After Transmigration, Her Whole Family Are Villains-Chapter 245: Crossroads of History

The frontier.

Fresh red bloodstains marked the snow.

Scattered in patches.

Due to the winter cold, the corpses had not yet decayed after several days.

Old Meng had recently passed through this village with his men, asking for some water to drink. Sometimes they would come to exchange goods.

But now, the village was deathly silent.

Not a sound could be heard.

Only the crunching of snow beneath Old Meng and his men's feet.

This village had been slaughtered.

There were bodies of adults and infants, but no women.

This was the standard attack pattern of the Liao People.

They killed all the men and children, except for the women.

The women were taken to be used as breeding tools, to continue their lineage. Food and valuables were all looted.

The Liao People didn't farm. When winter came with heavy snow, and they had no food source, they would come to raid the Chu Kingdom.

The Liao People were innately ferocious, bloodthirsty, and merciless. At their strongest, they had once fought all the way to Jiangzhou, rivers of blood in their wake, terrifying the people of Chu.

They didn't build, only savagely destroyed, killing indiscriminately.

If it weren't for Old General Meng guarding the frontier, such tragedies would likely occur every few years.

It was also because of General Meng's protection that the younger generation had forgotten those past atrocities.

The current emperor had probably forgotten too, after all, the Liao People had only reached Jiangzhou, not yet the capital.

Seeing the infant corpses, Old General Meng couldn't help but close his eyes.

Without even waiting for his men to act, he personally picked up a baby, gently cradling it in his arms.

He had a special fondness for children.

An extreme fondness.

When local children mischievously ran into the military camp, Old Meng would at most give them a mild scolding, and even send them off with some snacks.

Children were the future hope of a family, and also the future and hope of a nation.

He couldn't bear to see children die like this. They had barely been in this world, they hadn't grown up yet, and to die like this - it pained him beyond words.

Old Meng had led troops in battle for many years, and could be said to have killed countless people, but he had never killed a child.

They buried all the bodies in the village.

The old man he had spoken to just days ago was now frozen stiff.

There were no survivors; the Liao People were ruthless.

Old Meng exhaled several breaths, forming white mist.

This winter, snow had come early. Their supplies weren't enough to last the winter, so the Liao People would surely come to raid again.

It was bitterly cold, his wrists ached slightly, and the wind cut like a knife against his face.

Everyone was silent.

Old General Meng felt a sense of melancholy.

The war seemed endless.

The Liao People appeared to be growing stronger.

Previously, they couldn't carry out such swift raids, killing and leaving without a trace. It felt as if there might be a traitor among them.

He felt that one day he too would die here.

Perhaps this place would be his final resting place.

He had a premonition of his death here.

His premonitions were usually accurate.

Chaos was frequent in the imperial court, and the Liao People were restlessly provoking them.

It was impossible to manage both fronts.

Those loyal to the emperor and devoted to righteousness always died first.

How tragic.

Old Meng had even received news from the capital that some nonsensical female mystic had prophesied the end of the Meng family line, and everyone seemed to believe it.

How pitiful.

The snowfall intensified, quickly covering the bodies they had dragged out.

If those civil officials were here, they would probably compose a poem, praising the beauty of such a grand snowfall.

Misfortune never comes alone.

With this snow, if they tried to march to the next village, they might not make it in time.

The Liao cavalry had the advantage of speed; even if they traveled through the snow, they might continue to leave behind corpses like this.

"Cough, cough." Old Meng coughed a few times.

In this cold, opening one's mouth meant inhaling icy air.

After burying the bodies, Old General Meng prepared to lead his troops forward.

The wind and snow were fierce.

The soldiers had become somewhat numb.

Their bodies were numb from the cold, and their minds were growing numb too.

Because after seeing the corpses of their own kind, the initial shock had passed.

They were learning to get used to it.

Anyone could die.

Today it was these people, tomorrow it could be themselves.

In fact, they had already died many times over.

In their battles against the Liao People, they had narrowly escaped death numerous times.

A large part of their survival was thanks to the Jiang Family, who continuously sent food and clothing to the frontier, stimulating the local trade routes. With meager profits, they ensured the basic living conditions of the soldiers.

After burying the dead, they quickly made a fire and cooked a meal. At least they could eat something hot to gain strength before continuing their pursuit.

This time, the Liao People were unusually vicious, slaughtering village after village, as if deliberately luring Old Meng to kill them.

Old Meng ate in silence. Sometimes, even knowing it was a trap, they had no choice but to walk into it.

This was an open stratagem.

I kill your people, if you don't act, I'll keep killing until you come.

He was silently adjusting his emotions.

His own death didn't matter much, everyone dies eventually.

He was just worried about his wife, children, and grandchildren.

His son was honest and kind.

His grandson was sincere and loyal.

They had been taught too well.

Sometimes Old Meng felt the Chu Kingdom didn't deserve his son and grandson.

So when Shao Xia wrote asking to live at a girl's house for three years, he agreed without hesitation.

His family already had this old man selling his life for the country, constantly risking death. At least someone should be able to live.

His family had few descendants, and he worried and regretted that he might die before seeing his family line continue.

People believed in spirits and gods.

He believed too.

Because every battle was a gamble with death. If not spirits and gods, what else could one believe in?

Surviving was always a matter of luck, snatching back a life from the hands of the spirits.

If history hadn't changed.

After this meal, General Meng would lead his troops to pursue the Liao People.

The Liao People would set a trap, and with the betrayal of General Meng's most trusted man, General Meng would die in battle.

The wind and snow would cover everything.

His body wouldn't be dug out until two months later.

This entire group would die.

But now, they were eating heartily.

They ate instant noodles, dried meat, and hard bread - quite a feast.

They were also dressed warmly, with cotton padding in their clothes for insulation.

This winter was very cold, but they were living slightly better than in previous years.

As General Meng was eating, halfway through his meal.

The communications officer came running.

"It's born! It's born!"

"What's born?"

"General, your grandson's wife has given birth! She had twins, two boys at once!"

The communications officer, with frozen snot that he couldn't sniffle back, blurted out in one breath.

Old Meng's noodles clattered to the ground, half spilling onto his clothes, but he didn't feel the heat.

His mouth still full of unchewed noodles, he swallowed hard.

Then he burst into laughter.

As he laughed, his eyes reddened.

It was truly cold.

Today, he had personally cradled an infant's corpse, carefully burying it.

As he buried it, he had mumbled, "In your next life, may you be born into a good family, at least somewhere warmer. It's too damn cold here."

His Meng family line would continue.

His grandson had fathered twins in one go.

He had great-grandsons.

"Ha!"

Old Meng let out a long breath.

"Extra rations tonight, bring out all the food you have on you, let's have a good meal. To honor the dead and celebrate new life," Old General Meng said, picking up the half-spilled bowl of noodles from the ground and addressing everyone.

"Extra rations. To honor the dead and celebrate new life."

"To honor the dead and celebrate new life."

"To honor the dead and celebrate new life."

The chant spread.

In the distant mountains, snow fell from the trees.

The Liao People in ambush didn't know what they were celebrating.

Suddenly, it seemed very lively and exciting.

The hidden Liao warriors grew impatient.

Tonight's wind and snow were heavy.

If the enemy didn't come, they would suffer through the night and fall ill too. A Liao life was still a life.

They had received accurate information that General Meng would surely come.

But he was late in arriving, and instead they heard laughter and shouting, which made them restless.

Old Meng was ecstatic.

Away from the crowd, he wailed, embracing his old comrade who had fought alongside him for years.

Crying rather ungracefully in his arms.

As he cried, he suddenly felt the knife on his old comrade's body.

Old Meng was incredulous.

His actions were faster than his thoughts. He pulled out the knife and plunged it into his comrade's back.

"Brother Yu Bei, why? Why have you betrayed me?"

The snow fell heavily.

The Liao People were still waiting.

Tonight, Old Meng wouldn't come. He was celebrating the birth of his great-grandsons, and then immediately lost his best friend. He laughed and cried, continuing to bury people.

The north wind blew, snowflakes danced.

A tree branch snapped with a crack.