In the setting sun, Pullman stood quietly on the hill, and dried blood could still be seen on his armor. A big sword was inserted beside him. There were gaps in the sword body. The strips wrapped around the hilt were worn out, and many of them were dyed dark red.

In the wilderness near the setting sun, scattered weapons, broken gun bars, burning flags, and twisted corpses formed a desolate painting.

The rebels tied with white turbans searched one by one on the battlefield. If they found that there were living people, they would quickly lift them on a stretcher and send them to the medical point behind them. Whether they were their comrades-in-arms or their former enemies, every life was precious.

"Brother Pullman, have we won?" a teenager lying on a stretcher asked weakly, his upper body was covered with bandages and his arm was thrusting.

"Yes, we won." Pullman held his other intact hand, his words filled with sighs.

"Good...so good." The boy looked at the blue and purple sky with his eyes and murmured to himself.

"We are one step closer to our dream."

---------------------

Continental South, Velgar Business Alliance, Hoplane.

After dealing with the Chamber of Commerce, Lorran Hill recently ushered in a rare moment of rest.

At this time, she was sitting alone in a small yard behind the mansion. The yard was not big and there was a pear tree not tall in the middle.

The small yard is very quiet, and you can hear the clear sound of birds. Occasionally, a few of them fly down from the eaves and land on the grass, crossing back and forth, pecking and pecking, and then flying away again.

The girl was wearing a white skirt and sat on a wooden chair with a backrest. She was located under the eaves of the yard. There were several standing stone pillars next to it, and some green moss spread from the grass in the yard to the gaps between the steps.

At this moment, she was in her arms, with half a basket of green pea pods inside. Her nails pressed the corners of the pods, cut them off and pulled a green fiber, and a few crystal wet beans appeared from the pods, followed by a faint fragrance of the plants.

Use your fingers to gently tweak a few green peas, and put the peas into the porcelain bowl on the right, and put the torn pods into another bamboo basket on the ground on the left.

Lorran Hill quietly peeled the pods, and a few golden hairs were scattered on her chest. Occasionally, the wind blew over, the birds chirped and flew away in the wind, and the shadows of the branches and leaves of the pear trees swayed gently in the courtyard.

These days, the maid has always served her life. It was a bit new at first, but after a long time, she wanted to do something herself.

While sitting upright on a wooden chair, Lolan Hill slowly recalled some past events. When she was a child, she would go to her grandma's house to play during winter and summer vacations. Unlike her depressed home in the city, her grandma lived in the mountains.

Whenever it rains, you can clearly hear the sound of raindrops hitting the green tiles. She likes to live at her grandma's house very much. Because no one urges her to study here, no one will stare at her fiercely every day. Grandma and grandpa likes her very much and do not give her any restrictions. She can do what she wants.

Whether it is watching under trees on the hillside, going fishing by the river, grilling corn in the drying yard, squatting in the fields to dig peanuts, or hiding in the house to play games for a day, grandparents and grandpas won’t talk about her, just eat on time.

On summer nights, she would lie on a bamboo lounge chair, looking at the Milky Way starlight and the moon in the sky, and grandma would tell some magical stories, such as savages eating children in the mountains, etc.

By the way, she had also seen fireflies. It was when she was 6 years old, and the fireflies were flying all over the mountains, flashing. She had wanted to learn from the ancients to catch a few fireflies and put them in transparent plastic bags, and then use them to read books at night.

Unfortunately, the stories are all lie. The light of the fireflies is too weak to see clearly, unless hundreds of them gather together.

As I grow older, I don’t know why there are fewer and fewer fireflies in the mountains, and I have never seen them again after I was 10 years old.

As the days go by, she likes to make some food for herself.

At the beginning, it was just roasted sweet potatoes, roasted peanuts, roasted corn, roasted potatoes and the like.

Later, she learned to use the crucian carp caught in the pond to make soup. At that time, she was not very good at cutting vegetables. Grandma was afraid that she would cut her hands and would not let her touch the knife, so her grandfather handled the fish first. She watched from the side, and a cat in her hometown squatted with her was also squatting with her.

If you don't let it be cut and stir-fry, then cook something. The corn is really delicious, and the potatoes are also good. Occasionally, the beans are boiled, which makes her think it's good.

As the peas were slowly peeled off, their thoughts slowly retracted.

The originally empty porcelain bowl slowly accumulated from the first few peas, gradually increasing bit by bit, and finally filled the white porcelain bowl. The girl looked at it and felt a faint sense of satisfaction.

She picked up the white porcelain bowl filled with peas in her hands and went to the kitchen next to her. This was a small room she asked Chelsea to clean up, where she could make some food.

Pour the green beans into a pottery basin, then scoop out a scoop of clear water from the water tank, pour it into it, rub it gently, and then the fingers rotate and stir in the pottery basin, bringing up a small vortex. At this time, the fingers stop, and then rotate in the opposite direction naughtyly, causing a wave of clear waves.

After a few rounds of this, tilt the pottery basin, block the round beans inside with one hand like a small dam, and slowly drain the water out.

As the flint rubbed, a few dried dead grass was ignited, a deep pot was put on, and clear water was poured in, and then the peeled beans were covered, and a few firewood was added again. The flame slowly rose from the dead branches and licked the bottom of the pot.

Lorran Hill brought a chair and sat quietly by the stove. The crackling sound of firewood burning came, and the orange flames reflected in her pupils, and she became a little stunned.

When people are alone, they will think and think about many things, present, past, and future.

I have been in this world for a long time, without my past relatives, friends and familiar faces. Now she is no longer bound by any restrictions, and what kind of path will she embark on in the future?
Chapter completed!