Chapter 49 Sixth, the empty sad wanderer

Half of the old house in my hometown collapsed, and my sister married to a remote mountainous area.A raped woman bears the crime that does not belong to her, and is despised by the villagers, so no one knows the specific address of her marriage, and can only point to the southeast. Before Liu Baiyuan looked for his sister, he went to Duhua Temple, and the paper figurine with the word "Double Happiness" was still there.He sat facing the paper figurine for a whole night.When the first ray of sunlight hit the window frame, he walked out of the Buddhist hall and headed towards the mountains in the southeast.

His shattered gums could not be restored, causing his whole face to be distorted and deformed. A few pieces of bone dregs under the facial skin were stuck in the nerves, causing his lower left eye to spasm from time to time, and the left eye kept crying. He has been to 67 villages in the mountainous area, and only two or three Gaofeng households have been spared, but five months have passed, and the figure of his sister still has not appeared. On June 10, 1933, Liu Baiyuan sat on a stone wall covered with sunset spots, wiped the tears from his left eye with a handkerchief, and gave up looking for it.

Maybe my sister never existed, she was just an opportunity for him to realize his own sins, and it was a gentle enlightenment from Buddha and Bodhisattva to himself.He shouted to the mountains: "Sister, take care!" When the echo disappeared, he went down the mountain. He wanted to rush back to Shanghai as quickly as possible, because he had a special feeling in the Sun Yat-sen Memorial Hall. Although he didn't know the specific meaning of the gold-encrusted seal characters, he won his respect. A month ago, he had decided to secretly protect Yang Xingfo. He still kept the business card with Qi Baishi's chrysanthemum printed on it. According to the address on the business card, he wrote a letter to Deng Lingling, saying that he was coming back soon, and in the letter he wrote about his experience for half a year.

On June 18, Liu Baiyuan returned to Alpe Road, and the fruit shop was still there. When he opened the door of the fruit shop, he saw Deng Lingling and Yang Xingfo walking out of the League office one after the other.What about Kuang Yimin? Seeing Yang Xingfo's small nose, Liu Baiyuan felt that his life had become solid.Protect his life with your own.I want Yang Xingfo to teach me to understand the detailed meaning of the six seal scripts on Sun Yat-sen Mausoleum—— Wearing a black suit and skirt, Deng Lingling helped Yang Xingfo hold the folder, looking confident and capable. She came over and saw me sitting in the fruit shop again, how would she react?Thinking of this, Liu Baiyuan took out a handkerchief to cover his twisted chin.But at this moment, four figures jumped out from the gate of the International Publications Exchange Office of Academia Sinica on Albert Road.

Out of professional instinct, Liu Baiyuan quickly counted the gunshots, ten in total.His handkerchief fell, and he realized that his ideal and the first woman in his life had disappeared in these ten strokes.Then he felt his eyes turn white, and his body dissolved in the air. When the fruit shop exploded, the four killers were 30 meters away from the fruit shop. After killing Yang Xingfo, they quickly lay down, obviously knowing the premeditation of the explosion. After the explosion stopped, only three of the four killers stood up from the ground. The killer who was still lying on the ground was dead, but there was no wound on his body.His name was Decheng, and a seven-inch flying knife was found in his chest, which puzzled all the forensic doctors.

Yang Xingfo's funeral was held on June 20, and there was heavy rain on that day. Soong Ching Ling made a speech: "These people and the thugs they hired thought that by force, kidnapping, torture and murder, they could smash the struggle for freedom. However, the struggle is not only far from being smashed, we must redouble our efforts until we achieve our goal. The goal." Mr. Lu Xun wrote a mourning poem: