The fiefdom increases by 1 soldier in 1 second, and the empress kneels down and begs not to rebel

Compared with Yan Cheng, who is tall and straight, with obvious barbarian characteristics, Wu Li is less than seven feet tall, and his hair is as white as snow, with no trace of black left.

Now in his seventies, he has nothing to do with Yan Dan and Green Man. Although he is less than seven feet tall, he had great ambitions when he was young. A few months ago, he was supposed to send away those tribesmen who were fighting in Beiliang. At that time, Wu Li was full of expectations, hoping to see the barbarians rise in power in his lifetime.

It was only when the bad news came that the army that had pinned the hope of the barbarians was defeated and no one survived, did he finally face the bloody reality in grief.

Those who died fought for the barbarians, and it was their fate to die on the battlefield. This is understandable. At other times, death can make people fearful and trembling, but in a war, death is like eating and drinking. It's just as simple, someone has to die, and a lot of them.

The dead have gone to sleep, and all their aspirations and ambitions have disappeared, and what is left?

It’s those who are alive, those hundreds of thousands who have lost their loved ones.

The dead have been freed and finally at peace, but the living have been pushed into a torture that is far more painful than death.

It snowed heavily last year, but this year the weather has been smooth at the beginning of spring. A few spring thunders and drizzles have fallen. The crops in the fields are in full bloom, the deer and rabbits are ripe in the mountains, and the shrimps and fish in the streams are waiting to be netted. This year's Nanman has experienced a change. Good start.

The cold and wind-swept winter has passed, and the warm spring has relieved some of the pain. Wu Li feels a lot of comfort. At least the deaths of hundreds of thousands of people have not plunged the living into immediate misery.

But if we are still obsessed with that battle, then this rare good year will undoubtedly turn into a disaster year.

Compared to the soldiers who died far away, he couldn't bear to see his young clan members die in front of him now. After all, they were around him. They might have been playing around him the day before, but he would have to watch them tomorrow. Are their cold bodies lying on the land cultivated by their ancestors for generations?

"Maybe he's getting older." He could only tell himself.

After being elected as the leader of the clan, he also understood his responsibilities more clearly.

The entire barbarian tribe, millions of people, no matter whether they were old or young, men, women, young or old, all their lives depended on him.

The heavy pressure made his already short body even shorter. He walked hunched over the Southern Barbarians, condolences to the families who had lost their relatives.

He saw too many faces, some with hatred for the enemy's cruelty and ruthlessness, and some with anger, anger as to why they sent troops to let their husbands and sons die in a foreign land thousands of miles away, without even leaving a body. Down.

But what is more sad is the adults lying on the bed and table crying unable to take care of themselves, and the tearful faces of the children hiding behind doors, in cupboards, and among haystacks.

"When will my father come back?"

As he gets older, Wu Li's memory has become much weaker, but he has heard this question so many times that it is now more like a brand that is engraved in his heart.

He couldn't give a cruel answer to this question, because every time he rubbed the heads of those who asked the question and said:

"When you grow up."

He really didn't want to answer this question anymore, and he really didn't want to see more people asking this question.

The pain was severe enough and alarming enough.

And now that he controls the entire barbarian tribe, the life and death of his people will all come from the decisions he makes.

Even if some people don't understand, even if some people still harbor resentment, as the clan leader, he still has to consider the entire barbarian clan and make the most appropriate choice.

Yan Cheng did not hesitate to die in order to fight. He could indeed be charged with a crime and cut off his head with a knife, and then use this to warn those warlike tribesmen not to do anything again.

But if he does this, sooner or later, the barbarians will make the same mistakes again and fall into painful reincarnations. For this reason, he must convince Yan Cheng.

At this moment, after roaring, Wu Li's chest heaved violently, breathing heavily as he looked at Yan Cheng.

Under the moonlight, Yan Cheng's face was as pale as frost.

He pursed his lips and his face twitched slightly. Looking at the timid faces, Yan Cheng did not dare to look at them.

He bent down and lowered his head, turning his face away. The anger in his eyes disappeared at this moment, leaving only the same confusion as in the eyes of those children.

"speak!"

"Aren't you going to fight?! Come on! I'll give you a chance!"

"You are the highest-ranking general in our barbarian tribe. Many young people regard you as a role model. If you go to fight, there will be people following you!"

"I won't stop you! You can leave tonight!"

Wu Li grabbed Yan Cheng's collar and said angrily:

"Go and gather them!"

"Call them out of their homes! Take your weapons and go to the battlefield to show your prowess and show your bravery!"

"I know you are not afraid of death, and you will make those who follow you not be afraid of death! Just fight to the end!"

By this time, Wu Li was out of breath. He was still old after all.

But then, he grabbed Yan Cheng's collar tightly and raised Yan Cheng's slumped head. Wu Li pointed at the children and scolded:

"You died in battle, but you turned into a handful of loess."

"But what about them?!"

"What will they do? Who will help them!?"

"If you want to go to war, then you might as well bring the families of those soldiers with you. It's better to die than to die cleanly! We can still be together under the circumstances!"

Yan Cheng said nothing, as if he had lost all his strength, and fell to his knees dejectedly.

The clan elders all looked sad and came up to persuade them:

"Clan leader, stop talking."

"General Yan, he...he..."

Wu Li turned a blind eye and instead shook Yan Cheng vigorously and shouted:

"The king died in Yanluo Mountain. I don't know what he was thinking before he died. Did he ever regret sending troops?"

"But I know that whether he sends troops or not, he is focusing on my entire barbarian tribe!"

"If he were here now, I believe he would never fight again! He would never let my barbarian tribe perish!"

"You go to the war, and when you die, you go and ask the king! Is it more important to avenge him, or to allow our tribe to continue?"

Wu Li was panting, and he let go of Yan Cheng's collar, tightly grasped the crutch in his hand, bent over and stood aside, breathing heavily, looking at him.

Yan Cheng sat on his knees on the ground, as if he had collapsed. His pale face was bloodless. He moved his lips, but could not utter a powerful word.

The surrounding clan elders fell into silence and stood silently by.

There was silence, except for the gentle blowing of the night wind and the beeping sound of firewood in the fire not far away.

But at this moment, a timid childish voice sounded:

"Grandpa Wu, did Uncle Yan make a mistake?"

"He is not a bad person... My cow was lost earlier, and he had someone find it for my mother... Don't be angry with him..."