Super Soldier King Chapter 3764: Complex people
The Ye Haoran and Wang Yu poems continued to lead the horse, and at night, the horse’s eyes could not be seen clearly.
The two followed the path and walked all the way. It didn’t take long for the rumbling looming water flow to come. Sure enough, they didn’t go far. A large and smooth river appeared in front of the two. The snow accumulated on the mountain peaks is not deep, but the water volume is sufficient. When it reaches the bottom of the mountain, it merges with the snow water in other places to form the source of the Yellow River.
"Let's find a dry place to rest," Ye Haoran said.
Wang Yu poem promised.
The two of them walked up the water~pig~pig~island~small~said~www~zuhu~ a few hundred meters, they saw a flat plain with mountains and flowers.
Hold the horses, set up the tent, set up a campfire, roasted a hare and suckling sheep, and the two had a big meal. I have to say that the amount of food for those who practice martial arts is large, even if they are slim Wang Yu poem, no less than Tyson.
After eating and washing, the two entered the tent and rested casually. Ye Haoran needs rest, but Wang Yu poem is still in recovery period, it is still needed. The Wang Yu poem also understands the meaning of Ye Haoran. She naturally took the time to recover her injury. The two rested separately, and late at night, there was a rush of horseshoes in the distance, and there were many horseshoes.
Ye Haoran and Wang Yu poems glanced at each other.
It didn’t take long for the horses to be close. Although it was dark, the other’s horses were able to run fast. This means that the other’s horses must have been specially trained, and, listening to the sound of the horseshoes, there were at least 30 horses. The horse is running.
"Yuan... which road is the friend in front of you," a man with a thick Mongolian accent asked in the dark, but he spoke Mandarin, which shows that Mandarin has long spread to this snowy mountain.
"He who goes hiking, rest here," Ye Haoran walked out of the tent and replied.
When I heard the sound of Ye Haoran, there seemed to be a lot of relaxation there, and then a dozen people came over with a large group of horses under the water. Those horses are tall and majestic. They seem to be different from the breeds bred by Ma Huaiyuan. They should be pure Mongolian horses.
"I'm sorry to disturb the rest of the two. I'm so sorry. It's really only big enough here. We have to rest here." An old man in the front, wearing a leather blanket, came over and walked towards Ye Haoran archway.
Ye Haoran understands, it seems that these people should be specialized wranglers. They are different from Ma Huaiyuan and others. Although Ma Huaiyuan also raises horses, he has already settled down semi, except for rushing the horses in the coldest time. Outside of the warmer place, he usually settled in the foothills of the Tianshan Mountains.
These people should be Mongolian survivors. They still live a nomadic life, but these people have too few horses, maybe they are vanguards. The true nomadic Mongolian people are all a big family, with hundreds of people moving around, otherwise they will not be called people on horseback.
Ye Haoran and Wang Yu poems packed up the tent, led two horses, and let out a clearing.
The group of people saw that Ye Haoran and Wang Yu poems were young men and women, and they were also holding horses with necessities of life. Set up a tent, some bonfires, and quickly finished.
A group of people speak babbling Mongolian, and Ye Haoran and Wang Yu poems are not understandable.
It didn’t take long for the fragrant barbecue smell to drift over, and the old man headed toward Ye Haoran arched: "If the two don't want to abandon, come over and talk."
Ye Haoran touched his belly, and of course he was not polite, so he walked away with on time with Wang Yu poetry, and sat with the group of Mongolian men.
Mongolians have always been bold in drinking, and tossed Ye Haoran a large bag of horse milk, and then respected the wine.
Ye Haoran really likes this wine, let go and drink it, drink a few bites and drink three kilograms of horse milk.
"Good!" The group of men saw that Ye Haoran was so drinkable. They immediately applauded and raised the leather pots in their hands. They sipped up and the atmosphere immediately became warm.
Alcohol is always the best way to communicate. Ye Haoran is a big drink, and the surrounding Mongolians don’t feel that they all regard Ye Haoran as a friend.
"Boy, where are you going?" the old man headed asked.
Ye Haoran pointed to the top of the mountain and said, "Go to Tomur Peak, climb the peak, we are going to explore and climb."
The old man listened, shook his head, and said, "Boy, this is not the right time for you to come this time."
Ye Haoran just do not know, said: "Why, now the snow is thick and strong, it is a good time to climb."
"The time is just right, but the chance is not good, now, the mountain is not very flat," the old man whispered.
"Not too flat?" Ye Haoran eyes flashed a little light, "Old man, why is not so flat."
"Oh, this world hasn’t been in such a mess for a long time, don’t hide the lad, you said, we just came from the mountain, why do we even whipping horses to drive the mountain road in the middle of the night? There are a lot of dead people over there," the old man shook his head and sighed. He hasn't seen such a miserable scene for many years.
"Dead man?" Ye Haoran muttered, knowing in his heart, it seems that the battle for the Ling Cao Garden has already begun.
"Yeah, so Ah, don't go anymore," the old man took a cigarette from his waist, knocked it, lit it, and sucked it up.
"Grandpa, there is no Hamou first..." A Mongolian man next to him came over, speaking to the old man with Ye Haoran incomprehensible words in his mouth.
The old man responded.
The Mongolian man took out a folded map from his pocket, reached for it, and asked the old man what was in his mouth.
The old man pointed on the map, and it was an answer. It is estimated that the big man asked how to move now. The old man pointed a road around the mountain. Although it was far away, it was safe to stay away from Tomur Peak.
Ye Haoran joined on time and glanced at the map. Although this map is relatively simple, the drawing of Tomur Peak is very comprehensive.
"Old man, can you give us a map," Ye Haoran said, "Oh, our two horses, you can’t use them anymore, they will be used to change your map."
The old man looked back at Ye Haoran, frowned, and knocked his cigarette bag, saying: "Young man, do you still decide to go to the summit?"
Ye Haoran nodded and said: "Of course."
Wang Yu poem has been sitting by the campfire, eating barbecue, with a calm expression.
The old man looked at Ye Haoran and looked at the Wang Yu poem again. He understood in his heart that it seemed that the two youngsters were also rushing to something on the Tomur Peak.
Sighing, the old man gave a command to the Mongolian man. The Mongolian man handed over the map and gave it to Ye Haoran.
The old man said: "Young man, we are together for fate, I will tell you a few words, on this mountain, don’t blaspheme the snow god, she will drop an avalanche and punish evil. If you really encounter an avalanche, remember not to go Hiding under the stone and being crushed to death carefully. Oh, you see, on the other side of the mountain, there is a hot spring sanatorium, where several people with guns are guarding, and if they are in danger, they will flee there."
The old man was very attentive and gave Ye Haoran a few ways to escape.
Thank you Ye Haoran. I scanned the map a few times, pointed, and asked about the characteristics of some places of the old man.
Having asked these questions, Ye Haoran put away the map.
After a bunch of people ate and drank, they were about to rest, but in the distance a footstep sounded, perhaps a bonfire attracted people in the distance, and soon, a dozen or so men in black in night clothes came to the bonfire not far away.
"Which friend is in front of you," the people shouted, it seemed that everyone's awareness of prevention was quite strong, and they were not too close, but just asked from a distance.
The Mongolian old man beside Ye Haoran didn’t dare to stand up and stood up and said, "We are driving horses, so stop here."
After hearing the old man’s Mandarin with Mongolian flavor, people in the distance calmed down, and soon a dozen or so people in black night clothes came over.
Ye Haoran's eyes narrowed. These people were carrying big bags and bulging around their waists. Obviously, they were carrying hot weapons, and they looked at their walking posture. If Bi Jing reaches the level of Ancient Martial Artist, there is no need to bring guns and ammunition.
These people walked over, and the atmosphere in the field was obviously cold. These Mongolian men who had been running Jiang Hu for a long time, smelled a **** smell from more than ten people.
Those in black were considered polite, but they sat down in the northeast corner. The one headed, with a scar on his face, did not look like a knife wound, it was more like a wound left after a bullet shot.
"We passed by here and happened to be a little hungry. I used the bonfire of my friends to use it." The scarred head arched towards the old man, and then he waved his hand before the old man answered. The individual immediately became alive and quickly took the pot to stir-fry and quickly became alive.
The Ye Haoran and Wang Yu poems glanced at each other, and there was some worry in their eyes.
There are too many people coming! And ~IndoMTL.com~ even has such a small role!
A circle of people was busy with their own lives, and apparently did not take Ye Haoran and other Mongolians into their eyes. They were talking loudly while cooking.
"Brother, you said that we came here thousands of miles away, and we also carried the spectrum scanner, life detector, what the **** is this?" A black man in the corner grumbled dissatisfiedly, two hands Rubbing his calf.
"Not many questions, we have to come to the order, rest assured, I have read, the money is already in the account, no matter what they are doing, we have one million after finishing the job, It’s easy.” The scarred face pulled out a packet of red Nanjing and pumped it up.
"It didn't feel easy. We usually make a big deal, and there are millions of them. We don't have to run so far, that is, set fires and kill individuals," the man complained.
"Enough!" The scarred face scolded, and then his eyes swept the other Mongolians, then his eyes stunned on Wang Yu poems and Ye Haoran. "The two... don’t look like Mongolians."
A bit of cold light flashed in the eyes of the scarred face, staring at Ye Haoran and Wang Yu poems.