The old things I repaired have become fine

Chapter 596 is gone, nothing is left, absolutely nothing...

"You can't kill me!"

"I am a nobleman! I am the young master of the Gewo tribe!"

"It was your emperor who invited us to help you fight the rebels!"

"Kill me, and your emperor will punish you! He will whip you and behead you!"

"I'll never come again! I'll never rob you again! Let me go back! If I die here, my mother and my sister will become slaves!"

"Spare your life! Spare your life!"

"what--"

A barrage of voice messages burst forth like a machine gun. From pride to threat, from threat to panic, from panic to pleading—

However, he still couldn't withstand a sharp blade that pierced straight into his chest and abdomen, ending the boy's life.

Shen Le looked down at the corpse in front of him. The face was dark yellow, with two patches of red on the cheeks, but the skin had not yet become rough, and the outline of the eyebrows and eyes still retained the childlike innocence of a boy.

His eyes were wide open, staring fixedly at the sky. In his clear, dark brown eyes lingered a deep sense of terror, pain, and bewilderment.

It was as if he couldn't believe that he had died like this, in a distant foreign land, in his youth before he could achieve anything.

"Ugh……"

Shen Le sighed softly and reached out to stroke the boy's eyes. Once, twice, those bulging eyes still refused to close, as if they couldn't accept the fact of their own death—

"Ah Li! What are you dawdling for!"

From afar, a comrade called out. A moment later, a soldier strode over, clicked his tongue, and bent down:

"A Tibetan barbarian, he's dead, so what! Who cares if he closes his eyes or not! Quickly loot the stuff and get out of here—this armor is nice, give me a hand and flip him over!"

Shen Le mechanically helped him with the tasks. He stripped off the armor, pulled off the helmet, and ripped off the belt. He was about to take off the boots when the captain, not far away, shouted:

"Stop dawdling! We still have to run to two beacon towers today! Don't pick up every piece of junk you see!"

Shen Le's comrade shook his head and straightened up. He tied his belt and helmet together, slung them over his back, and tossed the armor directly to Shen Le:
"This shoulder-shaped tortoise is quite good; it's perfect since yours was ruined before—"

As he spoke, he swiftly mounted his horse. Shen Le, carrying his armor, also leaped onto his own saddle, sighing inwardly.
So, is this how these Tibetan-style shoulder guards came to Anxi and became the equipment of the Anxi soldiers?

Even after becoming part of the armor of the Anxi soldiers, a strong sense of obsession still lingers within it:
How can we improve the lives of the people in the tribe?
How can we ensure they are well-fed and clothed, prevent children from dying young, and prevent elderly people from voluntarily heading to the desert when winter comes?

Unfortunately, in ancient times, when productivity was scarce and resources were limited, this question remained unanswered.

It wasn't until modern times, when cars could drive on the plateau and railways could reach it, that the productivity of the plains could benefit the snowy plateau on a large scale...

During the mid-Tang Dynasty, whether they were Tang people, Tibetans, Uyghurs, Turks, or Sogdians, they all had to struggle for their survival.

After patrolling the three beacon towers with the team and returning to their own encampment, Shen Le, or Ah Li, was rewarded for his service, and the armor officially became his.

Shen Le happily touched the armor, the pair of gleaming silver lion shoulder guards, and even carefully picked at the turquoise on them:

That's a beautiful turquoise!

It's much prettier than the pair of turquoise stones he restored in modern times, which had weathered the elements and been buried for thousands of years in cemeteries and garbage dumps!

The shoulder ornament is also excellent, with a vivid shape and smooth lines. Although it has oxidized and darkened a bit, its shape is much more natural than the shoulder ornament he restored under the guidance of his teachers and Master Lu.

Hurry up and memorize its shape so you can fix it when you get back!
However, after he finished celebrating, he looked back and saw that none of the soldiers who had been rewarded for their merits were happy.

As night fell, a group of people lit a campfire, huddled around it, and tore at dry biscuits with the soup from the earthenware pot, grumbling softly:
"There are fewer and fewer people at the outpost..."

Shen Le looked up through the fire. The firelight illuminated a dark yellow face, the skin as rough as sandpaper.

The notion that "when someone smiles, you can't see their face, only their snow-white teeth" is also untrue.

His teeth were crooked and yellowish-black, and he was even missing five or six of them.

Shen Le remembered that he and Ali had set off from Huaxian to come to support the four towns of Anxi. He was only thirty years old this year. However, with his weathered face, people would believe he was fifty.

"Yeah, our team was supposed to have ten people, but now there are only seven... They promised to fill the gaps, but I don't know when we'll get them..."

Shen Le quickly glanced around the fire. One, two, three, four, five, six—even he only had seven people.

The Central Plains did not send any more troops to reinforce them. After this batch of reinforcements, there were none left...

As for local manpower?
The population that the four garrisons of Anxi could support was shrinking, and there were even fewer Tang people. Even if all the men were transferred to the army, it would be a drop in the ocean.

Uyghurs, Sogdians, Turks—when the Tang Dynasty was at its zenith, they were loyal servants. But after the Tang Dynasty declined, border soldiers had to keep a close eye on them…

"I'm already fifty years old... I should have been able to be transferred home long ago, but I still haven't received any transfer orders..."

I don't even know if my wife is still alive... A few years ago, I received a letter from home saying that my second son had given me a grandson..."

Another white-haired veteran sighed softly. The firelight illuminated his face as he looked at him.

The military system of the Tang Dynasty was initially the Fubing system, in which soldiers from various regions were successively conscripted and rotated.

The garrison troops in each region, and the soldiers stationed along each frontier, could rotate back home after serving a few years of military service—but unfortunately, by the time of the An Lushan Rebellion, the Fubing system had completely collapsed…

"He joined the army at fifteen and returned home at eighty" is considered lucky, at least he can still go home.

Many more joined the army at fifteen, and then spent their entire lives on the frontier, never to return until their hair turned white as snow...

Shen Le sighed silently. The joy he had just felt upon receiving the shoulder armor vanished completely. He hugged his earthenware bowl tightly, scooped a spoonful of meat broth into it, dipped it in a dry biscuit, and then tore into it with great effort.
"Hmm—this is way too hard!"

Not only was it hard, but it also had a strong sour taste and was very coarse. Trying to swallow it even made my throat feel rough.

If Shen Le hadn't lacked the memory of the Tibetan warrior Wangdui and hadn't tasted those barley cakes and tsampa, he genuinely wouldn't have been able to eat them.
Even if it means going hungry, even if it means failing this illusion, I don't want to eat this awful stuff. I just want to get back to the real world and have a big meal!
But now, Shen Le could only struggle to fill his stomach. Then, clutching his long sword, he leaned against the pass of the beacon tower:
"Old Huang, you're injured today, you go to sleep first, I'll take your night watch—"

The night wind was biting. He tried to wrap himself tightly in the old sheepskin blanket, straining his ears to listen for any unusual noises around him.

Snowmelt from the Kunlun Mountains flows gently down the valleys and merges into the Hotan River;
The bushes rustled in the mountain wind, and every now and then, pebbles rolled along, making a rumbling sound. Far, far away, came the calls of birds and beasts.

Is it the call of the gazelle, the roar of the snow leopard, or perhaps the howl of the wolf pack gazing at the moon?
Shen Le was unfamiliar with these sounds. The border guards were very familiar with them and could recognize them by instinct, but to him, each sound was foreign.

He would prick up his ears at every sound:

How far away is that sound? In what direction is it?
Is it a sound from nature?

Or is it an enemy attack?
He stayed up all night, until dawn, but nothing happened. He silently thanked God and went to sleep.

After several nights of this shift, I gradually became exhausted. Listening to all sorts of sounds was like white noise, incredibly soothing...

"Zheng!!!"

A string snapped. Before Shen Le could react, a sharp pain shot through his chest. Opening his eyes, he saw a dark figure leaning over him, standing on top of him, pulling a steel knife from his chest…

We've been spotted...

Were they spotted by the Tibetans?

As a sentry on night watch, I failed in my duty and was killed before I could warn my comrades.

What about them? What will happen to them? Will the beacon towers fall? What about the cities below?

I……

Has he died again...?

Shen Le slowly opened his eyes. His body lurched forward and backward, swaying wildly, as the armor dragged him around, the armor plates rattling loudly.
"Okay, okay... I know I was careless... I didn't mean to..."

Shen Le helplessly stroked the armor, channeling a little heat into it to soothe it. The armor, however, jumped even more violently; not only did it jump, but its arm guards and skirt armor also rolled up, slapping him repeatedly.

Snapped!
Snapped!
Snapped!
Judging from this, it seems like she's angry, or perhaps she's condemning someone:
How could you be so useless?
How could they get killed the moment they went in?!
Shen Le was at his wits' end. He tried to calm it down for about fifteen minutes, but the armor still wouldn't quiet down, constantly twisting and turning. Finally, Shen Le removed his helmet and pulled open the armor:

"Give me another chance, and I'll try my best to beat the game—if you keep causing trouble, I'm ignoring you and refusing to fix you! I'll just leave you like this forever!"

Miraculously, the armor settled down, hanging obediently on his hand, even curling around his arm. Shen Le sighed and touched it again:
"I'm not a soldier of the Tang Dynasty. I have no experience and I'm not vigilant. You have to let me improve slowly. Come on, shall we do it again?"

The helmet flew up on its own and landed on Shen Le's forehead: this time it was carefully turned to show his face.

Shen Le stretched his arms and legs, ate a little food to comfort the memory of his past self who could only eat coarse flatbread, and then fully armed himself, entered the illusion again:
"Halt! Halt! — Surrender and you will be spared!!!"

A successful battle, a successful kill, followed by a long patrol and guard duty. This time, Shen Le leaned against the mountain pass, focusing on his breathing and releasing his mental energy:

I refuse to believe that you can bypass my senses and get through here smoothly!

Day after day, night after night. Ten days, half a month, a month passed without incident, but Shen Le grew increasingly anxious:

When was the last time you "died"?
Are we almost there?

Judging from the weather here in Hotan, it should be peaceful in about a month, and the Tibetans shouldn't be coming down from the mountains anymore.

As for the Uyghurs and Turks, they are dealt with by the garrison in Khotan. They generally don't come to this remote mountain pass...

He patiently waited another half month, and finally sensed the unusual tension in the restrained energy. Shen Le listened carefully for a while, then quietly got up and went to wake his comrades one by one:
"They're here!—They're here!"

Seven people. One white-haired veteran, four strong middle-aged men, and two local boy soldiers from Khotan who had just enlisted last year, with a light fuzz on their upper lips:
They silently rose, donned their helmets and armor, gripped their scimitars, and prepared their bows and crossbows. Shen Le led the charge, hiding beneath the mountain pass, his right hand gripping a short knife used for slicing meat.

"puff!"

A dark figure leaped over the wall, landed, and rolled on the ground. Before he could get up, Shen Le pounced on him, embracing him with her left arm while her right hand plunged a short knife deep into his throat.
The dark figure struggled violently, thrashing about in Shen Le's arms like a fish out of water. Shen Le held him tightly with his left hand, while his right hand held a short knife horizontally.

click-

Oops!

This guy has armor on the side of his neck; if the dagger touches it, be careful not to break it!

A second dark figure rolled in. Shen Le didn't have time to fight the first guy, so he pushed him forward with all his might, took two steps back with the force, and picked up the spear.

Left foot in a lunge stance, right foot in a lunge stance, using all your strength to thrust forward:
Zheng!
A spark flew. The second enemy twisted and dodged, narrowly avoiding the spear's attack, and then swung his sword down with a backhand strike.

Shen Le withdrew his spear and retreated, engaging him in close combat. Soon, one dark figure after another flipped up from below and entered the outpost.

"Zheng!"

"Zheng!"

"clank!"

The bowstrings twanged incessantly. Inside the room, on the rooftop, Shen Le's comrades drew their bows and released arrows. Then, they lit the signal fires and charged down, swords drawn.

"Enemy attack!"

"Enemy attack!"

"Kill them!"

The Tang army was shouting, and the enemy army was shouting too. Shen Le, while thrusting his spear, wondered:
Why are these guys attacking the beacon tower so desperately?

If it were a small group, they could have quietly retreated, and the beacon tower's forces might not have pursued them—so why come up here?

Shouts, cries of alarm, and screams echoed continuously. Shen Le steadied himself, channeled his inner energy, and circulated his internal heat throughout his body as he fought his enemies.

"Go to hell!"

"Go to hell!"

"Get the hell away from me!"

"Get off!"

One force can overcome ten techniques. Every strike draws blood, every blow pierces bone. Yet the enemies seem endless, surging in wave after wave, screams echoing around me, comrades falling one after another:

"Go! Ah Li, go! Report to the general!"

He had fought for an unknown amount of time when suddenly the battlefield was empty; there were no enemies left. Shen Le braced himself with his sword, panting heavily, and looked around blankly.

No more.

They're all gone.

Of all the living people in the entire beacon tower, he was the only one left...

(End of this chapter)