Bendu pulled the god of the Beilin Hu people, who was five years old, standing on the grassland with lush autumn grass, facing the brothers and elders of his tribe who were once again integrated, and he did not blame all the mistakes on his brothers. He announced loudly to the remaining more than 400,000 tribes: "I admit my mistakes and accept the punishment of God for this. But I cannot die now because I must atone for my sins. I must provide our Hun God to grow up and make him the true king of our nation. If you still trust me, please follow me to the north of the desert, and we will lie on firewood and taste gall to recuperate. In 20 years, let the Hun King take back our homeland grassland and go south to herd horses."

Looking at the tribe members who became tragic and vigorous in the whistling cold wind that gradually rose, from numbness and despair, he took out the heartbreaking sword and stretched out his left hand: "The heaven of immortality is above, if I develop greed again, I will do this."

Then he swung his sword without hesitation. The heartbreaking sword was extremely sharp and worthy of the world's magical weapons. With one sword, Bendu's palm fell down, blood splattered, and a group of guards immediately stepped forward to bandage him.

They all looked pale, but their figure was still straight: "Please forgive me, follow me, follow our god, for the sake of Lin Hu's continuation, let's go to Mobei and sleep on firewood and taste gall."

The remnants of more than 400,000 Lin Hu's tribes quietly dispersed, and then they began to clean up their belongings.

A tent was dismantled, and together with all their belongings, Lulu cars were installed, and groups of cattle and sheep from all over the place were returned in a pen and merged into the slow and firm team of northbound travel.

The desolate and sad songs sounded dullly in the team advancing north, "Losing my Qilian Mountains will prevent my livestock from surging. Losing my Yanzhi Mountains will make my married woman have no color." They responded to each other, mixed with the crying of women and children.

I don’t know when the sky began to be covered with red clouds. The first snowflake fell into the team entering the north, and then there were snowflakes that covered the sky and the earth.

In this snowflakes all over the sky, everyone turned back three times.

In previous years, everyone drove the clouds of cattle and sheep to the south at this time, looking for abundant herbs and enjoying the peace of the winter.

But this year, they were forced to drive cattle and sheep, drag their families to the north, and flee to the more bitter and cold desert north.

"This is the heavy snow brought to us by the damn charlatan Zhao Xing. He wants to cruelly freeze and starve us to death on this road." Everyone began to curse the god they once worshiped and curse his cruelty.

A woman's scream came from the team, and then the woman's heart-wrenching cry.

Bendu, who had one-armed horse rushed over, he saw a woman holding the child on his chest tightly. The child's head was tilted weakly, as if to welcome the snowflakes in the sky, but the snowflakes fell on his tender face, but it no longer melted.

"Dad, don't want it." Another scream came out, outside the team in front, Bendu rushed over. He saw an old man lying on his back in the snow, with a scimitar in his chest.

Bendu jumped off his horse, walked to the old man, and asked softly: "Why?"

The old man, who had not yet died, looked at the king with difficulty, and his eyes had begun to dissipate, but he still explained the king's inquiry with difficulty: "The further north, the harder it is, the more exhausted our food will be. I will not be useful. Leave a lot of food for those children."

Ben couldn't help but kneel down and lowered his ashamed head to the old man: "No, no, I'll go to Qin State and ask the Qin people--"

The old man grabbed the broken arm that had no palms and shook his head firmly: "No, no, the Qin people's food is poison. Even if we commit suicide, we will not eat a piece of Qin people's food. The king——" and then died of anger.

"King, king, another old man is heading into the wilderness." The guard ran over and reported to Bendu with a cry.

Ben stood up and looked outside the team. In the dark world, countless old men were hunched over, supporting each other with difficulty, and walking towards the distance.

Bendu's heart was as painful as he knew that according to ancient customs, in the year of disaster, those old, weak and useless elderly people would leave their own tribes, just like the yellow dogs who were about to die to visit their house, to leave their own tribe and find a place without people to fend for themselves.

Bendu chased after him, blocked the old men with numb and resolute expressions, knelt down for them, hugged their thighs and begged: "We have not yet reached the end of our lives. We still have cattle, sheep, and horses. We will rely on them to walk to the north of the desert and reproduce our ethnic group again."

The old man replied firmly: "I starve to death and will not eat seeds and sheep. The remaining cattle and sheep of our cattle and sheep are all the seeds of the future. Our horses are all the wolves that the warriors hunt our wolves to drive away and resist the invasion of the Central Plains people. We must not eat them. If we, Linhu people, have no cattle and sheep that grazed and reproduced, and our warriors have no war horses, then are we still Linhu people?"

On his numb face, despair was replaced by peace and kindness, and he gently stroked Bendu's head: "My child, my king, don't care about us anymore. This decision was summarized by our Lin Husheng's endless inheritance. Only when we die can we leave food for our children. As long as we have children, we have hope. Go and take the tribe members on the road, go to a place where we can heal our wounds and allow our tribe to continue to develop."

Then he firmly withdrew his hand and followed the group of old people to the depths of the vast grassland.

Ben was lying in the snow and cried loudly: "But if we don't have the elderly, there will be no one passing it on word of mouth and inheriting our history. Is a nation that has no history and does not know where it comes from? Is it still a nation? We, Lin Hu, will really perish."

Listening to such wailing and crying, the old man took two steps, but turned around and said meaningfully to the original lying on the grassland: "Without the old man, there will be no history. Hehe, I hope we have no history. I hope you will forget history now, including the hatred history with the people of the Central Plains." Going back to the depths of the grassland: "Forget history, forget hatred. The tenacity and strength of the people of the Central Plains are something we cannot defeat no matter what. Forget history, let's open up another history from now on and shape a new nation without hatred from the Central Plains. Our god is the Xiongnu, and I will see a new and powerful Xiongnu nation in the sky, traversing the grasslands and deserts."

Looking at the countless old men who firmly walked towards the depths of the grassland, Ben stood up, used a scimitar to cut a deep wound on his face, and let the blood condense in the heavy snow: "I swear, I will bring up a powerful new Xiongnu nation, I swear, I will not forget our hatred, I swear, the soon-to-be powerful Xiongnu people will retaliate against the people of the Central Plains at a price of hundreds or thousands of times today."

The corpses, the elegies and the crying, the Linhu people were destroyed, and the future Huns slowly and firmly headed northward, walked northward, walked through the wind and snow, walked through the desert, and disappeared into the extremely cold north.
Chapter completed!