Chapter 34 33

Ruixuan thought that since it took so long for the North China government to come into being, it must have some people he didn't know, so as to show that the government had indeed changed a bit.Unexpectedly, the characters in it are the group of warlords and bureaucrats that he is familiar with and that he hates.From this point of view, he has seen clearly that the Japanese have absolutely no sincerity in fulfilling those nice slogans and slogans.Only despicable and incompetent people can suit their taste, because they regard the Chinese as only fit to teach foolish men and women who are ruled by corrupt officials-or pigs and dogs!

Looking at the list of government personnel in the newspaper, his chest was filled with panic.He doesn't understand why there are so many people in China who are willing to be lackeys!Where is this wrong?Yes, history, culture, era, education, environment, politics, society, national character, personal ambition... can all be explained, but no explanation can explain the shame of this foreigner seeking glory!In fact, they can't, but in name they do represent the people of North China; the actions of a few of them have taught the people of North China to lose their "human" brilliance!

He hates this group of people, he curses their names and existence! However, right after that, he also thought of Ruifeng, Dongyang, and Guan Xiaohe.The status of these three little ghosts is much lower than that of the people in the puppet government, but their psychology and aspirations are exactly the same as those of the big traitors.Who dares to say that Ruifeng will not be able to supervise education?Who dares to say that Guan Xiaohe will not be the Chief Financial Officer?Thinking about it this way, he figured it out: If the sages are the accumulation of moral cultivation, the traitors are just the opposite—the reduction of moral cultivation.Sages are positive, and traitors are negative.Superficial, stupid, and boring, like Ruifeng and Xiaohe, are exactly what the Japanese like, because they are "negative" numbers.The Japanese like them, just as the Japanese like Chinese opium smokers.

Thinking of this, he also came up with a way to deal with "negative numbers".kill!Since they are negative numbers, they have absolutely no shame.They will never be moved by anything moral or just; they are only afraid of death.Killing is the easiest way to deal with them, just as the locust plague can only be eradicated by killing the locusts.Who is going to kill them?Everyone in North China, because everyone has been implicated by them, has lost their personality along with them.Killing them and killing the Japanese is the unshirkable responsibility of every good citizen! However, he couldn't control his younger brother!Don't talk about killing him, he won't even beat his second child!If the second child helps the Japanese, he fulfills the second child!He has the same crime as the second child: the second child is traitorous, and the eldest brother will not interfere with traitors!He doesn't interfere with the second child, and the people of the whole North China don't interfere with the traitors of the puppet government. North China is like a dead sea that doesn't move, and the stench will only evaporate!Thinking of this, he smiled helplessly.Everything is negative - the puppet government, Ruifeng, Xiaohe, those honest people who dare not punish rape, and himself!He can only "laugh" at himself, because his existence is already negative!

The assembly and parade celebrating the fall of Nanjing were more lively than the previous celebrations.Ruixuan's face was blue and red, listening to the noise and gongs and drums of beggars and drummers on the street in the room.He is sad.But he no longer wants any resistance in Tiananmen or anywhere—everything is negative!Seeing his own futility and incapacity, he finds it inconvenient to blame others.The only place where he can forgive himself is the tiredness of his family, so, of course, even the traitors are a little "tired" and can be forgiven!The one who forgives himself the most is the one who is the least promising!

However, he soon gave up this attitude of contempt for himself and everyone else, and he heard Generalissimo Chiang's declaration to continue the war of resistance.This declaration surprised the most belligerent Japanese, made the traitors feel cold, and made Ruixuan puff up his chest again.No!He can't pretend to be a negative number and give up on himself.Others, because the central government continued the war of resistance, would flee from Beiping to serve the country.The central government, he thought, would definitely send people to comfort the people and punish the traitors!When he was happy, his imagination doubled, and he even thought that the third child would sneak back to do the task of punishing traitors or other important tasks!How exciting it would be, how legendary it would be, if he could see the third child again!

Ruixuan, since he is a Chinese intellectual, does not ask God or God to help himself and his country.He only felt that continuing the war of resistance was China's only hope.He didn't know the difference in military power between China and Japan, and he almost didn't want to know.Patriotism has now become his religious belief. He believes that China must have hope, as long as we are willing to resist aggression. When he went to see Mr. Qian, he was willing to say everything in his heart in one go.The fall of Nanjing was like the curtain falling on the stage, and a battle came to an end.But the war has not stopped, just as the curtain has fallen, it will be drawn again.He has no way of guessing how much suffering the government that continues to resist the war and the soldiers and civilians who are loyal to the country will suffer and what they will do.He would like to explain himself clearly when this is about to open again: his future suffering will be no less or lesser than others, although he cannot carry a gun to the front to kill the enemy, or go to the rear to be a righteous citizen.He decided: in the fallen city, he must not bow his knees to the enemy because of being a filial son; he would rather lose his head than give up kneeling.This is not an easy thing, like falling into the sea and refusing to drink water.However, he is very determined, no matter how much suffering he suffers, he will struggle until the time when the national flag is seen again in Beiping City!Since the third child is not at home, he has no choice but to tell Mr. Qian about this decision; only by explaining clearly to a friend who thinks highly of him and believes in him, can he start to do things according to plan and earn money; otherwise , he feels that working to earn money is as shameful as surrendering.

On the day when the news of the fall of Nanjing came, Mr. Qian decided to get out of bed and try to walk a few steps.The injuries on his body have almost healed, and a little flesh has grown on his face. Although his mouth is still sunken, the hole on his cheek is much smaller.Having not shaved for many days, he has grown a soft and black beard, which makes him more like a poet.He was very worried about his leg.Both legs and wrists are often swollen and sore.On this day, he felt very energetic and his legs and wrists were not swollen, so he decided to get out of bed and give it a try.He was very afraid that his legs were injured internally and he would never be able to walk!He didn't tell his daughter-in-law for fear that she would hinder him.Sitting up gently, he put his legs down; when he lowered his head, he realized that there were no shoes on the ground.Should I call the young lady to find shoes for me?While hesitating, he heard the sound of the four big mothers' big cotton shoes falling down.

"Coming? Big Four Mom?" He asked very kindly. "Come on!" The four mothers agreed in the courtyard. "Don't mention it, I got angry with that old thing again!" "It's over seventy, why are you still getting angry!" Mr. Qian was in a particularly good spirits, and deliberately found something to say. "Look," she was still outside the window, refusing to come in, probably to teach the young mistress to hear: "He just came back from the outside, pouted his mouth, said that Nanjing was lost, and was so angry that he didn't say anything. Eat, don't talk about drinking! I'm not guarding Nanjing, why lose my temper with me, that old bastard!"

Mr. Qian only heard "Nanjing is lost," and didn't listen any further.With bare soles, his feet hit the ground.He was eager to stand up, as if he had to stand up when he heard that Nanjing had fallen.Just as part of his foot touched the ground, his ankle was as limp as a broken sorghum stick, and he fell completely to the ground.The blow almost knocked him unconscious.After lying on the cold ground for a long time, he finally recovered.His legs and wrists became numb, sore, and excruciatingly painful.He bit his lip, not humming.The pain caused beads of sweat the size of soybeans to appear on his head, but he still clenched his remaining teeth, refusing to cry out.He struggled to sit up, hugging his feet.He was in pain, but he paid more attention to whether his feet were numb from being useless for a long time, or whether he was injured by the Japanese and could no longer walk.He was eager to know the difference, because he had to have two moving legs in order to fight the Japanese desperately.Holding on to the edge of the bed, he stood up again with a cruel heart, as if a million thin needles were piercing his leg wrists.He was sweating more.But he stood still.He struggled, wanting to stand for a while, but his eyes darkened, and he lay on the bed.After lying down like this for a long time, he slowly climbed onto the bed and lay down.His feet still hurt, but he believed that as long as he moved slowly, he would still be able to walk, because he had been able to stand for a while just now.He closed his eyes.There are only two things that come and go in his mind, the fall of Nanjing and the pain in his feet.

Slowly, his feet seemed to lose feeling again, neither pain nor numbness.He felt as if he had no feet.He quickly curled up his legs and touched them with his hands; he did have feet, a complete pair of feet.He smiled to himself.As long as he has feet to walk on, he can do many things.That had something to do with the fall of Nanjing and the death of Meng Shi Zhongshi and his wife. He began to think from the beginning.He should quickly decide on tomorrow's plan, but it seems to have become a habit. He has to think about the past thing again, so that he can feel happy in his heart and think about tomorrow's things in an orderly manner.He remembered the day of his arrest.As soon as he closed his eyes, Inspector Bai, Guan Xiaohe, the military police, his wife, and Meng Shi all stood in front of him as they were that day.He even remembered the big okra at the bottom of the wall.Following the military police, he walked to an alley near the Xidan shopping mall.He should know what kind of alley it is, but he hasn't remembered it until now.In a small dead-end alley in the alley, there is a small door.He was brought in.A large courtyard, a row of north houses has more than ten rooms, like a barracks, and a row of south houses has seven or eight rooms, which looks like a converted stable.The courtyard is made of concrete, very flat, like a small playground.As soon as he entered the door, he heard someone screaming in the south room.He was sweating profusely when he walked, but when he heard the scream, he immediately felt a chill all over his body.He stood there instinctively, feeling the danger instinctively like cattle and sheep approaching the slaughterhouse.The gendarmes gave him a push, and he went on.He shook his head and raised his head. "At most it's a death!" he muttered. In a north room at the far end, a Japanese military police searched him.He only wore such a trousers jacket, a big shirt, and a shoe, nothing else.After the inspection, he was taken to the second north room from the east.Here, a Japanese who can speak Chinese asked his name, place of origin, age, occupation, etc., and registered them on the card.When he replied that he had no occupation, the man bit the pen in his mouth and looked at him carefully for a while.This is a thin, bluish-faced man.He felt that this thin man might not be very fierce, so he generously taught him to look at it carefully.The man took the pen out of his mouth, still staring at him, and asked again: "What crime?" He really didn't know what crime he had committed.Like laughing at his friends on weekdays, he smiled innocently, then shook his head.Before his head stopped, the thin man stood up very quickly like a hungry wolf, and gave him a mouth very quickly.He spat out a tooth.The thin man, who was still standing there, with a layer of frost on his pale face, asked again, "What crime did you commit?" His anger held back the pain, very peacefully and arrogantly, he said word by word: "I don't know!" It was another mouth, which made him crooked.He wanted to scold that person loudly, he wanted to question whether he had the right to beat someone, and why he beat someone.But he remembered that it was the Japanese in front of him.If the Japanese were rational, they would not have attacked China.Therefore, he would not say anything; why bother with a beast.He should have said at least: "I don't know why you have arrested me. I should ask you what crime I have committed!" But even this he did not bother to say.Looking at the blood on the lapel, he closed his eyes and said in his heart, "Hit it! You can break my face, but not my heart!" The thin Japanese man took a deep breath and changed his words: "Are you a criminal or not?" With this sentence, his hands adjusted the distance again; if he got a "no" or a shake of his head.He's going to have the most powerful mouth ever again. He understood the other party's malice, but instead he was overwhelmed.Swallowing bloody saliva, he spread his feet apart to stand more firmly.He decides not to speak anymore, but prepares to be beaten.He sees clearly: the other party's ability is only to beat people, and he has regarded it as unreasonable to beat people since he was a child. So, besides preparing to be beaten, what better way does he have?Besides, he never dreamed in his life that he would be punished for state and military affairs; today, being treated like this, he felt great pain, but in the pain he also felt the sudden glory.He gritted his teeth, ready to endure more pain, in order to get more glory! The palm hit his face again, and it was a series of dozens of palms.He didn't say a word, he just wanted to use the stability of his body to resist mentally.The beating man smiled slightly, as if laughing at his stupidity.Slowly, his neck lost strength; slowly, his legs softened; he moved.His open mouth made him swing sideways like a tumbler.The beater laughed out loud—beating is not his job, but a religious and educational expression; he appreciates his ability to fight, his ability to fight, his willingness to fight, and his victory.The beaten man lowered his head, the beating man changed his tactics, and suddenly punched the prisoner in the right rib, and the beaten man fell to the ground.The beating man stopped laughing, and looked intently at the pile of lifeless flesh in his fifties on the ground. In the lights, he remembered, he was packed into a big car.Because his face was very swollen, it was difficult for him to open his eyes.At the same time, he didn't bother to open his eyes to see anything.When the car moved, his body moved accordingly, and he was awake for a while, and unconscious for a while, but he always knew that he was shaking in something—he felt that it was not a car, but a boat in the wind and waves.Slowly, the cool wind woke him up completely.Through the gaps in his eyelids, he saw the lights outside the car, and ran back one after another.He felt dizzy and closed his eyes.He didn't want to think about anything.His wife and children, poems and paintings, flowers and plants, and old wine, all seem to have never been his.On weekdays, when he reads Tao's poems, or when he wants to write a poem, he often feels that his wife, children, broken jars and jars are obstacles and burdens, and poetry is between the breeze, the moon and the mountains and rivers. of.When he thinks about poetry, his mind melts into some kind of abstract universe; there, even the most beautiful mountains, rivers, flowers and moons are just temporary, rough things that can limit his thoughts.What he pursues is not just a beautiful phenomenon, but a bit of breath and rhythm in the universe.He wants to remove all obstacles, and dissolve himself between the breath and the rhythm, making himself into wordless music.Really, he'd never been able to put that feeling into words.Words were not enough for him; as soon as he found words, he immediately restricted his mind!Words cannot fly with his heart, rippling in the invisible joy of the universe, but can only fall on paper.However, when he thinks like this, even though he can't write poems, he can still get some happiness.This happiness does not reside in any material or tangible things, but in a piece of ethereal, as lively and lovely as green waves, but with a little more freedom and beauty.The green waves will only flow into the sea, but his heart will fly into every star.At such times, he completely forgot about his physical body; if he accidentally touched his clothes or his body, he would suddenly tremble, as if frightened. Now, he closed his eyes, unwilling to think about anything.Indeed, the first thing he thought of was: "Probably go and shoot him!" But just as he thought of this, he closed his eyes tighter and asked himself, "Are you afraid? Are you afraid?" Immediately afterwards, he said Stop thinking about it, and wish to forget yourself and everything like when you compose a poem. "What is death!" he chewed on this sentence.After staying for a while, he changed the sentence again: "Death means melting! Melting!" He felt a little happy in his heart.His face and body were still in pain, but the little joy in his heart taught him to despise the pain and forget himself.After staying for a while, after a while of confusion, he suddenly remembered: what taught him to "transform" was not poetry, but some abstract things in the world; The highest peace and tranquility is to transform oneself into a strong spirit to resist the evil force.He can't just seek "transformation", but must resist and fight.If in the past he wanted to be transformed into the sweet spring of the universe, now he must be transformed into blood, into the spirit of loyalty; in the past, it was expected but not available, but now it is obtained immediately after seeking benevolence; in the past, it was heaven. Yes, what is now belongs to the human world.Yes, he must throw his flesh on the enemy, and end this body with bravery and justice!A hot breath filled his chest, and he laughed. The car stopped.He didn't know where it was, and he didn't bother to take a closer look.There is no need to choose a place for martyrdom.He only remembered that it was a building, as if it looked like a school.He walked very slowly because of the chains on his ankles.He didn't know why the enemy was so worried about him, and would definitely put him in shackles, unless it was intentional to add more pain to him.Yes, the enemy is the enemy, if the enemy can have a little bit of humanity, how can they make war?He walked slowly and was beaten again.Confused, unable to distinguish whether it was the pain from the shackles or the pain from the beating, he was thrown into a room without lights.He fell and was hitting someone on top of him.The people below cursed.He struggled, the people below pushed and shoved, and before long, his body hit the ground.The man didn't scold anymore, and he didn't say a word; the ground was bare, not even a blade of grass, and he just fell asleep like that. The next day was fine, except for two more people in the house.He didn't care to see who the people in the same room were, and he didn't care to see what the room looked like.His face was swollen and swollen, his teeth hadn't been brushed, his face hadn't been washed, and there was no place on his body that was not uncomfortable.At about ten o'clock in the morning, someone brought a rice ball and a bowl of boiling water.He drank the water without touching the rice.He closed his eyes, stretched his legs, and leaned his back against the wall, waiting to die.He only wanted to die quickly, and he didn't have the heart to see his companions in the house. The third day was fine.He is angry.He began to understand: a person who has lost his country can't even ask for death.The enemy is willing to spend a bullet, only a bullet; otherwise they will teach you to rot there alive.He opened his eyes.The room was small, with nothing in it except a small window in one wall, through which a very bright light came in.The window rails are a few iron bars.In the middle of the room lay a man in his forties, probably the man he had fallen on top of.The man's face was covered with streaks of congealed blood, like streaks of peeling paint; he was lying on his back with his legs curled up and his arms outstretched, with his eyes closed.Opposite him sat a young man and a woman, tightly squeezed together; the man was not very handsome, but the woman was pretty; the man raised his head to look at the ceiling, and did not move for a long time; the woman Holding the man's arm with one hand, pressing his knee with the other, his eyes - a pair of beautiful eyes - blinked vigorously, as if suffering the greatest fright.Seeing them, he forgot his determination to die.He opened his mouth to talk to them.However, he opened his mouth and forgot the words, and he felt confused for a while.The back of his head throbbed.He closed his eyes and collected himself.When he opened his eyes again, his lips moved.In a low voice and sincerely, he asked the two young men: "What are you all for?" As if startled, the young man looked away from the ceiling.The woman began to look around with her beautiful eyes, as if looking for something scary. "We—" the man patted the woman.The woman leaned closer to him. "You're looking for a fight! Don't talk!" said the lying man.After saying this, he seemed to have forgotten his hand; when he moved his hand, he twisted his eyes and nose together in pain, and shook his head left and right: "Ouch! Ouch!" Can't stop crying. "Ouch! They hanged me for three hours and my wrist broke! Broken!" The woman hid her face completely in the man's arms.The young man swallowed a big mouthful of saliva. There seemed to be movement outside the house, and the sound of heavy leather shoes rang in the corridor.The middle-aged man sat up suddenly, with an angry light in his eyes, "I..." he wanted to shout loudly. His hand quickly covered the middle-aged man's mouth.The middle-aged man's mouth was still moving, and hot air was blowing against his palm. "I shout, call the beasts!" The middle-aged man said struggling. He pushed the middle-aged man down.There was no sound in the room, and the leather shoes in the corridor were still ringing. Using the lowest voice, he asked clearly: that middle-aged man didn't know what crime he had committed, it was just because he looked like another person.The Japanese did not catch the other man, but caught him and taught him to take the blame for the other man; when he refused, the Japanese hung him for three o'clock and broke his wrist. The young couple didn't know what crime they committed, but they were caught by the Japanese from the tram.They are classmates and lovers.They have not yet been tried, so they are more afraid; they know that if they are tried, they will be punished. After hearing about their "crime" process, the first thing that came to his mind was to rescue them.However, looking at the shackles on his feet, he laughed dumbly and stopped talking.Staring blankly at the pair of youths, he thought of his son.In terms of appearance, that male student didn't look like Meng Shi and Zhong Shi at all, but in terms of something abstract, the more he looked, the more the young man looked like his own son.He wanted to comfort his son a few words.After staying for a while, he felt that he didn't look like his son at all.His son, Nakaishi, would smash his own body and the Japanese's body together into a meat paste.His son will always live in the hearts of the nation and in the hymns of praise; what about this young man?This young man probably only enjoys a gentle life with his lover, right?He said at once: "Stand up! Don't be afraid! We shall all die, but hard! Do you hear me?" His voice was very low, as if talking to himself.The young man just rolled his eyes at him. That night, the door opened and an enemy soldier came in with a flashlight.With a flashlight, he pulled the girl up.She screamed.The male student stood up abruptly, was punched crookedly by the enemy soldier, and nestled against the corner of the wall.The enemy soldiers pulled her out.She struggles.Another enemy soldier came in.Take her away. The young man chased outside, and the door closed on his face.Leaning against the door, he stood there blankly. In the distance, a woman's sharp cry pierced in like a needle point, as if carrying a little light. The woman stopped barking.The young man wept softly. He wanted to stand up and hold the young man's hand.But his ankle was numb and he couldn't stand up.He wanted to comfort the young man, but his tongue seemed to be numb.He stared into the darkness.He suddenly thought: "I can't die! I can't die! I have to live, get out of here, how they kill us, how I want to kill them! I want to live for vendetta!" It was almost dawn, and there was some light on the iron railing like a spider's web quivering.Looking at the small window, he trembled in his heart, the morning breeze was very cold.He looked forward to the dawn soon, as if he could go out as soon as it was dawn.He looked around for the young man, but couldn't see him.He would like to tell young people the words in his heart: "I often see faith, hope, and love outside Christian churches. I don't quite understand the meaning of those three words. Today, I understand: believe in your own strength, I hope you will not Die, love your country!" Just as he was thinking, the door opened, and the girl was thrown in like a dead dog. There was a burst of redness on the small window, and the light came in tremblingly. The woman's lower body was bare, and her upper body was only wearing a close-fitting white waistcoat.She can't move anymore.The blood has dried on her thigh. The young man took off his gown, covered her legs, and then called out in a low voice, "Cuiying! Cuiying!" She didn't move or make a sound.He took her hand—it was cold!He put his mouth on her ear and called: "Cuiying! Cuiying!" She didn't move.She had been dead for over an hour. The young man stopped barking and didn't move her.Putting his hands in his trouser pockets, he stood dumbfounded towards the small window.The sun was already up, and the iron bars on the little windows—newly installed—were shining.The young man stood motionless, nodded his head, and looked at the three or four shiny iron bars.He stood like this for more than half an hour.Suddenly he jumped up, grasped the window sill with his hands, and wanted to hit his head on the iron bars.His head failed to reach the iron bars.He jumped down in great disappointment. He—Mr. Qian—watched blankly, unable to figure out whether the young man wanted to run away or commit suicide. The young man turned around and looked at the girl's body.Watching and watching, hot tears fell down one after another.While weeping, he backed away; when he had retreated a considerable distance, he was about to jump forward again, probably trying to hit his head against the wall. "What are you doing?" He—Old Man Qian—had a drink. The young man froze. "If she dies, will you die too? Who will take revenge? Young people, grow some bones! Revenge! Revenge!" The young man put his hands in his trouser pockets again and stared blankly.After being stunned for a long time, he nodded to the dead body.Then, he gently and gently hugged her and whispered a few words into her ear.Putting her in the corner, he nodded to Mr. Qian again, as if accepting the old man's advice. At this moment, the door opened, and an enemy soldier walked in together with a presumably doctor.The doctor looked at the dead body, took out a paper slip with a form printed on it, and taught the young man to sign. "Infectious disease!" The doctor said in Chinese: "You sign!" He handed the young man a number one Parker pen.The young man bit his lip, refusing to accept the pen.Mr. Qian coughed and gave him a look.The youth signed it. The doctor carefully put the slip in the bag, and went to see the middle-aged man who hadn't made a sound all night.The middle-aged man groaned twice, but did not open his eyes; he was an honest man, as if he refused to hum two more in his last breath, swallowing the grievance and pain when he was unconscious, Refusing to vent; he is the most peaceful Chinese in the world.The doctor blinked his eyes a few times proudly, and then politely said to the enemy soldier: "Disinfect!" The enemy soldier dragged the middle-aged man who was still alive. The doctor and two living people were left in the room, and the doctor seemed to have no idea how to deal with it; rubbing his hands, he took two breaths; then he bowed deeply, went out, and locked the door behind him. The young man trembled all over, his legs went limp, and he squatted on the ground. "It's an infectious disease!" the old man whispered. "The Japanese are germs! If you don't get infected, try to get out; the most worthless people want to commit suicide!" The door opened again, and a Japanese soldier brought the girl's clothes and threw them to the young man. "You, her, go!" The young man threw his clothes on the ground and stood up like a hungry wolf.Mr. Qian coughed again and said "Go!" Reluctantly, the young man put his clothes on the dead body and hugged her.The enemy soldier said: "There is a car outside! Tell others, kill the head! Kill the head!" The young man hugged the dead body and stood beside Mr. Qian, as if he wanted to say something.The old man lowered his head. The young man walked out slowly.