Resurrection of Spiritual Energy: Billions of Times Talent

They could feel that there was a mysterious aura on Jiang Yuan's body, like a mist, invisible to the naked eye, and it was spreading out little by little.

　　Standing beside Jiang Yuan, countless pictures gradually appeared in front of their eyes.

　　Jiang Yuan felt in a trance, and he came to a huge military camp, surrounded by soldiers in a hurry.

　　There is also a huge square in the distance.

　　There were a large number of transport planes parked in the square, and countless soldiers were frozen and bruised and swollen, patting the long line, waiting to board the plane.

　　In the sky, transport planes are constantly landing, and transport planes are taking off on the ground, carrying soldiers full of planes to retreat.

　　A transport plane was not far from him, its propellers spinning, stirring snowflakes flying everywhere, and some crushed ice hitting his face as uncomfortable as a knife.

　　At this time, a person suddenly patted him on the shoulder and said, "Xiao Yuan, what are you thinking?"

　　Jiang Yuan turned around and saw an extremely unfamiliar, but somewhat familiar face.

　　The other party is in his forties, almost fifty years old, not young, there are many wrinkles left by the years on his face, and the whole person is also cold and bruised and swollen.

　　Beside the man, there was a young man who looked very similar to him.

　　The boy looked to have just turned eighteen years old, half a head shorter than the two, and he kept covering his hands, shivering and shivering from the cold.

　　At this moment, countless memories began to flood into my heart.

　　Jiang Yuan finally remembered that the person in front of him was none other than his uncle Zhang Shan, and the young man next to him was his uncle's son Zhang Hua, who had been calling himself brother because he was younger than himself.

　　"All martial artists and above, please come to the No. 7 restaurant ......"

　　At this time, the announcer's voice came from the radio around him, which was very crisp and continuous.

　　Zhang Shan said with a smile: "Xiaoyuan, you are here to accompany your brother, I will go to the restaurant, don't run blindly, I will see if I can bring you something to eat inside." "

　　Before Jiang Yuan could speak, Zhang Hua's eyes suddenly lit up, and he couldn't help but say excitedly: "Dad, is there instant noodles in it, is there any steamed buns!"

　　"There should be!"

　　Speaking of instant noodle steamed buns, Zhang Shan in front of him couldn't help but swallow his saliva.

　　They are directly under the Great Arctic, the first line of defense, since the first line of defense has not been held, the logistics have been dealt with, and the comrades around them have been frozen to death, and those who have been starved to death have been starved to death.

　　Jiang Yuan and his family didn't eat a full meal for a week, basically grabbed a handful of snow and swallowed it directly to satisfy their hunger.

　　It was only an hour before I came here.

　　It's not just him who is miserable, almost everyone is the same.

　　All around were hungry soldiers who could barely walk, lying on the ground, struggling to even move, and some of them were lying on the ground, basically forever, never able to get up again.

　　Jiang Yuan's family is also in a very bad state now, everyone knows their own situation, and basically as soon as they lie down and relax, they can no longer open their eyes.

　　"Xiao Yuan, my brother will be handed over to you. "

　　Jiang Yuan nodded cautiously and said, "Don't worry! We are in the same place and will not go anywhere." "

　　Zhang Shan nodded, touched his son's head, and walked towards the direction of the restaurant.

　　It was already overcrowded, but there was a large group of gendarmes guarding the gate with weapons, not allowing anyone below the martial artist to approach, and if they did, they would be driven away.

　　Zhang Shan walked here and showed his ID, and the other party waved his hand to let him in.

　　Zhang Shan, who entered it, found that there were not many people in the restaurant, and even the heating was turned on inside.

　　The warm feeling made some officers in their early thirties tremble with excitement, and they took off their gloves that were linked together with flesh and blood with a slight tremble.

　　There are also dining tables inside, and in front of each table, there are bowls, chopsticks and meals, and everything has been prepared for them a long time ago.

　　Fragrant.

　　Many of the officers were dazed with hunger, their eyes almost glowing, and they rushed forward excitedly, stretched out their stiff fingers, and grabbed a handful of steaming white rice.

　　After biting down, the whole person cried out excitedly.

　　But more people still found a place to sit down, looked at the food in front of them tremblingly, closed their eyes, and took a deep breath of the aroma, looking intoxicated.

　　Most people didn't start the first time.

　　Because the army has its own discipline, when the superior officer does not speak for dinner, all will instinctively abide by this discipline, because everyone has not forgotten their identity as soldiers.

　　Without making everyone wait for a long time, an admiral walked in through the door, dusty and covered in ice and snow.

　　He took off his hat and walked to the front with some old military boots under the annotations of countless soldiers, stepping on the clean and smooth floor, and making a crisp sound.

　　He stood there, his eyes scanning in front of him, tens of thousands of officers above the martial arts division.

　　These are the Terrans, the current first line of defense, the most powerful force.

　　Looking at them, the admiral snapped, his feet merged, made the sound of military boots colliding, suddenly made a salute movement, and then saluted everyone present in place, one hundred and eighty degrees.

　　After the ceremony, he opened his mouth, his voice was slow, but with a hint of tenderness: "Let's eat!"

　　The moment his voice fell, everyone almost unanimously began to eat, gobbling up one by one, and the food kept racing into their mouths.

　　Everyone's cheeks were full, and there was an incomparably happy light in their eyes.

　　Some people giggled while eating.

　　In the entire huge dining room, no one spoke except for the sound of eating ping-pong.

　　The admiral stood there with a smile in his eyes and a hint of sadness.

　　He nodded to an officer beside him, who also bowed slightly, commanding a dozen soldiers, holding white papers, walking around each table and placing them in front of each soldier.

　　When everyone saw the blank paper and pen, they were all stunned.

　　But soon, someone realized something.

　　Some people smiled and sighed, and some people shook their heads, without a trace of complaint on their faces, just picked up the pen and began to write what they wanted to write.

　　Soon everyone wrote it, and the papers were taken back together.

　　After doing all this, the admiral bent directly to everyone in front of him, bowed at ninety degrees, and when he raised his head again, his eyes were already red.

　　"Thank you, my dear soldiers!"