonely city, casting long shadows on the shoulders of the old soldiers.
This isolated army was cleaning up the battlefield, preparing the bodies, and the old general intended to take Qiao Mu and two others into the city. However, when they reached the city gate, their footsteps suddenly stopped.
"Sir, let’s not rush into the city. Before entering, I have some words I would like to say… This is not the place to talk. Please follow me," the old general turned around.
Since he asked Qiao Mu those two questions, he started to think deeply and made a decision at this moment.
The other soldiers also stopped their steps and sensed something unusual in the atmosphere. They discreetly glanced at the old general and quietly gathered around.
They didn’t know what the old general was thinking, but they thought that he had noticed something suspicious about Qiao Mu and didn’t want them to enter the city.
However, the old general shook his head slightly at them and turned to Qiao Mu, saying:
"In this lonely city, there are only three hundred old soldiers left, as well as women and children who cannot go to the battlefield…"
"Nowadays, the city wall only serves to resist the sandstorms…"
As they walked around the corner of the city wall, their vision suddenly widened.
The view that appeared before Qiao Mu was a vast desert full of tombstones, tightly packed like a forest.
Outside Anxi Pass, there are a hundred thousand tombstones, but they are just empty graves. Underneath this solitary city in the desert, there are also a hundred thousand tombstones, but they bury the remains of soldiers.
"Forty years ago, there were a hundred thousand soldiers, but now only three hundred old soldiers remain."
The old general’s eyes dimmed slightly and he bowed to Qiao Mu.
"My name is Hai Siyuan, the Sixth-ranked Captain of Great Yan."
"Qiao Shuangsen," Qiao Mu also introduced himself, but then a thought arose in his mind.
"Captain Hai, have you heard of Minister of Rites Hai Wuya from Great Yan?"
Hai Siyuan’s hands trembled slightly as he looked into Qiao Mu’s eyes.
"Hai Wuya is my father’s name… Is my father still alive?"
"Still alive, and now serving as the current Minister of Rites, I… my several younger family members have also received Hai Wuya’s care." Qiao Mu didn’t mention that Hai Wuya had just been released from heavenly prison, and continued:
"Not only that, but I also encountered someone outside this vast desert who claims to be Hai Wuya’s son, who should be your younger brother…"
Hai Siyuan’s lips trembled a bit, as if he had a lot to say and ask, but in the end, he just slightly turned his head and looked at the dense tombstones below the city wall.
His white hair flew up with the yellow sand, and his figure appeared somewhat lonely.
If Hai Wuya is still alive, he must be close to eighty years old now, right?
Seventy years of life is rare in ancient times. It is indeed a cause for celebration that his father can live to such an old age.
Even his younger brother at home still misses his existence, which is truly unexpected.
It’s just that in this current situation, it’s difficult for him to feel any joy.
He enlisted in the military at the age of twenty, but hasn’t returned at the age of sixty.
When he went to war, he was still a young and handsome man, but now he is old and looks even older than his middle-aged father in my memory.
"Even though he is the Minister of Rites’ son, why is he only a Captain ranked sixth? Are there still other higher-ranking officers in the city?"
It wasn’t Qiao Mu who asked the question, but the storyteller Clairvoyance standing next to him.
"They are all lying here."
"A Sixth-ranked Captain is already the highest ranking officer in this isolated city."
Clairvoyance was clearly taken aback, and asked again:
"Is General Li Changge still with us?"
Among the military officials of the Great Yan Imperial Court, Li Changge was a prominent figure. In the past, among the 100,000 elite soldiers, he was second only to the Martial Saint.
With the Martial Saint gone, Li Changge should be the leader of this isolated army.
Hai Siyuan didn’t say anything, he simply took a few steps forward and halted in front of a tombstone.
"General Li led us in resistance for twenty years… but he’s also dead, died twenty years ago."
This tombstone was no different from the others, just positioned slightly forward. If it weren’t for Hai Siyuan’s guidance, Clairvoyance wouldn’t have been able to notice it.
Twenty years… Qiao Mu’s gaze flickered slightly.
The establishment of Anxi Pass also dates back twenty years.
Judging by the timeline, it was precisely when Madame Bai, the guardian of the pass, appeared at Anxi Pass.
This doesn’t seem like a coincidence.
The original "Spiritual Technique," which means the connection of hearts, was a secret method to guide the Li Changge couple in telepathy.
Perhaps it was this "Spiritual Technique" that made Madame Bai know that Li Changge was still alive, so she arrived at Anxi Pass.
"Spiritual Technique" is a mysterious intuition. The mind can reach across the Hundred-mile Desert and the Immortal Road Array through telepathy, but the physical body cannot gather together due to this array.
And Li Changge’s death… could it also be related to this "Spiritual Technique"?
"You have suffered too much," Storyteller Clairvoyance sighed slightly.
"And your enemies are not flesh and blood, nor any foreign barbarians, but the ‘paper man’ of cultivators."
"Paper man, without blood or tears. Even if the paper man is crushed to pieces, as long as the cultivator’s magic power recovers, they can come back again."
"You have fought bravely until now, which is indeed admirable, but what have you gained in return?"
The words deeply touched Hai Siyuan and the others, causing much sadness in their hearts.
If their enemies were just ordinary foreign barbarians, it would be fine.
As elite soldiers of Great Yan, they were braver than ordinary soldiers.
If they killed the foreign barbarians, even if it was a one-for-one exchange, it wouldn’t be too much of a loss. Killing two would break even, killing five or ten would be even better, and even if they died, they would still make a profit.
However, this group of soldiers was not ordinary frontier guards. The enemies they faced were far more terrifying than the barbarians of enemy countries. They were cultivators, who had no blood, tears, or feelings in their paper man bodies.
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