Pubang's book series 1 "The night of hunting games" sale on Amazon
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The two in the same boat did not trust the other refugees, so they followed at a distance, cautious and wary. The refugees had traveled for a long time, covering great distances, enduring countless hardships and dangers. They were hungry, thirsty, cold, exhausted, injured, sick, and dying. The only thing keeping them going was a belief: once they reached the Han border, they would find safety and aid, rebuild their lives, and regain hope.
As the refugees began to shout and run toward the castle on the horizon, Little Hong also grew excited."We don't have to fear the Scorpion Tribe anymore. Once we cross the checkpoint, we'll be safe!" Mo Wen hesitated, and the two of them hid behind a dirt mound, watching from afar.
These refugees had traveled for a long time, covering great distances, enduring countless hardships and dangers. They were hungry, thirsty, cold, exhausted, injured, sick, and dying. The only thing keeping them going was a belief: once they reached the Han border, they would find safety and aid, rebuild their lives, and regain hope.
When they finally saw the checkpoint from a distance, a surge of excitement overwhelmed them. They felt they had finally reached their destination, that they could finally end this painful journey and start anew. They quickened their pace toward the checkpoint, their eyes full of hope, their mouths expressing gratitude, and their hearts praying for blessings. Some even cried tears of joy, their tears filled with the meanings of happiness, relief, and rebirth.
However, what awaited them was not an open gate but tightly closed doors. Many refugees who had arrived earlier were already gathered in front of the gate. They saw the Han soldiers on the wall, their eyes indifferent, their expressions cold, their attitudes detached.
Suddenly, the sound of urgent hoofbeats echoed from the distance, and the ground began to tremble slightly. Mo Wen and Little Hong immediately became alert, their eyes fixed on the direction of the sound. Moments later, a few Scorpion Tribe cavalry scouts appeared on the horizon. The Scorpion Tribe men looked ferocious, their faces bearing the unique features of the people of the plains: high cheekbones, deep-set eyes, and hawk-like noses. Their skin were dark, and their eyes were sharp and cold, as if they could pierce through a person's soul.
They were clad in heavy leather armor adorned with iron plates, both flexible and protective. They wore pointed leather hats, the brims studded with iron nails, making them look fierce and terrifying. Each cavalryman had a shortbow and quiver at his waist, a curved saber slung over his back, the scabbard intricately carved with ancient and mysterious patterns.
Two or three cavalrymen were like shepherd dogs herding hundreds of lambs, the refugees screaming and fleeing in panic. The cavalrymen weaved through the refugees, their swords flashing, blood splattering, and the screams of the dying filling the air. In the eyes of Mo Wen and Little Hong, the scene seemed to slow down, every swing of the blade, every scream, deeply etched into their minds.
Vulnerable people are often the first casualties in war. A woman clutching her child ran desperately, but one of the cavalrymen swooped down, his saber easily slicing through her back, blood spraying onto the ground, the child falling into a pool of blood, its cries drowned out by the approaching hoofbeats. An old man with a cane staggered forward, only to be directly knocked to the ground by another cavalryman, his body rolling several times on the ground, twitching uncontrollably.
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Little Hong clenched his fists tightly, his teeth grinding audibly. The painful memories of the past made his whole body tremble. But Mo Wen held him back, and the two of them retreated behind a rock, their eyes filled with pain."If we rush out now, we'll just be throwing our lives away."
Despite this, a fire of rage slowly burned within them. They were powerless to change the tragedy unfolding before them, but this sense of helplessness only made them more determined to survive and find a way to resist the Scorpion Tribe's brutality.
The soldiers ignored their cries, offered no response to their pleas, and did not open the gate. They stood there silently, like an unfeeling wall, separating the refugees from the world of the Han people.
The refugees did not understand, did not believe, and did not resign themselves to this fate. They asked why, begged for the gate to be opened, and wept for mercy. They said they were refugees, fellow Han people, in need of help, willing to pledge their loyalty, asking for nothing in return.
They used the most sincere language, the most plaintive voices, and the most humble postures to express their last hope to the Han soldiers at the checkpoint. Behind the battlements, Commander Zhang Ga coldly observed them, his eyes full of disdain and contempt.
Only when he saw the Scorpion Tribe retreating lazily, having taken too much with too few numbers, did he nod to an officer under his command. The subordinate officer walked away, well-practiced in this familiar task.
The gate of the fortress slowly opened, filling the refugees with hope. But the riders who charged out bore Han banners, wore Han armor, and wielded Han weapons, yet their actions were not of the Han people, quickly shattering the refugees' hopes.
They showed no regard for age, gender, or circumstance, left no room for mercy, and ruthlessly robbed the refugees of their belongings. They brutally beat and trampled anyone who resisted. They took their bags, their clothes, their food, their jewelry, their horses, and even abducted the young and able-bodied men and women.
They left behind no compassion, no reasoning, only a scene of wailing and despair. They left behind a group of helpless, hopeless, lifeless refugees. They left behind a chasm that could never be crossed, understood, or forgiven.
By dusk, a pair of cavalrymen approached from the distance, bearing the banner of Commander Zhang Ga.
The elderly, weak, sick, and injured among the refugees knelt before the horses, crying out in despair. On horseback was a fat man, none other than Commander Zhang Ga.
Upon hearing the refugees' plight, he was shocked, dismounted, and began cursing the soldiers while comforting the refugees with kind words.
When the refugees heard that the commander was going to stand up for them, they knelt down, kowtowing repeatedly, pleading for justice.
"Come, come, follow me into the city. Even if it costs me my life, I'll see justice done for the people!"
Hearing this, the refugees being robbed eagerly followed the commander into the city.
They entered the outer fortress, and beyond was the inner gate. The commander kindly urged the crowd to wait patiently there while he went inside to negotiate with the military, promising to recover the stolen goods and people.
As the inner gate swiftly closed, the refugees felt both nervous and hopeful.
Some began to look around; the high walls surrounded them, the outer fortress being the second line of defense in case of an enemy breach.
As the sound of a loud gong echoed, archers appeared on the surrounding walls. The refugees looked at each other in confusion, and then arrows rained down upon them. The outer fortress was soon filled with the sounds of screams and the splattering of blood.
Inside the border commander's mansion, a general happily reported to Commander Zhang Ga,"It's all been taken care of."
"Hmph, those troublemakers. Collecting their heads is a merit; those who can be converted to the plainsmen's hairstyle are military achievements. Those who can't, well, they're traitors and just as good."
"Understood."