Big Moon Ballad

In a dark and greasy tent, an unkempt old slave was kneeling on the ground, cleaning a smelly stain.

Next to him, the Xirong nobleman who was drunk and vomited all over the floor was lying lazily with one foot on his spine.

"Old man, if you don't hurry up, I'm still waiting to go out to help the Zhai kings!"

The old slave was almost thrown face down in the vomit. He hunched his back and said nothing, endured the pain and packed all the stolen goods on the ground into his cloth. He hunched over and slowly moved out of the tent with the dirty things in his pocket.

"Old Xiami," the nobleman stared at the embarrassed back and sneered, "I have never straightened my back in my life. My hands and feet are so slow, I would have froze to death outside."

Freezing to death outside?

The old slave dragged his swollen legs from rheumatism and slowly moved to the stable outside the tent, holding on to the stakes where the horse was tied and panting. The kick just now caused him internal injuries, and he spit out a mouthful of black blood.

The blood quickly turned into ice on the ground.

A similarly unkempt horse slave was rolling grass in the stable. He moved slowly, his back was covered with whip marks, and his cloudy eyes were hidden under his wisps of hair. He was a slave that could be seen everywhere in the White Wolf King's Court.

Seeing the old slave holding on to the stake and vomiting blood outside, the old man slave just looked at him indifferently, as if the two of them didn't know each other at all.

The cold wind blew by, bringing with it the smell of blood and the sound of fighting, but neither of them was moved, as if they couldn't hear it.

For the White Wolf Royal Court, these are commonplace.

What slaves need to focus on is how to complete today's work without being frozen or beaten to death.

Living on the last breath, living in numbness.

The old slave stared at the frozen blood on the ground, his chapped lips moved, but in the end he said nothing.

He slowly straightened up, arched his back, and staggered towards another tent waiting for him to pack up.

The old horse slave in the stable was rolling grass with trembling hands without saying a word.

The old slave kept walking in the ice and snow, passing tents one after another.

There was a sound of abuse, and a thin slave was kicked out of the tent with a basin of dirty water.

In the corner on the right, a slave carrying a dung bucket slid up with a pop, and the filth was scattered.

In the gap of a tent, a bare-chested slave was kneeling on the ground, covered in sheepskin, with a pair of noble feet placed on his spine, using him as a footstool.

……

……

The old slave walked forward slowly, his eyes numb and indifferent as he passed everything he passed every day.

He walked around a corner and picked up a bucket placed in the corner. After lifting it up, he saw a slightly weird symbol painted on the ground under the bucket.

The old slave glanced twice, but his expression did not change at all. He continued to move forward with the bucket as if he had not seen it.

The other tent where he was going to work was just ahead.

The old slave wanted to speed up his pace, but as he was old and frail, his feet wobbled and he was about to fall to the ground.

At this time, his ears twitched, and he suddenly stopped, standing on the snow like an awl.

"what sound?"

The old slave carried the bucket and stared blankly at the distant sky.

Under the man's disheveled hair, there was a look of confusion and disbelief in his eyes.

"listen!"

It was a woman's voice.

Her voice was not loud enough, but it spread clearly throughout the White Wolf Royal Court and attracted everyone's attention.

This is an ability only possessed by heaven-level practitioners.

And she spoke in Chinese.

The old slave's eyes froze slightly.

Tianjie, from the Central Plains, female cultivator.

What's going on outside?

He slowly turned his head and glanced at the battlefield outside, then withdrew his gaze after a moment.

He is too old to do anything, and even if he is a heaven-level practitioner from the Central Plains, it will not change anything.

No one can change this world.

The old slave calmed down, picked up the bucket again, and walked forward.

At this time, the voice sounded in his ears.

"Long time no see, everyone, I am Young Commander Lin Baoyue."

"I'm back." With a plop, the bucket fell from the old man's hand.

The cold sewage splashed all over his body.

……

……

"Long time no see, everyone, I am Young Commander Lin Baoyue."

Zhao Guang stood on the frozen soil soaked in blood, staring blankly at the back of the woman in front of him.

Ying Baoyue jumped onto Baili Celing's horse, smiled slightly, and declared calmly.

With the power of true energy, her voice spread everywhere.

Zhao Guang didn't know how far her voice could travel. He had an illusion that Ying Baoyue's voice seemed to be heard throughout the continent.

I'm afraid that's what she planned.

She is announcing her return to the world.

"I wonder if anyone still remembers me," Ying Baoyue faced the vast grassland, her voice carried far away.

"I'm not dead, I'm back."

What does she want to do?

Even if he didn't experience that era personally, Zhao Guang knew that Shao Siming had many enemies, and once his identity was exposed, he would be hunted down. In addition, Ying Baoyue had just broken through to the heavenly realm and was still very weak, and Li Ji, Ji Jiashu and others were not around. It was too dangerous for her to be exposed so hastily.

Zhao Guang didn't understand, but Baili Celing did.

At the same time, there was one person in the White Wolf King's court who could understand.

"Young Master...is back?"

Beside a burning stable, Xie Liu took out the dagger inserted in the neck of a Western soldier and stared blankly at the place where the sound came from.

"Little Six."

The lame old man stood ten steps away from him, his mouth covered with blood. He had just bitten the throat of a Xirong soldier with his teeth.

At this time, he opened his mouth wide and stared blankly at Xie Liu, "Is there something wrong with my ears, lame? What did I hear?"

"You heard that right."

Xie Liu's eyes were also a little lost, "Your Majesty, you are back."

"How is this possible? Didn't the princess already..."

The lame old man couldn't speak anymore, his eyes were dull, "Could he be a liar?"

"When I was rescuing people outside, I did see a high-level female cultivator," Xie Liudao. "She looked about fifteen or sixteen years old and was breaking through to the heavenly realm."

"Fifteen or sixteen years old?" The lame old man opened his eyes wide, "Is it really..."

"I don't know," Xie Liu's voice trembled violently, "I didn't meet the princess a few times when we were at the Great Wall."

Shao Siming was the general of the Silver Chan Guards, not the Black Tiger Army. Many people in the Black Tiger Army had never dealt with Lin Baoyue directly.

But everyone knows that Lin Shubai and Lin Baoyue are inseparable.

Their relationship has been deep in blood for a long time, and no one can separate them.

If there is one person in this world who would turn to ashes to avenge Lin Shubai, it would be Lin Baoyue.

And now, that person says she's back.

Xie Liu's breathing became rapid, much more rapid than when he received the coded notification from the Black Tiger Twins.

The lame old man's expression also changed.

At this moment, sparse footsteps sounded behind the two people.

Xie Liu turned around and looked at the scene in front of him, unable to believe his eyes.

The lame old man was also stunned.

The two stood together, staring at the sparse crowd in front of them.

These are a group of crooked and ugly people.

A skinny man with a naked upper body covered with sheepskin, a dung slave with filth on his body, a beggar lying on the ground with his back broken, an old man carrying a bucket and clutching dirty cloth, a horse slave holding a guillotine with blood on his hands …

One by one, they walked out of the tent and appeared on the ice and snow.

It can be seen in conjunction with Chapter 498 of this volume: Obliteration