In autumn, the seventh year of Xuanhe, outside Yanmen Pass.
The early wind blew the yellow sand across the endless tents. The big flag with the word "Song" in front of the camp gate was blown loudly, and several ferocious holes had been torn open by arrows at the corners. The smell of blood mixed with the smell of horse manure filled the air, and the wails of wounded soldiers came one after another, occasionally mixed with the general's curses and the roars of the orderlies.
"Damn it! These golden dogs are here to attack again! Stand up for me!"
The roar outside the tent made the cowhide tent tremble slightly. Inside the tent, Xiaren opened his eyes suddenly, his chest heaved violently, and his forehead was covered with cold sweat. What he saw was a dim oil lamp, and the dancing flames made the shadows grow long. Under him was a hard wooden bed, covered with a thin layer of hay, which hurt the skin.
"Hiss——"
He tried to push himself up to sit up, but the wound on his back was involved, and he gasped in pain.
This is not his body.
Xiaren, a retired soldier of a special forces unit in the 21st century, majored in psychology and strategy. An accident occurred during a training exercise, and he woke up in this hellish place. The original owner, also named Xiaren, was an ordinary infantryman in the Imperial Army of the Song Dynasty. In the encounter with the Jin soldiers yesterday, he was shot in the back by a stray arrow. He fainted and died. When he woke up, his core was changed.
