Nangong Ping, whose courtesy name is She, once joked with Prime Minister Nangong Xi that one day, after he was completely disappointed with the emperor and ministers of Changjing, he would go to the ends of the world with his sword and kill them when he saw injustice.
Zaifu Nangongxi couldn't laugh or cry, and said that if Nangong Ping killed someone, he should not involve the Nangong family.
Nangong Ping agreed that one day, he would change his name to Nangong She, using the word as his name.
Nangong Ping never thought of himself as a scholar and mingled in the market, and he never revealed his identity as the nephew of the prime minister to outsiders.
This is Nangong Ping, confused Nangong Ping, helpless Nangong Ping.
He is confused because what he thinks about the word "scholar" is very different from what others think.
What is a scholar can be answered in three words: it is for all people.
If you don’t serve all people, what kind of scholar can you be?
Even if you don’t serve the people, if you read the book, the book will teach you the three words of serving the people, not being an official!
Helpless because Nangong Ping knew that all scholars turned "books" into a tool, a tool to rise above the court.
How many people, how many scholars, when reading, think about these three words: for all peoples?
It's like taking the civil service examination... No, it's like taking the imperial examination. Friends will ask, why do you want to take the imperial examination? Many people will answer that it is for the iron rice bowl. Everyone is accustomed to it. This is the correct answer.
But if he answers that I am doing this to benefit the people and make their lives better, then he will be laughed at for the rest of his life.
So, this is a very fucked up thing.
What's worse than fucking is despair.
When this guy found out that the iron rice bowl was not so fragrant, he saw his classmates around him, who were doing business, making a lot of money, living in a wealthy... living in a big mansion, running away... riding in a big sedan, and then he felt like When you feel uncomfortable, you take off your clothes, quit working, go into business, or use the clothes on your body to make money.
That's what's more fucked up than fucked up, despair.
What do you want?
We regard you as a person who can uphold justice for us, as a spiritual pillar, and then you use this pillar as a springboard, then you are so stupid, can you just be a merchant from the beginning?
I want to have an identity, I want to make money, I want to be aloof, I want an image, and I don’t want to serve the people. Is there such a good career?
Really, when you are a public servant... you are an official!
This is the tiger in Nangong Ping's heart, the tiger that chooses people to devour.
Scholars have all changed. Nangong Ping, a real scholar who does not say he is a scholar, deserves these three words. A gentleman has all six skills. He can speak out for justice and kill thieves with a sword.
The long sword and the scimitar collided together. Nangong Ping's mouth went numb, and he almost lost his sword and took several steps back.
Anatu, who can control the Iron Wolf Guard, has a great reputation on the grassland, so he is naturally not an ordinary person.
The scimitar used by Anatu had a larger and longer arc, and shone with a cold light that caught people's eyes.
Most of the nomads were cavalry. In cavalry battles, soldiers met each other in close combat and were mostly used for two actions: chopping and slashing. The sword was double-edged and could easily be broken or curled for chopping and blocking.
The knife is single-edged, and you can use the back of the knife to block and the blade to chop.
In addition, the back of the knife is very thick, making it difficult to break when blocked, and the sharp edge of the blade can also be protected.
With the power of horse speed and charge, the scimitar makes it easier to kill enemies.
As soon as the two of them came into contact, Nangong Ping took the lead and stabbed out with his sword. Anatu used his sword to deflect it and then slashed down.
This blow was so powerful that Nangong Ping not only turned sideways, but also raised his sword to block it.
Nangong Ping's jaw and arms were numb. Anatu pressed forward step by step.
Using a sword to block a knife did not give you an advantage. Originally, Nangong Ping thought that even if the opponent was a fierce general, he was also a strong general in the battle formation. However, he did not expect that the opponent reacted extremely quickly. He stabbed several swords in a row, but all were blocked.
In the blink of an eye, the two clashed several times. Nangong fought and retreated, gritting his teeth and persisting.
Anatu struck the air several times in succession, and Anatu became more and more anxious as he struck, fearing that Nangong Ping would turn around and run away again, so he struck harder and harder.
Nangong Ping, who had already spent a lot of energy, looked overwhelmed, his forehead covered with sweat.
Seeing another slash coming, Nangong Ping gritted his teeth and dodged sideways. With a fierce look of exchanging life for life, he drew back his arm and slashed the sword across Anatu's chest.
Blood sprayed out, but Anatu was a veteran in battle. At such a close distance, it didn't hit a vital part, it just scratched. When it saw blood, it wasn't a fatal injury.
The next moment, Anatu thrust the scimitar in his hand from bottom to top again. Nangong Ping was caught off guard and received a solid blow from his abdomen to his chest.
The light black Confucian robe was completely cut open.
Nangong Ping clutched his chest, looking like he couldn't bear it. He took a few steps back and suddenly fell down. He wanted to get up again, but he seemed to have no strength.
There was a large amount of blood on the abdomen of the black Confucian robe. Nangong Ping wanted to struggle to get up, but he couldn't do it no matter what.
Anatu showed a victor's smile, looked back at the rear where the fight was still going on, and then came to Nangong Ping's face unhurriedly.
Crouching down, Anatu kicked away the long sword beside Nangong Ping, grabbed the scimitar with his backhand, half-knelt on the ground, held the scimitar behind his back, and raised it high.
"I want to take your head back to the grassland."
As soon as he finished speaking, Anatu's smile froze.
A short knife was inserted into his chest.
Nangong Ping rolled up and grabbed his waist, like a villain who had succeeded.
"Killing depends on your brain, you idiot!"
Anatu lowered his head and looked at the dagger with only the handle on his chest, his face full of disbelief.
He had clearly hit the opponent just now, and the opponent also fell to the ground and could not get up. Why, why did he sneak attack on him, and where did the dagger inserted into his chest come from?
Nangong Ping was so proud that he tore the Confucian robe to pieces and patted the breastplate underneath the Confucian robe.
"Idiot, I'm wearing my breastplate underneath, hahahaha, you've never seen it before!"
As soon as the laughter subsided, Nangong Ping raised his toes, grabbed the sword again, and stabbed him four times.
Anatu fell to the ground, his lower back, legs and ankles all stabbed and pierced.
Nangong Ping tore off his sleeves and pressed the wound on his abdomen: "Master Chu once said that the hearts of scholars are dirty. You must have seen it."
He raised the sword again, and the cold light flashed across Anatu's throat.
"I said, I want to seek justice for the more than 300 Chang people!"
Nangong Ping picked up the machete on the ground and chopped it on Anatu's neck.
In the distance, the fire was still strong. On two battlefields, Chu Qing and others were fighting with the Iron Wolf Guards. Guoyi Camp had lost at least one-third of its soldiers and they were constantly charging and killing.
Bodies all over the floor may be moving or not.
He was able to stand up but had no strength to fight anymore. He helped him up, gritted his teeth, and walked towards the rear.
Those who cannot move are allowed to be trampled on by both fighting parties.
Niu Ren was already filled with blood. Even though he knew that he was short of manpower, he saw with his own eyes the numerous casualties among his subordinates. He could no longer hold back and swung his horse-killing sword, causing heads to roll.
The border troops were all fighting hard, and so were the Liang bandits.
Everyone, let’s grab that meaningless “line” again.
"The thief chief has been killed, and here is his head. The frontier army will be victorious!"
Nangong Ping, carrying Anatu's head, appeared on the slope and shouted loudly, holding a human head in one hand and a torch in the other.
More and more people, supporting each other, stood on the slope.
Chu Qing, Fu San, Tong Gui, Xiao Yi, Tian Hailong, Tan Ma, and the Imperial Guard, almost everyone was injured.
"The thief chief has been killed, and here is his head. The border army will be victorious!!!"
