(I went to prepare some medicinal wine again in the morning. It’s winter, and it’s freezing at 11 or 2 o’clock. I’d like to drink some to warm my body. Please give me your recommendation votes to warm your heart.)

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Dust falls to the ground.

Perhaps Zhao Futu's gesture of killing the county captain was too brutal and domineering, so the Yellow Turbans and the country soldiers who were fighting couldn't help but stop. Some of the Yellow Turbans stared blankly at Zhao Futu, who was standing on the battlefield.

Their eyes were filled with enthusiasm, admiration and deep awe. They involuntarily abandoned their opponents and rushed towards the middle of the battlefield, firmly protecting the seriously injured Zhao Futu.

"Zhonghuang Taiyi!"

The yellow scarf warrior was the first to rush to Zhao Futu's side. He supported Zhao Futu, who was on the verge of collapse, and then took out a special yellow talisman from his body. He held the yellow talisman between his two fingers and unfolded it, shaking it with the wind.

After reciting a few words in a low voice, the yellow talisman spontaneously ignited without fire. He pulled out the water skin bag and stuffed the yellow talisman into it, and then directly poured it into Zhao Futu's mouth one by one.

At this time, the yellow scarf warrior in front of him showed some respect for Zhao Futu.

………………

"Contractor No. 1013 drank the talisman water - the Celestial Master Talisman (healing), which restored 30 points of health, cured minor injuries, and cured some diseases..."

This talisman water seemed to inject a bit of power into Zhao Futu, and his eyes suddenly brightened a little. Then he sat up straight, took out a steaming bun from somewhere on his body, and then stuffed it in three mouthfuls.

He swallowed it in his mouth, then he sat cross-legged and meditated on this bloody battlefield. The surrounding Yellow Turbans did not dare to disturb him at this moment, and could only protect him from a distance.

He didn't wake up until noon after meditating. The wounds on his body were already scarred, and the blood gushing out formed a dark red patch. From the outside, he still looked very miserable, but Zhao Futu got up and moved.

After a while, he realized that he had recovered from his injuries. The talisman water that the yellow scarf warrior poured into him, coupled with the steaming bun, he suddenly recovered nearly a hundred health points, two

As soon as the effects of treating minor injuries were superimposed, he recovered a lot from the injury that pierced his lung.

Zhao Futu tore off a piece of cloth from his clothes, wrapped it twice around his chest, and simply bandaged the wound.

Only then did he have the opportunity to sort out his trophies. The corpses of other officers and soldiers had been groped, but no one dared to touch the corpse of the county captain. Those were his trophies. According to the rules, the jade sword and sword on the county captain were all

It belonged to Zhao Futu personally. He waved his hand to indicate that he did not need help from others, and walked over by himself. He first closed the county lieutenant's wide-open eyes, and then picked up the dark blue key on the ground that was invisible to others.

This is a master and deserves a little respect from him.

Zhao Futu took off the jade pendant from the county captain and picked up the ring-headed sword. Then he waved his hand and said, "You handle the other things, but give him some dignity and dig a hole for burial!"

The things that the county lieutenant gave birth to were all gray items with low value. At most, they could be replaced with dozens of survival points. Zhao Futu didn't want to completely remove the deceased.

After hearing Zhao Futu's instructions, the yellow turban captains looked at each other, and one by one they took off the county captain's clothes, jade belt, brocade robe and official boots, but left him with a little bit of covering.

clothes, and then dragged his body aside for burial as ordered. At this time, they were truly convinced of Zhao Futu and did not hesitate at all to his order.

"Squeak!"

There was a noise from the other side of the village, but the gate opened automatically.

I saw an old man with an old face walking out of the gate, followed by several trembling peasants, each carrying a load containing steamed buns, rice, pasta, roast chicken, and a processed pig.

In addition, a few people walked out with two jars of wine. It was already noon, and many of the Yellow Turbans were already very hungry after fighting. However, they did not attack at this time, and they did not know what the other party was thinking.

He looked at Zhao Futu with surprise.

After Zhao Futu packed up the trophies, he couldn't help but glance at the village elder and sighed in his heart: "He is indeed a man who knows the current affairs!"

But he saw the elder ordering the others to put down the food in their burdens, and then walked quickly to Zhao Futu, bowed down from a distance, and sighed: "My family surnamed Sun are all good citizens. In the wilderness,

I have also helped local poor people in the past years, and I hope the general will show mercy and let the old, young, women and children in the village go."

The old man had seen the power of Zhao Futu before and knew that the village could not resist such a strong man. He had already ordered others to prepare food and wine. If Zhao Futu was not dead after suffering such a serious injury, he would beg for mercy and let these yellow scarves go.

Everyone spared the young and old in the village. But if Zhao Futu was seriously injured and died, then these Yellow Turbans might not have the fighting spirit to take over the village, so they would naturally have to fight to the death.

"Elder, please get up!" Zhao Futu sighed and raised his hand to help the old man up.

As a modern person, he was not used to having an old man of sixty or seventy years old bow down to him. However, this troubled world itself was a kind of sadness, and the elder had no choice but to do it for the lives of the villagers and children.

Zhao Futu waved his hand to indicate to the Yellow Turbans that they would accept rice, meat, wine and food, and then said: "We only take some military rations, and we will not hurt anyone in the village."

Hearing Zhao Futu's promise, the elder cried with gratitude and wanted to fall down again, but Zhao Futu held him up.

People in this era are very committed to their promises, which is different from the too common modern people who do not keep their promises and like to brag but despise their promises. Therefore, once Zhao Futu said this, he would definitely fulfill it, otherwise these Yellow Turbans would

They would also look down on his character. Soon, several more peasants came out of the village carrying burdens, which contained bags of rice.

"You have a portion of the wine and meat, and let them share the rest!" Zhao Futu pointed to a burden and said to the yellow turban leader next to him.

The Yellow Turban captains had their share of the food and wine, and the rest was distributed among the other Yellow Turbans. The status of both parties was different, and the treatment they enjoyed was naturally different. This was an era that emphasized respectability, and other Yellow Turbans also

There was no objection, and nearly a hundred people happily gathered around a jar of wine to wait. Wine in ancient times was a luxury product, mostly used for sacrifices and ancestor worship, and it was rare for the lower class people to taste it a few times a year.

Since he promised not to disturb the people anymore, Zhao Futu immediately ordered others to leave with their burdens of rice and grain. When the people in the village saw the Yellow Turbans leaving, they felt relieved and felt like they were surviving a disaster. What if?

If these Yellow Turbans really attack the village, then it is not just a matter of food and wine. I am afraid that the old, weak, women and children will not be spared either, especially the women. I don’t know what kind of humiliation they will suffer!

………………

After the army withdrew five miles away, Zhao Futu ordered everyone to stop and rest. There were many injured among them, and they all needed simple bandaging.

The empty-bellied Yellow Turbans had already gathered around the loader waiting for the distribution of food. Each person had two steamed buns, a small piece of meat, a bowl of rice, and a sip of wine. This was the best meal they had during this period.

. Even in the former Yellow Turban Army camp, they may not have food and wine to eat. These people may have countless sex, but they are very easy to satisfy. Pigs in this era are generally thin, weighing only one or two hundred pounds at most.

, so half of the pork was left as army rations later. The cooked roast chicken was delivered to Zhao Futu alone, along with half a jar of wine, a salted fish, and a small basket of eggs.

The Yellow Turbans over there have already started eating, but these Yellow Turban captains still have no intention of taking action. Although they are already very hungry, the rare and rich meat in front of them has tempted them to become greedy, but these people are the biggest

The difference is that they understand discipline and respect better than the ordinary Yellow Turbans.

Zhao Futu understood after just one glance. He picked up the wine jar and took a big gulp. Then he handed it to the yellow scarf warrior beside him and said: "I don't like wine, so you can share the food."

After he took the first bite, the yellow scarf captains no longer had any worries, and everyone opened their bellies to eat and drink.

These people can be regarded as elites in the army, and they eat a lot. They eat big mouthfuls of rice, but each of them only eats one piece of meat. Each of them takes a sip of wine, and they drink it in turn. No one touches the roasted chicken, and it remains stable.

Placed firmly in front of Zhao Futu, no one would eat an extra piece of meat or drink an extra sip of wine. Invisibly, Zhao Futu between them saw the ancient feeling of sharing life and death with one's back!

This kind of emotion is far beyond the comparison between the fair-weather acquaintances that modern people can casually call brothers!

In this era, brotherhood is a lifelong commitment, a life-and-death commitment. If you call others brother casually, all you will get is a sentence: Who are you? You also want to be my brother!

This is the battlefield of ancient cold weapons.
Chapter completed!