Chapter 14 same heart

None of them wanted to be heroes.Age, knowledge, and ideals do not allow them to still indulge in the stories of "Wu Song Fights the Tiger" or "Going to the Meeting Single-handedly"; there was a time when they were indeed fascinated by such stories; The indifference, almost denying that this is his own experience, just like remembering that he stole a dime from his mother when he was young. None of them wanted to be traitors.Age, knowledge, and ideals do not allow them to kneel in front of anyone casually. However, they were trapped in the dead city.Between being a hero and a traitor, there is only a gap for them to put aside all loyalty and traitors, and bow their heads to be a walking corpse: eat and drink as usual, and drink two glasses of wine when they are extremely embarrassing. Sleepy head.It's easy, and it's almost safe.

Yes, there is indeed no way to get into this gap.In terms of strength, three people get together, but they can only lift one stone.What's the use of being able to throw a stone and just hit one enemy to death?Three people are absolutely no match for groups of tanks and heavy artillery.In terms of mentality, even if the three of them can plan a plan for salvation, the bayonet and pistol are always by their sides; the prisoner who is bound to the execution ground cannot use knowledge to save himself.It is simply impossible to imagine.Wang Wenyi is the strongest of the three.A year short of graduating from college; enemy fire shattered his dream of life.If he is willing to wait for the diploma and the title of bachelor, he must first admit that he is a subjugated slave.A slave bachelor may have the opportunity to study in Japan, when he has forgotten his ancestors and nation.He shattered a small mirror on the wall. The pair of big and bright eyes, the wide forehead, and the straight nose in the mirror will never be seen by him again until the day when the country is recovered.Forgot the motherland and nation?And forget yourself first!How can a man who is conquered by violence be a man?He doesn't want to be a hero, but only by sacrificing himself can he realize the responsibility given by this era.The significance of this era can only be explained with blood.

He found Fan Mingli and Wu Cong, both his classmates in the same grade but from different departments.Fan Mingli's physique was not as good as Wang Wenyi's, but he wasn't too weak either.The eyes are not clear and juicy, the lips are thick, honestly like a middle-aged teacher.Wu Cong is very thin, with a sallow face and narrow chest. He seems to have some lung disease; his eyes are bright and his voice is so loud that people can't bear to say that he is sick.His air was much more lively than his body. Is there a way?Wang Wenyi was not prepared to hope for any satisfactory answer.Instead, he wanted to speak out about his decision.

Fan Mingli drooped his eyelids and curled up the corners of his mouth slightly, as a sign that he was inconvenient to say anything. Shall we escape?Wu Cong tried to speak slowly, but his voice was not as loud as before, as if he was restrained by shame. escape?Wang Wenyi asked in a low voice, and then shook his head after a long pause: No, you can't escape!Where are you going?Why escape?Is this not our land?I also asked myself this question, Wu Cong's voice was a little higher, I don't have to run away.Here's what I thought: it's a pity we die here, and it's not doing any good.

Yes, we are highly educated, but unfortunately; the strength of three people is too small to be beneficial.Wang Wenyi nodded and said.Suddenly, he stood up and raised his voice like an orator thinking of some strong words: But, there is no class of subjugated slaves, and there is no difference between a college student and a rickshaw driver. There is no rank among those who are subjugated slaves, their lives are the same, and their blood is not high or low; when it comes to sacrificing for the country, whoever's blood is sprinkled on the ground is equally valuable.Whether to be patriotic or not is partly determined by knowledge and partly by emotion.When we repress our emotions in the duel for the survival of our nation, our knowledge becomes an instrument for our own selfish advantage.Protect yourself, at this time, there is no shame.Standing on the outside of the struggle, we lose the sympathy and empathy of the nation.To die is not just to be a hero; death is the duty of each of us, and there is no special honor.Those who want to steal life say that death is the easiest, and those who decide to sacrifice know the value of death.I will not run away, I will die here.The value of death is not determined by the size of the achievement, but by the will and reason of death.I understand what you mean!Fan Mingli's thick lips seemed to be moving with great difficulty.Death is not to end this life quickly, but to pass on the spirit of immortality.

Let me say it again, Wang Wenyi's broad forehead glowed a little bright red: I am not a hero, but I am honestly fulfilling the responsibility of the people.Heroists take the opportunity to show themselves, and what they do is to die and be buried with their compatriots without even a tombstone. Well, Wu Cong straightened up his narrow chest and said your way!I am willing to accompany you to die! Let's swear first! Both Wu and Fan also stood up. Wu Cong, Fan Mingli, and Wang Wenyi are willing to die for the country and fight for the eternal independence and freedom of the nation; the bodies and names of the three of us will be destroyed together, and the spirit, justice and peace will live forever in the world!

Forever in the world!Wu Fan responded in unison. A pure smile spreads on their faces, they feel that death is the sweetest, sacrifice is the most sublime beauty, and the blood in the whole body is overflowing with fragrance like nectar.They discussed the practical method calmly.The most difficult decision, death, has been decided. They no longer need to shout passionately, but must show the highest wisdom, and use wisdom with courage to walk on the road of eternal light.It was as if they heard subtle divine calls in their ears, and they were not afraid; their words had some of the most beautiful rhythms.As if responding to that call, the kagura of national revival trembled from the heartstrings.

At the mouth of Donkey's Alley, no matter winter or summer, there is always an old woman sitting.Dust didn't seem to have the guts to rush over, she was always so clean.Poverty has not conquered her, and in her eyes, which have sunken with age, there is always some kindness and kindness hidden deep in her eyes, and she has no choice but to reveal it to everyone.Her occupation is to mend worn-out shoes and socks for the poor; her eyesight is fine, but her hands are always trembling, and she can't do fine work.Her side job is to give a little smile to all passers-by, and for schoolboys, rickshaw drivers, remember who went south just now, or who didn't pass by here today, but went north when the sun was westward yesterday went.This side job is purely voluntary, and the only reward is that men and women of all ages call her a good mother.Some people say that her surname was originally Hao.

After the fall of the city, there was no sign of a good mother at the entrance of the alley for several days.Everyone didn't seem to notice this, because everyone didn't dare to come out; even if they had the courage to come out, who would care to pay attention to her: the country has been lost, so what is there to be surprised about the survival of an old mother? However, she was sitting there again.Everything was the same, but she could no longer greet people with a smile.It was still the same, but something was added: the flag she knew changed color, the people she knew were still doing their business, those who pulled carts, those who sold vegetables sold vegetables, but there was a film on their faces. ashamed.She hardly dared to greet them again.The boys and girls stopped going to school, walked around with their heads down, and stopped even singing the March of the Volunteers.There are still cars and horses on the street, but there is always the smell of going out of mourning. Although it is under the sun, it is obviously miserable and bleak.

After living for more than sixty years, she experienced many incidents and hardships, but never once did she feel so resentful like this time, resentment overwhelmed her happiness, as sad as pressing her hands on her chest in a dream.She saw groups of tanks running on the road, formations of planes whirling in the air, whole truckloads of us young men and women bound to the enemy camp to eat bullets, a large number of us strong men in their 30s and 40s were chained to these It's not enough to arouse her anger, if there is no word "Japan" under these things.After living for more than sixty years, she doesn't hold a grudge against anyone, except Japan.She is illiterate, has no knowledge beyond food, drink, marriage, clothing, housing, and national affairs, but she knows how to hate Japan.Japan has always been in people's mouths, in her ears, and in her heart, it has been lumped together for a long time, as if it is so hateful.There is no reason, no explanation, she hates Japan.Only when she hated Japan, she felt vaguely that she still knew what was good and she was not a beast who only cared about three meals a day.Now, those who fly all over the sky, those who run around, those who kill people, and those who set fire are all from Japan, and she is no longer allowed to say the word Japan aloud, and can only squeeze it out from the lips between her teeth.Like cattle and sheep shedding tears when they go to the slaughterhouse, she intuitively felt uneasy and uneasy.

What made her most unhappy was the soldier standing guard on the other side of the road.She wanted to be kind to everyone, but she couldn't smile and nod to this soldier.His long bayonet was always attached to the gun, and it shone white and cold in the autumn sun. His feet were so wide and heavy, as if he was only afraid that the ground would run away.That is our land; a good mother knows nothing else, but she knows whose land it is, as clearly as a red circle on a white cloth is not the Chinese flag.She couldn't bear to look at the road any more.But it was useless not to look at it, the bright white bayonet and the heavy feet always shone in her heart, pressing on her. She gradually felt a little strange: why didn't we beat him?Beating people was something she had always opposed, but now she felt it was right to beat that soldier, the Japanese soldier.Beat him, everyone not only didn't beat him, but avoided him!Our strong boys have no heart, no ambition, no humanity!If she had a son who was going to beat up the soldier opposite, she would be happy, even if both mother and son had their heads beheaded for this, it would still be happy. She didn't want to sit there anymore, but she couldn't bear to leave: What if someone came to beat that unsightly thing while she was leaving!She sat there longer, and the thing seemed to absorb her.He was like a bedbug, hateful, and how long she would like to meet before someone came to wipe him with his fingers!The vitality of the nation flowing in her blood, and the root of national freedom and self-reliance hidden in her heart may make her so angry and hopeful.What's the use of killing this soldier?She didn't know, and she didn't want to think about it.She just felt that having him there was a humiliation, and the shame had to be washed away.Just like a little girl knows how to be shy when the time comes, this old woman is shy because of nationality and country even though she can't even speak these two terms.Anyone who can come to kill or fight this soldier, she should call him a hero or she will call him a hero.The hero in her mind doesn't have to be someone with red beard and indigo face, but those men who come and go on the street, as long as he dares to deal with that soldier.In her heart, in Wang Wenyi's heart, in the hearts of all bloody people, although the knowledge and vocabulary are different, they will sing a song similar to this at this time: The milk of the country is equally warm and bright red in everyone's blood; everyone loves his country like a loving mother, the cradle of the nation, and the grave of the nation.To be driven out of the country is more miserable than beheading; to be a slave in the country, trembling for life, it is the soul that is tortured, ah, the soul is tortured! Waiting, waiting for the hero, the ordinary hero who knows how to do his duty.Ah, that soldier changed shifts again, coming and going, always so vicious.Ah, the brigade marched from south to north, and the bayonets were like forests, shining the whole street.Ah, the plane is overhead again, and the blood-red round lights are on the two wings, insulting the blue sky.Why isn't our hero here yet?Still not coming?The hope and prayer of the old mother is the voice of the whole nation, right? The old mother waited for many days, but the hero still hadn't arrived.But she was not discouraged, on the contrary, her hope was heightened, and she would ask everyone in a low voice: What's the matter with us?Some of the rickshaw drivers and small businessmen who knew how to read newspapers told her to give her some news.But those news were all made by the Japanese, either to capture here, or to hit somewhere.My good mother had never heard of those place names, but after hearing them, she seemed to understand: our land is really big!At the same time, she was even more looking forward to the realization of that matter: Why don't we go and beat him?Even if you kill one first?The tip of her needle followed the convenience of the wire and pointed to the side of the road.Good mother, be careful!People warn her.She rubbed her old eyes and said in a low voice: He doesn't understand our words, he is a devil! Good news!Wang Er, who was pulling the cart, took a pair of socks picked up from the garbage dump and asked his mother to tidy them up.Squatting next to her, he secretly said: Good mother, I pulled a cart to Dongcheng this morning, and I couldn't get through when I reached the fourth archway.I heard that our two boys burned all their bombs and killed five or six soldiers!Wang Er hurriedly tucked his provocative thumb into his cuff, glanced across the road, and put it back as soon as he touched the light of the bayonet.Neither of the boys took hold, and his voice was lower, but stronger.After eating, I went back again, and passing people was not allowed there!I heard that the two young men ran into a small butcher's shop, but they disappeared after they ran in.Good mother, you see, the butchers are really brave enough to let the two boys go!We have bones, good mother? The smile that the good mother hadn't used for a few days jumped from her heart to her face.If someone dares to hit that thing over there, I will also dare to help, believe it or not?Why don't I believe it?If I want a gun, I dare to go there!Good mother, don't be too busy, we will clean them up slowly!Once there is one person who is not afraid of death, then there will be ten, one hundred, one thousand, isn't it, right?It was very difficult for Wang Er to keep his voice down.You see, there are eels in wooden basins in the fish market, and one or two loaches must be placed in them.The eel is too lazy to move, and it will stink after a long time.The loach loves to move, which makes the eel have to stretch its waist.I would compare those two boys to our loaches. When they move, the big guys have to move.good mom? Who said no!I'm waiting here, maybe someone will beat him tomorrow, and as he writes, the good mother's needle points out again.If he falls there, I'll be happy to die!I can't teach the kid to keep it! The next day, the good mother came very early, and before she met her acquaintances, she had already handed her smile to the red Chaoyang. But until noon, there was no movement.Sooner or later it will come!she said to herself. It was almost time to pack up and go home, and here came a young man with big eyes, a broad forehead, and a high nose.He doesn't look like a poor man, but he has a pair of torn socks in his hand.The good mother was about to get the needle when the young man stopped her.I'll pick it up tomorrow. It's not busy. It's getting dark.go home?go together?Come, I'll take the little basket!They entered Donkey's Alley together, and the young man asked in a low voice, "Is there a hallway in this alley?" The good mother shook her head, and then looked at him carefully.After watching for a long time, she smiled slightly: I know you! how?The boy's eyes were frighteningly bright. You are a good guy!The good mother nodded in admiration.Let me tell you, the tenth gate on the south side of the road here has a back door, but it can't go through the hall, it's someone's house. The boy said nothing.The good mother slowly figured it out: OK!I want to know exactly when you will come, and I can entrust Li Wu, who dumps dirt, to open the door for you. The boy has not spoken yet. Your heart, my heart, are the same!The old mother looked up at him.What's the meaning? I don't understand!Good mother smiled.Are you a student?The young man nodded. Then you should understand my words.The good mother's face suddenly became very serious: tell me, when will you come tomorrow?I will not sell you!I will come at eight o'clock tomorrow morning! Is it when the apricot tea seller comes over on Thursday? good!The apricot tea seller is here, that door has to be opened! that is! Do you know what I'm going to do? Know! ah? Know!Your heart, my heart, are the same! The next day, my good mother arrived early.She sat there for like a year before she heard Thursday's sharp voice gradually approaching: Myolie tea.The good mother's hands trembled, and her eyes were fixed on the tip of the bayonet over there like a little white star.Apricot tea yo.Thursday was approaching her, and her eyes could hardly move, as if stuck to the point of a bayonet.Suddenly, like a black shadow, it flashed from the sidewalk to behind a willow tree by the side of the road, followed by a gunshot, one or two.The soldier fell to the ground.Sirens sounded from the south and the north.The black shadow flashed into the donkey alley.The soldiers who fell on the ground stood up and rushed across the road.The hillocks on the south and north also rushed to the alleys, like ants in battle, hurriedly passed a sentence, and rushed into the alley.The good mother stopped breathing.After waiting for a long time, all the soldiers came back without the boy. She took a breath, picked up the pair of socks tremblingly, and refused to lift her head again. It was just four o'clock, she wanted to pack up and go home, her heart was in a panic, thinking this way, the sock fetcher is here!She could hardly believe her eyes!After a while, she handed the socks to him.He squatted aside, looked at the socks, and asked in a low voice: Did I kill him this morning? The good mother shook her head slightly.He pretended to be dead, and got up after a while.vomit!Next time use the bomb!As he spoke, he took out a one-dollar bill: Mom and Li, five cents. Keep it, I don't want it!The good mother waved her hand.If you have a gun, give Wang Er one, and he will do it too. There are plenty of people, Mom! What's your last name? Temporarily without a name, the boy stood up, stuffed the socks and the money ticket in his pocket, and thought for a while: Ah, maybe he will never have a name!goodbye, mom!Hey, come back next time, be sure!The good mother's heart is no longer in a panic. The three of them sat together again, reporting work to each other, and planning their future plans. Fan Mingli's thick lips seemed to be thicker, adding to his air of silence and fortitude.Wu Cong's narrow chest seemed to be unable to contain the heat, his thin neck was straightened out, and his mouth was slightly open, like a crowing chicken.Unlike Fan Mingli, he can't hold back his complacency, the more he thinks about the achievements in the past two or three days, the happier he is.Wang Wenyi was neither proud nor disappointed, but criticized objectively: It doesn't matter whether we succeed or fail, the only good thing is to stir up the hearts of the undead.Our hearts, everyone's hearts, are not very different.We just did what we should do, and at best we took a step ahead.Well, let's discuss tomorrow's business; strike while the iron is hot, and teach that this city must become the grave of the enemy!