Chapter 64 Cremation(18)

As Menglian expected, Jurengong was willing to pay money and food.Old Zheng was very afraid of talking to Ju Rengong, because Ju Rengong's words often contained words from the book, which made him baffled.Moreover, this time, he was the one who advised Jurengong and taught Jurengong how to break the banknotes. His heart was not at all as calm as when he came here to report "15 tans of sorghum was collected this year".He almost doubted that he really had the guts to speak out.Besides, he knew that there were always people in the courtyard watching Ju Rengong; even those who did odd jobs for Ju Rengong were detectives sent by the enemy.If they listened to his words, he knew that his head would not be very stable on the neck.

Juren is reviewing official documents.He hated to look at them, but the Japanese whip - invisible - was always behind his back, and he didn't dare to be too lazy.None of the content of those official documents is beneficial to the Chinese, such as paying food, drawing young men, controlling supplies, using counterfeit currency... He knows how many people can be killed by his pen, but he has no way to disapprove-his only His task is to approve all murder and arson for the Japanese.He can't look at things from the standpoint of the nation, but he knows the horror of karma.He has entered the examination room and achieved fame at a very young age. He knows that half of it comes from learning, and half comes from the yin merits of his ancestors.When he was sitting in a prison-like study and writing papers, he seemed to see several white-bearded old men smiling at him benevolently—so, he was awarded Juren.Now, under his pen, he sees many people without heads or with a blood hole in their heads.He dared not write any more.But he had to write.In order to maintain his life and property, he must forget about those dead ghosts.He must stop being superstitious!He wrote down the comments, signed them and stamped them, feeling a little happier in his heart. "Whatever it is, one thing is one thing after approval!" He told himself.

Lao Zheng came just in time.Ju Rengong happened to read an official document in which the Japanese wanted "female nurses"—Wencheng must send at least 120 "female nurses" to various military camps.Looking at this official document, he thought of Meng Lian who had just had a quarrel.He would never teach his own daughter to accompany wine, but he had to send other people's daughters to the military camp.He saw a group of female ghosts sticking out their tongues and bleeding from their lower bodies!He closed his eyes, looking forward to seeing those white-bearded old men who used to protect him in the examination room.I did not see it.

Opening his eyes, he saw Lao Zheng.He pushed the paper aside.Lao Zheng glanced at the people in the courtyard, and at Jurengong, and it was very difficult, intermittently, to explain the purpose of his visit.Jurengong's small eyeballs only rolled around twice before nodding.Glancing at the courtyard, the hot air from his mouth blew on Old Zheng's ears; "We want no one to offend!" Old Zheng didn't want to chirp more.He resigned to the Juren Announcement.As if he was reluctant to part with it, the Jurengong sent him to the courtyard with a hookah. Seeing Lao Zheng go out, Ju Rengong felt a lot more relaxed.Who does he want to talk to again.In his heart covered with shame and filth, he now found a little light, like a broken house, ugly though, but the holes in the roof let in some moonlight.Shame and filth are best buried in the heart, like a dead person must be placed in a coffin.However, the light must shine out.He longed to have a heart-to-heart talk with someone, to radiate the little light he had just found.

Who is there to talk to?Only Menglian.But Meng Lian was hardly his daughter anymore.His mouth can't talk to her.His "self-cultivation" put him in a disadvantageous position; she dared to speak willfully, but he didn't dare.However, he had to go to her and say a few intimate words to her; if he didn't say anything, his heart would explode from depression, like a child blowing up a balloon.His feet could not help but go to her room.No matter what she said, he had to speak out what was in his heart so that he could teach himself to be a little bit human. Meng Lian was crawling on the small table to write a letter.She didn't have to look up to know who had come in; she recognized his footsteps—a kind of light, short, and not fast footsteps, as if they were exerting force with only the flesh on the soles of their feet.Therefore, she did not look up.Jurengong stopped in his tracks.From the chest to the throat, there was a sudden dry tightening, and he wanted to turn his head and walk away.Her indifference was intolerable.However, he didn't move.As if choking on food, he swallowed a big breath.He looks at her.Her forehead was barely visible, he saw only her cheekbones and cheeks—so thin and pale in her cheeks that his anger and disgust began to give way to love and sympathy.It seemed that he hadn't seen her for many days, as if he saw her so haggard for the first time.She was not only his daughter, but a daughter who should be loved and loved.He felt a little sorry for her.Where do I feel sorry for her?He didn't want to think about it.Because, if he was going to think what she thought—what a traitor, what a traitor—he would no longer be able to defend himself, would no longer be able to live.He must deceive himself in order to survive.He wanted his daughter to understand this.

"Menglian!" he called in a low voice. "Huh?" Her pen pointed upwards, and she pressed the paper with her left hand, as if she knew he was coming, and as if she had just woken up from a dream, she made a noise.There was a very tired look in her eyes, and the frowning showed that although she was tired, she was still unconvinced, and she could still resist him at any time.Her upper lip turned up a little, revealing two or three small teeth; her teeth seemed not to be as white as they used to be. He walked over to her side.She didn't change her posture, she just lowered her eyes and fixed them on the letter paper.

"Menglian!" Jurengong put down the hookah and moved a chair by himself—the posture was extremely unnatural, as unnatural as a fat boy of three or four years old holding a doll. Meng Lian didn't show any expression. She turned over the letter paper and put the pen in the cap. "Meng Lian! Lao Zheng has gone to pay money and food!" The light in his heart radiated out, as happy as spitting out a fishbone. She put her hands on her neck, turned her face up, and said "hmm" again. "Look, Meng Lian, I want no one to offend!" He happily expressed his philosophy.

"Perfunctory in every way?" Meng Lian's words were like a sharp knife slashing on tofu.Jurengong is indeed like tofu, he accepted the knife softly, and did not make the blade emit sparks. "Then what can be done?" Ju Rengong sighed. "Is our life that important?" Yes, she knew, life is really important.Before the Anti-Japanese War, because she was so pampered, and because of her nature of loving flowers and grass, she never even liked to say the word "death".Not out of superstition, but she thought that the word "death" was too far away from her; who can look at a lovely world, where the birds are singing and the water is flowing, and suddenly think of death?But the world has changed, she saw death, all kinds of death, death uglier than nightmares.She knew death.She felt that death in this age was not unusual at all, and it was inevitable for everyone.Seeing this clearly, she often thought of death, and those who dared not die seemed unworthy of living in war.War is simply survival.Her thoughts, which used to be so slight and superficial, have been tempered by the war to be as big and heavy as life.She had to think of life and death often, because water, fire, knives, and guns were right in front of her eyes.

Jurengong didn't want to talk any more.He regretted why he came to talk to his daughter just now.My daughter's eyes are from life to death, but his eyes are slowly and slowly, like a beggar picking up things on a garbage dump, looking at each piece carefully, as long as he sees a piece of coal with a little bit of black, There is hope that the fire can be rekindled to keep warm.Perfunctory, perfunctory in every way, is indeed his philosophy; and, in his opinion, the philosophy most applicable to troubled times.Feel this way, this way, here and there—he thought—and you’ll find your head still on your neck!This is called "consistent"!Menglian can't understand this consistent way.She is young and naive.He didn't want to talk to her any more.

However, he refused to go away.It was so easy to sit with her—she was neither silent nor stomping her feet in anger—he had to be patient for a while before she could understand him a little more.He is a cultivated person.Even if she didn't like hearing what he said, he had to say it—knew it! "Look, Meng Lian," he lowered his voice very low: "This is not the first time! Two or three times, I have met people sent by the government! It's very risky! So, even you don't want to tell We are not to offend in every aspect; whichever side wins, we have to treat us differently! I hope that the war will be over early, and I will be able to enter the coffin safely! Menglian, you have to understand me, our grandfather The two are..." He couldn't continue.

Meng Lian had a lot to say, but she was unwilling to speak.She hated her father's indifferent objectivity and lack of chastity, but quickly put an end to this boredom and distress, she seemed to have to show some pity for him!She forced a smile.