chsdbacks Chapter 34 Buried in the Green Hills, Not in Name
Chapter 34 Buried in the Green Hills, Not in Name
"Thanks......"
Lin Yan reached out to support him and stuffed the bags of dry food that she had taken from the man in black into his hands.
"Go south, and don't look back."
The old man's cloudy eyes reddened.
That evening, Lin Yan sat under a dead old locust tree by the roadside, reading through the contents of the second level of the True Qi Realm of the "Wandering Body Palm".
Zhao Yuanlang's wound medicine is indeed effective.
The fracture in my ribs has stabilized, and I can raise my arm. When I breathe, I only feel a slight, dull pain.
He has basically mastered the first level of the Swimming Step and its accompanying palm techniques.
【Swimming Body Palm (Beginner) (50/500)】
When it really started fighting, he switched back and forth between the Swift Step and the Dust Step, and even he himself felt that the path under his feet was becoming more and more agile.
But he still couldn't reach the threshold of the True Qi Realm.
To date, Lin Yan still hasn't found a way to advance to the True Qi Realm.
The second layer of "You Shen Zhang" is written very clearly.
After mastering the body tempering technique, one must condense the blood and qi from a liquid state into a gaseous state to form true qi within the meridians.
This process requires a catalyst.
Without this opportunity, no matter how much you cultivate your Qi and blood, you won't be able to break through.
Seeing that the opportunity had not yet arrived, Lin Yan stopped insisting, closed the booklet, and leaned against the withered tree to sleep.
After that, Lin Yan traveled north for another two days.
The official road was completely cut off.
Before me stretched a continuous mountain range, with most of the trees cut down, leaving only bare stumps.
You can occasionally see human bones in the ditches by the roadside.
The further north you go, the more oppressive the atmosphere becomes.
Lin Yan stood atop a precipice, his gaze sweeping out over the mountains.
The scent of the mountains and forests wafted in from all directions.
Lin Yan sensed that there was a large group of people stationed three miles to the northwest.
Five miles to the north was a small group of Northern Barbarian scouts and cavalry, whose horses were taller than those of the Great Yan army.
There are people in the valley to the northeast.
Their breathing was very weak, and it was clear that several people were almost gone.
Most of these people were wounded soldiers who had escaped from the battlefield.
Lin Yan opened his eyes, staring blankly at the void ahead.
He thought about it for a moment, and finally headed northeast.
There are indeed people in the valley.
But they weren't defeated soldiers; they were a group of unnumbered laborers.
To be precise, it's more accurate to call them a "pile" than a "group".
Sixty or seventy people lay sprawled in the ravine, wearing uniforms made of tattered cloth of various colors.
It was called a uniform, but it was actually just pieces of cloth of different colors sewn together, with the words "mountain-shaped camp supplies" written on the back.
Mountain Camp.
The character "山" (mountain) on the black jade plaque popped into Lin Yan's mind.
These people were not soldiers; they were porters, mule drivers, and general laborers responsible for pulling the supply wagons.
Since a batch of soldiers had already died, they recruited another batch of refugees from the rear to fill the gap.
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An old soldier with completely white hair lay on a rock, his left leg so badly injured that the bone was exposed.
Even at this point, the veterans continued to sing.
They were singing military songs.
"Let our bones be buried in the green hills, but our names remain hidden."
A young porter sat on the ground nearby, his eyes vacant, and said:
"Stop singing, everyone's dead."
The old soldier ignored him and continued singing, barely a whisper: "A three-foot-long sword for peace..."
"I said stop singing!" The porter grabbed a rock and threw it at the old soldier's leg.
The veteran didn't even try to dodge.
Lin Yan walked into the mountain valley.
Sixty or seventy pairs of eyes turned around; some still had light in them, but most were just lifeless ashes.
"Who are you?" the young porter stared at him.
"Just passing by."
"Just passing by?"
He looked Lin Yan up and down, noticing the knife at his waist. "You...you're a martial artist? Why aren't you fighting? Where are the people from Liu Family Village?"
"He's dead."
"Dead?"
The man's mouth gaped open. "Who breached the checkpoint at Liu Family Village?"
"I."
The entire valley suddenly fell silent.
The old soldier suddenly stopped singing, turned his head, and looked at Lin Yan with his cloudy eyes: "Young man, what's your surname?"
"His surname is Lin."
The old soldier stared at him for a long time, then murmured, "Lin...can I see that tag you're wearing?"
Lin Yan remained silent for a moment, then took out the black jade tablet from his pocket.
When the veteran saw the character "mountain" on the jade plaque, his body suddenly trembled violently.
He used his uninjured hand to support himself against the rock, propping up his upper body.
"Whose is this?"
"A man named Gu Changshan."
These three words were like a knife stabbing into the veteran's heart. He froze on the stone.
"Gu Changshan? Say it again, what's your name?"
"Gu Changshan".
Lin Yan said, "He died at Black Wind Ridge. Before he died, he asked me to deliver this plaque to Qingzhou."
The veteran remained silent.
He just propped himself up like that, without moving.
The wrinkles on his face looked like they were carved with a knife.
After a long time, he covered his face with his good hand.
My shoulders started to tremble.
He squeezed out a low sound from his throat, like crying or laughing at the same time, which sent chills down one's spine.
"Gu Changshan, Gu Changshan...you're still alive...you fucking still alive..."
He looked up, tears streaming down his face.
"Twenty years. You haven't even sent a single letter!"
He suddenly choked up.
Because he suddenly remembered that Lin Yan had just said "before he died".
"Dead?"
"He's dead," Lin Yan said.
The veteran lowered his head.
Then he looked up and roared at the sky.
The roar echoed through the valley, startling a flock of crows.
He slowly slid down from the rock, sat down against another rock, and continued singing the song with slightly different lyrics:
"Green hills bury bones and names, burying names brings cleanliness..."
The young porter next to Lin Yan opened his mouth, leaned closer and whispered, "Don't be offended, he's been crazy for years, always talking about finding the commander of the Gu-character camp."
"He's not crazy," Lin Yan said.
The porter was taken aback.
Lin Yan did not leave that night.
He bandaged the wounded soldiers in the valley one by one and distributed the medicine he carried with him.
If there isn't enough medicine, give it to the most seriously injured first.
The old soldier sat on the rock and watched Lin Yan busy himself.
As dawn approached, the veteran suddenly spoke up: "Xiao Lin, are you going to the battlefield north of the mountain?"
"Um."
"Where are you going?"
"Evading pursuit."
Lin Yan said, "Let's also see if we can find a breakthrough opportunity on the battlefield."
The old soldier leaned slowly against the rock and said in a voice that could only be heard by two people:
"I'll tell you a few place names, remember them well. Qipanling, Tieguanya, Huifenggou. These are places where the Shanzi Camp fought back then. The terrain is good, making it easy to set up ambushes and hide people. If you go there now, you can still find traces of the sentries left behind back then."
Lin Yan memorized each of these place names.
"There's one more thing," the veteran said. "If you encounter any wounded soldiers abandoned on the battlefield... whether they're from the Great Yan or the Northern Barbarians, help them if you can."
He paused for a moment, then said, "Consider it paying off the debt for the Mountain Battalion."
Lin Yan stood up, packed his things, and slung his knife over his shoulder.
"I'm leaving."
The old soldier leaned back against the rock without answering. He began to sing again: "Green hills bury bones, but not names... A three-foot-long sword brings peace..."
Lin Yan walked out of the valley.
The song gradually faded from my ears.