Please pull the trigger for this world one more time.

at this time.

Mo Zian sat in the cleaned courtyard, munching on dry rations, watching several officers walk quickly towards him, and vaguely guessed that something was about to happen.

Gui Haishuo, who had been by Mo Zian's side, went to greet the officer as he arrived.

"Hello, I am the garrison commander of the Mu'nan Town Defense Corps. My surname is Chen."

The leading officer saluted the man first and said, "Many thanks to the righteous men for saving my Munan Town from disaster."

"So it's Colonel Chen. You flatter me."

The man clasped his hands in a martial arts salute: "My name is Gui Haishuo, and beside me is my wife, Fengye. May I ask what brings you gentlemen in such a hurry...?"

The colonel ignored Gui Haishuo at this moment because he immediately saw the rifle in Mo Zian's arms—in that instant, the colonel's heart sank.

A qualified soldier wouldn't give his weapon to a child, unless...

So the colonel apologized and strode over to Mo Zian.

"Kid, where did you get that rifle?" the colonel asked urgently.

"My godfather," Mo Zian replied quietly.

"Uncle Gan?"

Upon hearing Mo Zian's words, the colonel was visibly taken aback. Then, as if he suddenly remembered something, he took a few steps back and surveyed the entire wrecked courtyard.

"This is... the Mo Family Pharmacy?"

"Yes."

Another captain walked up to the colonel and said, "Do you remember, five years ago, Liu Xianzong contracted tuberculosis and had a persistent cough that eventually caused bleeding. The military doctors couldn't cure him, and he was getting weaker and weaker."

The colonel nodded: "I know about this. Later, it was the Mo family's pharmacy that prescribed the medicine. After two bottles, the cough stopped. And then they..."

"right."

The captain next to him continued, "The two got along better and better, and became sworn brothers. Not many people know about this; there are no more than ten in our company."

The colonel nodded upon hearing this, then fell silent. The captain next to him looked at Mo Zian and said, "Kid, come on, give me the rifle."

"No!"

Mo Zian frowned and hugged the pistol even tighter to his chest. "You're not allowed to take his things. Everyone else has already taken his body for burial. He and a few others are still lying in the house..."

Upon hearing this, the colonel's eyelids twitched, and he glanced at the person next to him with a slightly cold look.

"It was my negligence!"

The captain quickly bowed his head and said, "The ones cleaning up the battlefield are reinforcements from Muguan, and they haven't had time to search thoroughly yet... He and his entire second squad are gone, but you know, according to the rules, you can't be considered dead if you don't find any bodies..."

"This is clearly his weapon, don't you know?" the colonel asked, almost roaring.

The captain replied somewhat innocently, "Sir, everyone's weapons are the same! How come I..."

"You idiot! Have you ever seen a soldier hang a dragon-carved wooden figure on his rifle?! Look closely, what kind of material is this carving made of?! Soldiers might not know, but don't you?"

The captain froze on the spot, and silence fell around him once again.

"Master..."

Mo Zian tugged at Gui Haishuo's sleeve and whispered, "What happened to my godfather? Why did they come looking for him? And why were they arguing?"

Gui Haishuo squatted down next to Mo Zian and said softly, "Your uncle is probably not surnamed Liu, but Jiang. He should be a member of the royal family who secretly joined the army."

"Royalty?!" Mo Zian exclaimed in surprise.

Gui Haishuo nodded slightly: "That's right, our Guangwu has this tradition. Many royal family members will join the army for training, and they must use a false identity when joining the army. Their real identity is usually only known to a few people."

"Come on, Xiao Zian, be good and give the weapon back. It's military equipment; ordinary people like us can't have it."

Having served in the military in his previous life, how could Mo Zi'an not know that he couldn't keep this weapon? He was just a little resentful—

The people who came to clean up the battlefield simply put out the fire hastily, carried the bodies out of the yard, and then left.

Mo Zian understood that the battle had just ended and everything was in chaos, so it was impossible to thoroughly clean up the battlefield at this time.

But he was still indignant.

Now that he had achieved his goal, Mo Zian naturally and obediently handed the musket to Gui Haishuo.

Gui Haishuo held the gun barrel in both hands and handed it to the colonel in front of him.

"Click"

The crisp, smooth mechanical sound indicates that this rifle, with its handguard bearing the slight marks of age, is in excellent condition.

The colonel took the rifle, checked that there were no bullets in the chamber, and then gently stroked the string of numbers on the dust cover.

"Jiang Xianzong is the 90,851st member of the royal family to secretly enlist since the founding of the country by Emperor Guangwu. He served in the army for seven years and was awarded the Second Class Merit Citation and a Bronze Medal of Valor."

This old comrade's gun was one I personally gave him when he enlisted...

"Scholars and laborers wear the same robes," he understood this saying far more thoroughly than I did.

The colonel's tone carried a hint of indescribable sadness. He closed his eyes slightly, sighed softly, and untied the wooden carving.

"Baby, keep this and the bayonet. It'll be a keepsake. I've made the decision. Tell everyone it was a gift from him on his deathbed."

Mo Zian took the wood carving with both hands and then clenched it tightly in his palms.

After the colonel saw the child take the wooden carving, he slung the rifle over his back and called out to those behind him.

"adjutant!"

"have!"

"Arrange for someone to clear this place, collect the body, and then you draft the obituary, including all the compensation arrangements for the deceased. I need to see it this afternoon."

"yes!"

The colonel left with his men.

A short while later, a group of soldiers and several junior officers arrived, their bodies charred and covered in battle marks. Without saying a word, they first took buckets of water and extinguished the fire again. After confirming that there were no more burning areas, they began to silently clean up the ruins of the house.

You could tell they were tired, but they moved very quickly.

Before long, the ruins of the entire house were cleared, and several bodies, including the sergeant major's, were found.

Whether it was some unseen force protecting him or not, the sergeant's body was not extensively charred, but only blackened by smoke.

Several young-looking faces knelt around the body. One of them took out a clean towel with his charred hands, moistened it with water, and gently wiped the sergeant's face.

"Sir, you're saying the old squad leader... is really royalty? Why didn't he tell us?" one of them asked, his voice trembling with tears.

"If they told us, I would rather die than steal his wine."

The lieutenant beside him, wearing two bronze sickle badges on his collar, stood silently without answering.

He simply couldn't reconcile the senior staff officer who had been helping him in every way with the image of the long-haired, crowned royal he had in mind.

In his memory, this sergeant major always had a clean-cut buzz cut.

The same goes for these soldiers in front of us. It's the same old squad leader who beats them, protects them, teaches them how to fire a gun, carries them to the infirmary when they're injured, adds sandbags for them during training exercises, and occasionally takes them out for a sneaky drink.

It just doesn't fit the image of royalty as someone who is high and mighty.