Chapter 27

  We trudged through the alley, and Yu Xiaoqing's small motorcade also stopped gloomily outside. We saw a scene that made us extremely surprised: Tang Ji and Hao Shouyi were sitting in the back seat of Yu Xiaoqing's car. Old Hao was leaning against the sky, with his head resting on the backrest, crying miserably. Tang Ji gently patted his shoulder, holding a handkerchief he wanted to give to Old Hao, but Old Hao had never used one before, and was accustomed to using his sleeves and hem instead.

  Hao Lao is here to die, he was just waiting outside a moment ago.

  The dragon muttered: "This old fool, how can he get along with that old rascal? Heaven and earth are going to be overturned." No one could answer him.

  Tang Ji rarely didn't look around, but instead focused on the pain of his peer beside him. This was another dialectical monster, he and Old Hao spoke in Shaanxi dialect, "......Don't worry about it, don't worry. Old fellow, old brother, a lifetime is just a snap of the fingers, what's there to not understand? You and I are just taking different rides, you took the ox cart, I took the car, but aren't we still people, from childhood to old age?"

  Hao Shouyi just lay there, originally wanting to cry less, but ended up crying more, "......Nothing can be done, nothing can be done."

  "Gain is luck, loss is fate. But it can also be said the other way around: gain is fate, loss is luck. Whether I gain or lose, whether I'm lucky or not... I won't say any more, the more I talk, the more you'll cry, just cry to your heart's content, I'll listen, but I don't want to accompany you in crying."

  "It's all gone. It's all gone. Everything is gone...... Thank you, thank you Vice Master."

  "I'll be damned," said Tong Ji.

  We want to leave here quickly, the dragon, not spicy, and little drunk may not know what happened, but with their instincts, they can smell the strange atmosphere. Although Yu Xiaoqing didn't catch up, no one stopped us either. When we reached the entrance of the alley, Hao Shouyi wiped his red and swollen eyes and caught up with us.

  "What's with you and that old monster, blabbering away? Do you want to be a disciple of Ah Yi or something?"

  Hao Shouyi said: "Don't say anything, don't say anything. He can speak our local dialect, I'll speak to him in our local dialect."

  "Not spicy, very curious, 'Are you crying?'"

  Hao the veterinarian said: "The old man is ill. Seeing a cat makes me want to cry, seeing a dog makes me want to cry, even the yellow earth has been buried here... seeing Leibao's thumping heart and snatching heaven and earth makes me want to cry... seeing all of you makes me want to cry."

  Don't be so bitter," he said, "don't cry over it."

  Hao the veterinarian swayed, and suddenly he slowly sat down against the wall. We thought he was exhausted, which wasn't a big deal to us, so we walked a few more steps before realizing something was wrong. Hao's eyes were murky and frightening, he looked around blankly at the ground, then touched the ground with his hand, dipped his finger in water and touched the air, then put his finger in his mouth to taste the air he had just touched. He stared at everything around him, including us. If you blindfolded an old dog that has lived on yellow soil its whole life and suddenly throw it into the mountains of western Yunnan, the dog would probably react like Hao too. Everything most important to it in life - sunlight, air, breathing, soil - had all changed.

  We went back to his side, puzzled and worried, though seemingly indifferent, actually concerned, waving fingers in front of him.

  Hao Shouyi muttered: "...... Yellow earth slope under heavy rain? How come the wind is so sweet?"

  "What's wrong? Have you gone crazy?"

  Hao Shouyi said: "...... Where am I?"

  Not spicy and excited, "Who am I? Hurry up and tell me, if you can't say it then you're an old tofu dreg."

  The old man replied: "You're not spicy at all! But where am I? Where is this place?"

  I didn't want to talk, in my eyes, a man over twenty had wrinkles on his face that were scary and deep. I stretched out two hands and smoothed out the wrinkles for him.

  Xiao Zui suddenly became impatient, "You all don't quarrel. Let Grandpa think for himself, it's better if he figures it out on his own."

  The dragon said: "Pfft, his old grandpa, he's a sixty-year-old big shot."

  I corrected him, "Fifty-seven."

  "Shut up."

  We closed our mouths and looked at an old man sitting there, thinking hard. He was less than sixty years old, but he looked like a hundred and twenty years old, and I tried to smooth out every wrinkle on his face - of course, it was in vain.

  Later we supported Old Hao and silently left this place. We came with great enthusiasm, but left like a defeated grandson.

  We threw down Yu Shi Zuo, but saw an old man who remembered us and himself, but lost the whole world. Hao Shou Yi recovered his memory in a few minutes, even forgetting that he had cried in front of Tang Ji.

  A broken-down truck stopped beside us, with Snake Butts sitting next to the driver, grabbing the horn and pressing it to death. Everything about Cannon Fodder is shabby, including the worst quality oil, which we were drowning in. They're all dead, they've all gotten on the truck, while I'm still under the truck, in the oil smoke. I tried my best to push Xiao Zui out of the oil smoke. I don't like this kind of farewell, I hate any form of farewell.

  I gaze at the South Heavenly Gate from the cannon's mouth. The South Heavenly Gate remains unchanged, still with its bright and dark thorns, visible and invisible ones. You can't conquer it if you're bewildered, so my mind isn't on the South Heavenly Gate at all. I use the back of my head to study death, while he studies the paws of dog meat.

  Yu Shi's attack was forced to be postponed indefinitely, so we are alive and living happily. If for the sake of comfort, both can be abandoned. The Japanese army must also be very happy because the endless bombardment has finally stopped.

  Hao Shouyi was wearing a lost and bewildered face, with two rolls of cloth stuffed up his nostrils, treating the snake's buttocks in the trench foot - hopefully not to amputate again. Mí Lóng pulled their new friend Collins over, got a water pipe, and they took turns sucking on it, entertaining themselves by getting choked until they were dizzy. Dòu Bǐng was washing a big basin of who-knows-whose clothes, but couldn't escape the calamity of being sprayed with mist and smoke by them from time to time. Lóu Mén Xīng got a charcoal basin, tied some broken tile pots with iron wire as handles, sometimes adding tea leaves, sometimes adding glutinous rice. Not spicy, Snake Buttocks had a humble and eager-to-learn expression, squatting beside him. Don't bother what they were brewing, anyway it was something that would never be done if there was anything important to do.

  Recently, I've been quite idle and leisurely strolling to the south mountain because that overly active soul between us has finally calmed down. I know Yu Xiaoqing and Meng Fan's brains are simultaneously fighting in his brain, but this time it seems like I won. I know he is following my footsteps, becoming one of us. Those scoundrels don't know what happened, but they can see his inaction with the back of their heads and smell his despair with their toes.

  I was still pretending to observe the South Gate with a telescope when a shoe suddenly hit my helmet. Such a rough move could only come from our team leader, who said: "Don't look at me with the back of your head!"

  I turned around in annoyance, "Who's like you, a monster with eyes on his navel..."

  The second shoe also flew over, "Don't turn around and look!" I figured out why people wear two shoes.

  I was stunned for a moment, kicked the two shoes back to him, then pulled the quilt from my bed and covered my head with it. Now my silhouette looks like a walking quilt to Lao Lai, and I grumbled under the quilt, looking at the South Gate with binoculars, "Is this okay? Nothing is better than being lazy, comfort breeds trouble. No one has seen you, now you're like a nine-headed snake, eight heads staring at yourself unable to pass. Why don't you go find something to do?"

  "Nothing to do."

  "Master Mai wants to show you the American Dragon Gate Formation. The whole nation is eager for you to take him hunting, he'll hunt rabbits, and you can shoot perhaps still not completely dead Japanese fugitives. The Mourning Star has brewed Ma Bang tea and invites you to drink..."

  The shoe that had just been kicked back flew over again, I turned around in anger, but immediately covered my head with the quilt again, because the second shoe also flew over anxiously. "Don't pretend to look at the South Heaven Gate! Why don't you take a broken telescope to watch Shi Lao Da move cow dung?!"

  I couldn't bear it anymore and picked up his shoe to throw back at him, "That's enough of you! You asked for it!"

  In this war of hurling anything in the room at each other, I had the upper hand because I was standing while he just lay there refusing to get up. But when he ran out of things to throw, he slapped the dog meat and shouted "Dog meat, come for me!" The dog meat was taken aback, but once it confirmed that this wasn't a joke, it charged at me.

  I'm shocked. What kind of world is this?

  I grabbed the quilt to resist the barking of dog meat, and crawled out of the bunker. Dog meat was more sensible than my captain, at least it didn't chase me anymore, so after I got up from the ground, I had the chance to throw the quilt back into the house, cursing as I threw: "You're blocking the cannon hole with a quilt! Can't you see the South Heaven Gate? Whether it's there or not has nothing to do with us! Do we need to dig a hole and bury you?"

  The scoundrels were overjoyed, finally something had happened. The confused dragon was delighted, like a gossipy old woman, "He set the dog on you? He set the dog on you?"

  I patted the Muddy Dragon's head. "Muddy Dragon, get on!" The Muddy Dragon grabbed me and took a bite before spitting out mud pellets.

  I sat down with a sulk, "Loser Star, give me some horse hoof tea." Loser Star poured out a small cup from his clay pot and handed it to me. "It's too bitter. Add more glutinous rice," I said pickily. He then took out a small package from his body and added glutinous rice to my tea, grain by grain.

  Our gunner has returned to his usual idle state. We jeer at him, watching Krupp furtively wiping his gun with a rag tied to an iron rod in the barrel and chamber, pulling it back and forth.

  I felt a sorrowful gaze shift away from me, and I turned my head to see Dr. Hao's sorrowful eyes. I didn't want to meet his declining years with my own boredom, so I quickly shifted my gaze away too.

  I was wrong, my captain won't be like me, we'll only become more and more like ourselves. Time is a snake that swallows its own tail, we're in it, forever unaware of what's the beginning and what's the end.

  I trudged towards my dinner, with Death walking close behind me, even more listless than I was. Our dinner was in one of those shanties that were supposed to be temporary but had almost become permanent, and between it and us lay the ritual of passing through the checkpoint before we could eat.

  Macruhan saw us from afar and came over very spiritedly - probably the only two Americans on the whole battlefield who were still spirited.

  "He shouted from afar: 'I'm your supporter! No, I'm your fan!'"

  He died and died, asking me for an explanation, "What does it mean?"

  I listlessly told her, "He's infatuated with you, no doubt about it, he's fallen in love with you."

  Dead, dead, even more dead, "Oh, really not bad."

  "McClure stepped closer and said, "I might have shot you for that translation. But now I want to say, sir, I think the man who stops a losing battle is more of a hero than the one who dies in it, even if he isn't treated like one. Having been around Chinese people for some time, I know it's not easy to stick to your guns when everyone is against you... Oh, of course it's not easy in America either, just look at me."

  "It shows. You're even lonely enough to become friends with us." I said.

  After hearing my words, McLuhan suggested that he should kill me now and not waste bullets on me. I smiled at McLuhan with ill intentions, "I will survive."

  "Alright," the American continued, "you were there that day too, you both did a good job. So why be disheartened? You can make wiping out fascism your career, so why regret one mistaken battle?"

  "Master Mai, is this battle wrong no matter how it's fought?" asked Dead Dead.

  "I've said it before, your top leaders want to fight, and a few battles in Midway Island and North Africa can make this rainforest the focus of attention, but it's not up to him to decide. Military victories can bring material and political victories, Britain, the Soviet Union, all the Allied countries want to draw attention to their own battlefields." McLuhan said with a hint of sympathy and mockery, "Oh, and my home country. Three modern military powers are playing this game with you, and you are the only ancient semi-modern nation... If I say it straight out that you're backward, you won't say 'down with imperialism', will you?"

  "Down with imperialism." After saying that I triumphantly rushed towards the dead body, "Did you hear?"

  "Your commander never cared about this, he just wants to fight. He and your military leaders, war zone officials, are doing their best to make this battle happen, they only want to expand themselves." McLuhan said.

  "Die die die said: 'He didn't think that way. You are also standing and talking without waist pain, and not half of America was occupied and slaughtered.'"

  The American didn't want to argue about this anymore, he came specifically to give a gift to Didi.

  He stared blankly at the thing MacRuhan handed him, "What's this American trick?" It was a photo of himself, from MacRuhan's camera in that mess. What wasn't strange was that he was pinned full of pushpins on the photo.

  "You're a good man, and your men are too. So don't do this to yourself and your army - or I'll curse you like an old Chinese lady."

  The dead American's usually pinched face looked somewhat friendly, he smiled. The dead guy smiled back with a bitter smile, holding the photo and admiring it for a while, saying: "......you're also a good person." Then he threw Maikeluhan there, I followed, because Maikeluhan made a ghostly face towards him.

  In the dining hall, Midge and Collins were arguing heatedly. Midge was about to poke his half-disassembled Czech-style pipe into Collins' big nose, while Collins made a face as if smelling feces. It's really hard for these two, one only knows a few English words, the other only knows a few Chinese words, yet they can still argue more fiercely than a thousand ducks.

  We were trying to get into the mess hall in this chaos, but Collins was a bit of an oddball in this regard, and one hairy hand reached out, "Ons!"

  "My rifle is spotless, ready to go. The dead rifle is even more excessive than the dragon's, and it's covered in dirt when I take it out of the holster. Collins opens it up and makes a vomiting face, 'You! Didn't wipe your butt! No food!'"

  "You're not having dinner." I translated immediately for Della. We were both shocked and delighted, expecting him to make a big fuss like a dragon, but the guy just grunted, nodded at Collins, "Oh, then I won't eat."

  We stared at him in astonishment as he left.