Chapter 29

  That guy would emerge from the fog and branches, it's not a good idea to get too close to him. Every time he turned around, stopped, disappeared and reappeared, someone would be poked in the forehead by him and fall to the ground.

  I organized an attacking formation, "Get him! People on the side, hurry up!"

  But I didn't get to pass, and the snake's butt was kicked by him again, rolling down from the mountain ridge. Kang Ya was waving a shovel with his teeth and claws, and he ran around from an angle that wouldn't hinder the dead from continuing to run. The dead were also grateful, turned their heads and ran up the mountain road. Kang Ya's main misfortune was being kicked in the butt by the confused dragon who caught up from behind.

  Dead dead escaped to the top of the mountain, and disappeared in a flash in the fog. The exhausted dragon led the way, followed by a group of mobs.

  I hobbled and hobbled with all my might, until Dr. Hao supported me. I glared at A Yi, who was still lagging behind us, and he finally started to move forward.

  I looked at Hao Shouyi's bitter smile and I also started smiling bitterly.

  "This originally very serious incident has been made to seem like a joke, but we still have to pursue it - if he really is the squad leader as he claims, then the phrase 'the law does not blame the masses' doesn't apply to us."

  The dragonfly reversed his machine gun, ready to swing it instead of firing, he ran over and back again, only to find that the person he was chasing was squatting behind a tree at the fork in the road - and with his back to him.

  The dragon learned its lesson, quietly changing its stealthy approach. It also discovered that machine guns could be used to kill people. With the gun on his shoulder, he picked up a thick wooden stick from the ground.

  Then that guy turned his head and snorted at him, then turned his head back to its original direction. It was difficult for the mysterious dragon's temperament to deal with an opponent who didn't take himself as an opponent, so he also looked in that direction.

  We gathered together, looking in the same direction. We were silent, and the sound of gunfire was close by - a single shot from a Type 38 rifle. In the interval between shots, we clearly heard Miroku grinding his teeth with a sound that made you want to stuff a cork in his mouth so he wouldn't shatter his teeth. But when I looked at Miroku, what I saw on his face was sadness rather than anger.

  The place we were looking at was on the mountain waist of this small hill, and there was a simple Japanese army position near the foot of the mountain. It was formed by just a few scattered trenches, with some simple sandbag fortifications built from soil packed into bags. A 92-type heavy machine gun was placed there to monitor the riverbank below, but no one was in charge. The dozen or so Japanese soldiers at that location were doing something they thought was more interesting. There were over ten corpses lying on the riverbank, and they were taking turns shooting at the one that still moved with their rifles. It was clearly a betting game; their guns were almost all thrown aside, and to ensure fairness, they shared a single 38 rifle. Accompanied by the sound of gunfire and the screams from the corpse, there erupted bursts of Japanese laughter and cheers, such as "I hit its leg!" and "He's screaming again!".

  The person lying on the riverbank could not be seen clearly in the mist, but he was shouting, which was also the reason for Li Wula's sadness and anger.

  Li Wula kept shouting: "I am Li Liansheng! A Jilin man! You turtle egg from the other side! Don't hide! Give me a gun, you have guns! Give me a gun, I'm Li Liansheng! Came with you all!"

  You can be sure he didn't call out to the Japanese army, but it was the Japanese who fired, and another bullet hit him in the shoulder. Li Wula now had no strength left to shout, and only shuddered once, burying his head in the shallow water. He was sobbing.

  A loud noise sounded beside me, and the dragon rushed out. If he was like a clumsy gorilla when chasing after the dead, now he was like a rhino that could crush everything. I had never seen anyone grab the barrel of a machine gun with one hand and swing a tree trunk with the other, originally used to beat the dead. He rushed down from this slope so fast that branches scraped against his body, drawing blood. A small tree lying across the road was smashed into two segments by him.

  The second one was dead, that guy stood up straight and was a black leopard, he grasped his Zhongzheng rifle, with the bayonet pointing out. The third one wasn't bad, although he almost tripped when jumping in, obstructing the view of the brave advance. I wanted to be the fourth one, but She Piguang did it instead. The fifth one was a group - Chinese people do things, they need an opening, now there are four.

  When we had become a group, the dragon had already encountered a Japanese soldier who was leaving the game on one side to urinate. He swung out that arm-thick tree stick, and it flew out while the dragon didn't even stop. After rushing several steps forward, the flying stick hit the skull with a dull thud that I could hear from here. Then the dragon used a 20-pound heavy machine gun to knock down a Japanese soldier who was facing him.

  I rolled and crawled down the hill while confirming that Japanese soldier was definitely dead.

  The dragon finally met an opponent who could match him. A Japanese army sergeant drew his sword, and he reacted so quickly that he didn't even turn around, but instead drew his sword and then spun around to slash. The dragon's guy was too heavy for him to turn around in time, so he faced the sergeant with a mouthful of white teeth and let out a loud roar. I saw a strange sight in this war - a black guy like a mountain spirit facing a knife that could cut him in half, showing two white eyes and a mouthful of white teeth, roaring loudly. The knife-wielding guy was stunned for a moment, then completely abandoned his slashing stance and took off running.

  A dark figure rushed past the bewildered dragon, silently stabbing a gun into the back waist of that sergeant. He was dead, he rushed towards a pile of Japanese soldiers who were still huddled together but had given up the game and turned around, and then killed another Japanese soldier with his 38 rifle, which had been used for competition all along. There were three people behind the gun, but they were so frightened by this dark demon rushing out of the fog that they didn't dare to come forward.

  The muzzle shook uncontrollably, and the Japanese soldier's muttering was loud enough for us to hear clearly, because it was actually a Chinese pronunciation: "Yāo guài, qù sàn - Yāo guài, qù sàn."

  He was crouching and moving stealthily, when he suddenly let out a strange cry. I had heard some of the indigenous people from the southern regions who still practiced slash-and-burn agriculture and ate raw meat make this kind of battle cry before. The Japanese soldier opened fire, but at such close range, he was startled and missed his target. He-la-he-la thrust his rifle upwards from below into the soldier's throat.

  Down we charged into the Japanese troops, our bodies tumbling in the dull thud of impact. Black torsos and yellow uniforms were twisted together, black fingers gripping yellow throats, white bayonets splashing red blood, black clubs swinging, brown rifle butts falling.

  I finally arrived at the foot of the mountain after my arduous journey down, and as I got up, that bloody battle was already coming to an end. The black bodies were separating from the yellow military uniforms. I stared in astonishment at those familiar soldier boys, such a bloody battle could be mesmerizing, and my comrades were indeed entranced, their hot blood and anger bursting through their foreheads.

  I've never fought such a battle, the sheep tore apart the jackal in just a few minutes. The killer was so weak after all, and the dead Japanese still believed that the black specters charging out of the misty mountains were foreign mountain goblins - if they had been dressed up properly, it wouldn't have gone so smoothly, as that guy said, we killed them with our underpants.

  I heard a scream, and when I turned around, it was the Japanese soldier who had been knocked unconscious by the dragon's tree branch. He let out a woman-like shriek and took off running. The dragon came over and pushed me aside, and this guy finally thought that machine guns were meant to be fired, so he shot, with half a magazine of bullets flying over the Japanese soldier's head through the treetops.

  He took over the machine gun and knocked down that Japanese soldier with half a clip. He glanced at Mí Lóng, but Mí Lóng didn't look back at him, instead walking away directly.

  The dragon walked towards the riverbank, where Li Wula's lifeless body lay in the shallow water.

  We thought the dragon's movement was going to beat Lioura again, but he approached, poked at Lioura, and then picked up the body from the water.

  When the dragon was holding Li Wula and staring at the fog, motionless, we thought that the enemy army had come again from the riverbank. We quietly picked up the weapons discarded by the Japanese army, but we stopped, and in the fog, those people slowly emerged, disheveled, but with clothes and weapons - a small number of British soldiers and some Chinese soldiers. They remained silent after their narrow escape.

  "Want Ma! You're a dead pig head!"

  He ran past, splashing water, especially Chinese people, especially rural Chinese people don't hug, he patted his numb head left and right. The bean pancake next to me made a silly laugh that only I could hear.

  The bean pancake shouted "Want Ma Ge" and started the endless project of wiping nose and tears.

  Ma was much luckier than most of us, his plane landed safely at the airport, he received equipment and was assigned to a temporary patrol unit. A Japanese army drove them into this pocket-shaped valley, then like us, the main force pursued, and the squad stayed behind. They were repelled several times by that 92-style machine gun, but that heavy machine gun now belongs to us.

  Ma Za and his fellow sufferers in the valley began to whisper among themselves, and as a result several people started taking off their clothes - clothes and food were offered to Bu La, but he shook his head, wanting only food.

  Yao Ma thought it was strange, "Still addicted?"

  Not spicy not speaking, just picked off the plant's big leaves to wipe his dagger, that dagger had just seen blood.

  "...Put it on! You're not wearing any either!" What Ma was drinking was of course not the non-spicy one, but rather the tofu pancake that had always been under his protection.

  The bean pancake smiled and said: "I don't know what's going on, but I'm getting bolder. If I were naked, I'd even beat a devil to death."

  "Go ahead and blow, go ahead and blow, you say you're Du Yuming's son!" Wanting Ma said.

  Bean cake immediately felt a bit guilty, "... actually I only killed half of the ghost child, I took a gun and strangled him from the top half, the bottom half was not spicy with a bayonet to kill. How many did you kill?"

  Yoma, who had been defeated many times, was also somewhat disheartened and chose not to speak with Nole and Dou Bing again.

  "After three days, people look at each other differently. He can't understand why the usually greedy and selfish Dou Bing doesn't want the clothes he's giving away for free, especially since they just parted ways this afternoon."

  It's not spicy at all," "Just taken out from the British warehouse, touching and smelling it makes me feel warm inside."

  "Not spicy, I'd rather touch and smell the leather jacket given by my parents."

  "Black?"

  "It's black."

  I sat quietly on one side, and Dr. Hao used the first-aid kit he had just obtained from this group of fleeing soldiers to bandage me up. I didn't care about the wound that was getting worse and worse, and I kept staring at the dead bodies.

  He was like a man without emotions, at this time he didn't interact with anyone, but was cleaning the Type 92 heavy machine gun that no one cared about.

  The dragon carried Li Wula away, to be precise, it was the dragon that attracted all my attention, not Li Wula. The tortured Li Wula had completely fallen silent, not even groaning anymore. So I watched as the dragon walked past us and placed the Northeasterner in his arms in a quiet corner.

  Quietly taking care of a dying Miroku looks heartbreaking - if you pay attention - he uses grass leaves to prop up Liu La's head, and with hands that have just smashed several skeletons, he combs out Liu La's wet hair. He puts all the food he got on the side, breaks off a very small piece, and puts it in Liu La's mouth. He even has the patience to help the other person's lower jaw crush the crackers with a slight force, and then uses an appropriate amount of water that will not choke a dying person to help Liu La swallow.

  I gently poked the veterinarian Hao, who was helping me bandage. Veterinarian Hao just looked up and shook his head, "Can't be saved. He's been shot more than ten times, and he bled out in the water."

  So I had to look again, the dragon chewed the meat into a thread and stuffed it into Li Wula's mouth. I saw a Heilongjiang black dragon from Northeast China hugging a wet head of a Jilin person from Northeast China, whispering in his ear with their authentic Northeastern dialect, occasionally drifting over two sentences, if you could understand, they were all meaningless whispers like "it's okay, it's okay", "nothing's wrong, nothing's wrong", "what's the big deal", "old guys".

  We never knew what kind of grudge Miroku and Shippo had, all we knew was that Miroku always beat up Shippo but would give him food when he was starving. We avoided Miroku even more because of this, thinking about how much you must hate someone to treat them like that, keeping them alive just to vent your anger.

  But it seems that the dragon has more than just anger.

  We watched as Miroku pressed his forehead against Lirien's, a display of affection we had never seen him show to anyone before.

  The dead squad is still moving forward in the jungle, now it has expanded several times and has become a complete battalion. The black skin is walking in front to guard, the dressed people are taking care of the two wings and the rear, now most people have weapons, and that 92-style heavy machine gun was sent by the dead squad to carry.

  The dragon carried Li Wula in the middle of the team, Li Wula wore someone else's clothes, indeed as Hao Shouyi said, he was no longer bleeding, and what dripped to the ground was just water.

  Li Wula moved slightly later, and the excessive blood loss had actually made him unable to see. He used his hand on the dragon's shoulder to grope for the dragon's forehead. The dragon walked with a blank expression, allowing the person on its back to do this groping. That hand touched the dragon's forehead, then slid over the bridge of its nose, and finally fell down. The dragon felt a head falling onto its shoulder with an entirely blank expression.

  The dragon walks away. He didn't plan on staying.

  The battle in the river valley made him a whole string of dead bodies, and then he still dragged us around in the jungle, just like he said, the Japanese army stretched the front line too long, exchanged a bucket of water for a bottle of wine, hair hanging down, war.

  Li Wura died ten minutes after we set off, but Mi Long carried him on his back without a word for another hour. Suddenly, it dawned on us that there was no longer any living Northeasterner beside the dead Northeasterner Mi Long.

  In the morning light of the jungle, the dragon was still walking with the corpse on its back. Its expression and gait had not changed in the slightest. It seemed to be tireless, a machine carrying a dead body.

  Wearing a backpack and carrying a light machine gun that should have been carried by Mi Long, as if to make up for his own lack of effort.

  Hao Shouyi didn't even dare look at him as he walked by his side, "Mí Lóng."

  No response.

  Hao Shouyi said in a low voice: "The man is already dead."

  No response.

  "Shut up! Have you ever fired a mountain cannon? Can you kill the little Japanese devils? What are you bragging about?"

  We were shocked, looking at the dead body standing by the road, because what came out of that guy's mouth was Northeastern dialect. We almost thought this guy was a Northeasterner, but that didn't count, he had previously used Northeastern dialect to quarrel with Mí Lóng, Beijing dialect to fight with me, Shaanxi dialect to chat with Hǎo Shòu Yī, and even the screams of ethnic minorities from the border areas came out of his mouth. Nothing could be counted - that guy was a dialect machine.

  The dragon stared at him, because "mountain cannon" is a very serious Northeastern insult, and it was directed at the deceased.

  He's dead, dead, as if he didn't notice the dragon's gaze at all, and then said: "What to do? Take a machine gun to kill people. The whole dead person is numb, who is fooling around?"

  He didn't even look back, and went straight to his team leader. The dragon looked not angry but bewildered, he was bewildered for a while, then put down Lioura by the roadside, turned around and pulled back his machine gun from the shoulder of the man who wanted to take it.

  In the eleven years of exile, Mi Long had long been a man who was ruthless enough to himself. He left the corpse by the roadside without looking back. I watched with bated breath as he overtook the dead and went to the front of the team.

  I was worried that Mò Lóng would kill him off because he didn't say he'd kill him off - later I found out, Mò Lóng had gagged himself, and from then on he barely spoke.

  "Hey, hey! Someone's calling me: 'Messenger! Within three meters! Get to a distance where I can reach you with just one ear scratch!'"

  I limped after him.

  We dark-skinned devils crouched behind trees along the edge of the forest in the first line, while those wearing clothes formed the second line for this charge.

  This time I didn't die, I was only three meters away. I crouched beside him and looked out at the forest - a British underground bunker with a full entrance buried in the ground, Japanese soldiers crowded around it throwing hand grenades into the hole one by one, machine guns firing blindly inside - no need to ask what they were doing.

  Die die quietly said: "Pass it on. I'll copy with my left hand on the left side, and my right hand on the right side. Wait for the signal to swing."

  I passed it to Not Spicy, Not Spicy passed it to Snake Buttocks, Snake Buttocks passed it to Dizzy Dragon, Dizzy Dragon should have passed it to Bean Pancake, but he's now sulking and imposing a gag order on himself, while Bean Pancake is not only four meters away, an absolute unreachable distance with a hand slap, but also intently asking his protector for hemp.

  The dragon picked up a stone from the ground and threw it over, but the stone was a bit too big, and he hit the bean pancake right on the head with a "clang", and finally the bean pancake turned around, looked at the dragon for a moment, and then fell straight down.

  In our midst of astonishment, the two suddenly came to blows, and we were in an uproar, with some people putting on their clothes and the black-skinned devils helping to separate the pair.

  Luckily, dozens of meters away, the Japanese army was enthusiastically throwing hand grenades one by one, otherwise our ambush team would have been ambushed.

  The left hand started swinging down with a thud.

  The dragon began firing, his arm strength was astonishing, but the use of it was completely wrong, and the intimidating power of its machine gun fire was far greater than its lethal force.

  It's worth mentioning that he has a dark bruise on his eye socket that looks like it was punched out.

  We start shooting from both left and right wings at the same time.

  One side was shooting numbly, while the other side was bleeding from the nose and flowing happily.

  Our team has expanded again, and the two brigades have become three brigades. The middle brigade is a heavy machine gun and supplies carried by manpower. Ma had to carry one end of the machine gun, wiping his nosebleed with a scowl on his face, apparently it was a punishment for him.

  The lost dragon walked at the end of the central column, carrying on his back still dazed Dou Bing and his machine gun.

  We wandered in the jungle all day, attacking the Japanese army who only sang empty city tactics, and a team of ownerless lone souls of our army joined us. At night, he finally expressed his satisfaction to the point of death.

  I looked around and said: "You're almost pulling out half an independent regiment."

  He expressed his satisfaction in this way, "Hmph."

  The airport's horizon twinkled with artillery fire and trajectories under the night sky. The shelling was not intense, mainly because it came from some light mortars and grenade launchers fired by the Japanese army under our surveillance, which were also half-hearted, with intimidation far exceeding actual casualties. The most dazzling and violent explosions were actually some planes destroyed by both the Japanese and British armies, as well as their own ammunition depots set on fire.

  We finally don't have to be savages anymore after that hum, and we were led onto the right path back to the airport. The airport is being attacked by the Japanese army, and the British army here is also burning things. If 24 hours ago we would have considered this march a suicide, but now... the Japanese troops we encountered are all singing empty city tactics.

  Die, die, look enough, handed over the newly acquired telescope to me. He deliberately left time for me to see it. He was not in a hurry because his men were setting up an ambush behind the trenches dug by the Japanese army at the airport. They also set up two newly acquired 92-style heavy machine guns and several light machine guns.

  My eyes are glued to the telescope, and I say: "Two small teams plus a few cannons, even if they swell up, it's only 140-150 heads. Zhuge Liang will be furious, his Empty City Stratagem is sung once in a lifetime, while the Japanese sing it three times a day."

  He died, he looked very calm, "Their transport power can't form an overwhelming advantage in this area in a short period of time. All the main forces have gone to India and chased after Burma. Behind is just behind the peacock's butt - by the way, what is 聻?"

  "When a man dies, he becomes a ghost; when a ghost dies, it becomes an evil spirit; the fear of an evil spirit is like the fear of a ghost." I explained to him.

  Die die laughing, "So profound. In Xuzhou, you were just eating military rations, how did you fight for four years? Were you always studying before?"

  In my unsatisfactory life, this is the part that has always made me indignant: "Just reading books. The kind of reading that turns human flavor into rotten book page flavor."

  "Dead, dead, happy!" "What kind of thought is this? I'd like to know."

  He wasn't majestic, but he had a kind of infectiousness that was completely unrelated to majesty, which made people like me who were extremely resistant to him sometimes unknowingly fall under his spell. So I showed it to him in a pose of reciting Liang Qichao's "Young China Says", with a swaggering and swaying posture, drawing whiskers and circles, sometimes even singing it out loud, with the demeanor of a cultural zombie, reciting such an inspiring text, which was sad in itself.

  "The Japanese call our China the old empire, and again the old empire. This phrase is indeed borrowed from Westerners. Alas! Is our China really old? Liang Qichao said: What nonsense is this! In my mind's eye, there is a young China..."

  I was acting, he was enjoying it, I suddenly choked on the five words "Young China" and changed their tone - I was stunned, I suddenly felt very tired and sad. I thought this sadness had nothing to do with me, because I no longer believed in it.

  Today I learned a lesson: don't mock your past ideals in front of others. Whether you believe it or not, what you've been paying for all along is your own life.

  I came to and said in a hoarse voice: "...... This is not the time for nonsense."

  He fell silent, let out a sigh, as if he had just realized that we were about to face a war. "Yeah, but you guys don't have to worry too much, those who can make it here are all seasoned veterans, experts in survival - I mean, they're all great fighters."

  He said, we in the woods didn't stop for a moment, two heavy machine gun nests had been fortified and concealed so that even if you opened fire, you couldn't see its outline; Snake butt beat out a depression with soil-filled bags, putting the gun on top to make it more accurate; Want to tie up the trees, because this is more advantageous; Not spicy tore someone else's clothes into earth-made hanging grenade bags, hanging grenades around his neck, whether such a charging hand can quickly throw out grenades determines his life and death - not just them, everyone is doing similar things, this is indeed a group of old slickers.

  "Die die, there's a joking tone that says: 'When speaking of the country's old and young, first speak of people's old and young. The elderly think about the past, while the young think about the future. Thinking about the past gives rise to nostalgia, thinking about the future gives rise to hope.' Annoying annoying, come with me and take a look."

  I shook my head, "You're too dangerous."

  He then turned back from that teasing and looked at me, I didn't make a sound. He began to mobilize the people who were going to charge with him, and I followed behind.

  I think he wasn't talking about this charge, and neither was I.

  This was a rather vicious and despicable battle, although they had the advantage of numbers, they still launched a sneak attack from behind. He, I, Mí Lóng, Bù Là and others easily crawled into the empty second line trenches of the Japanese army due to lack of manpower. A burst of submachine gun fire and hand grenades passed by, interspersed with several despicable guys flashing something in their hands - they were throwing lit torches.

  He yelled "Down! Down in the pit!", and he led by example, diving into the ditch with his head not even exposed, that was a blind spot where even artillery couldn't hit. The Japanese army split half of their forces to attack from behind, when they were approaching the second line of trenches, the faint light of the fire was enough to provide illumination for the guys hiding in the dark, the forest on the slope burst into gunfire, two heavy machine guns that had been pre-aimed swept away the Japanese who had nowhere to hide, the riflemen who had been aiming for half a day were picking off the remaining fish.

  Several light machine guns were carried by the dead. The dragonflies lay on the ground, firing their machine guns at the second batch of Japanese troops who came along the communication trench, while the others threw hand grenades and advanced forward under the cover of firepower in the forest.

  This was almost a one-sided massacre, with over half of the Japanese losses quickly retreating to the flanks and we pursued.

  I fired my rifle in short bursts at the Japanese troops fleeing into the night, watching them fall. I knocked down a Japanese grenadier who was reloading his launcher on top of it, and watched as the loaded launcher exploded under him. My field of view was blocked by my comrades who were pursuing, I stood up dragging my rifle and limping after them.

  If we had fought like this five years ago, or even eleven years ago, I would have been confident of a youthful China. But it has come too late now; I am already an old man with the energy of youth.

  Speak of a country's old and young, speak first of people's old and young. I am young yet aged, my ancestral land is young yet aged.

  That dark-skinned, naked lieutenant colonel rushed into the pile of soldiers, shouting and firing, he really didn't look like a lieutenant colonel.

  He's sprawled out in the Japanese machine gun emplacement, getting comfortable as he can. He's eating a Japanese can of something, one foot bare so he can use his toes to flip over and examine the several Japanese insignia on the ground - he's studying their rank badges.

  We scattered around, searching for spoils of war. Not spicy again hung a bunch of Japanese hand grenades on his neck, I rummaged through a military medical kit marked with a cross, Mi Long held a machine gun and sat among the corpses, he was probably still thinking that he was the last Northeasterner.

  People came one after another in the forest, Snake Butt, Want Ma, Bean Cake wrapped around his head, Hao Shouyi and A Yi, and so on. Our charging faces were written with discomfort, their reinforcements doubled with discomfort - uncomfortable with such a onesided battle, this victory left them somewhat bewildered.

  Die die die! He waved his Japanese ladle at the newcomers and shouted loudly: "Please come in! Please sit down! Please take a seat! --- You are all my grandfathers now, I am the grandson of you all!"

  He was in a great mood, very relaxed. Even this fool could see it, and at times like these, he truly shone with charm, leaving us even more stunned. "What's going on?" he asked Mi Long, who gave him a sideways glance; "What do you mean?" he asked Bu Lao, who chuckled to himself; "Don't be silly, is that true?" he asked Dou Bing, who hastily composed herself.

  Die die, it looks like it's so intimate that it's going to die. "Today, you all get to sit in the main seat! Because what you got before was either something the big old master didn't want, or something the heavenly old master threw at you, or relying on your own pitiful self, or waiting for others' kindness——today, is something you earned yourselves!"

  I dragged that medicine box and handed it over to Hao veterinarian, whispering: "Damn buying people's hearts."

  The old man said: "It's good as long as you know people have a conscience."

  The old man hehe laughed, but he couldn't laugh for a few seconds, because the dragon suddenly stood up, putting his machine gun on the fortifications. Although he didn't speak, it was a hint, and we all took our positions.

  In the night color and fog, the airport on the other side of the extreme goal is swaying with human shadows, and the drum beats are faintly sounding.

  Many of our rifles were aimed at the small team of British soldiers coming from the other end of the mist, in formation, taking small steps, with a little drummer beating drums beside their commander, who was strolling along with his right hand holding a small white flag hanging on a bamboo pole - the former owner of this airport, they thought they had already lost the airport.

  The snake-like butt of the rifle clicked, to make them stop in their tracks. Not spicy threw a torch over, and under the suddenly enhanced brightness we saw the above details - all this left us speechless.

  The commander, a military man with hair that had seen its share of gray, looked almost dignified as he solemnly raised the white flag in his hand. "Gentlemen, what we are going to do is just as you see it. We have decided to accept the protection of the Geneva Convention."

  "What's going on?"

  "I said: 'Surrender. What Geneva Convention?'"

  "Is that to say we can have whatever we want?"

  I was somewhat unenthusiastic, "You can say it that way too."

  As the guy walked out, the British army behind the commander had already pulled the trigger. Our respected commander stretched out his hand to stop them - not everyone was used to seeing a black, weapon-covered, bare-chested soldier - the old man's experience allowed him to tolerate it, but by no means did he decide to accept it.

  The commander looked him up and down, "Mr. Othello, it's an honourable thing for a historic army to lay down its flags in front of its newly risen opponent. So why not put on your clothes and speak to us like a gentleman?"

  The speech was long, and when translated into English it was twice as long. He listened with a diplomatic smile on his face until the end, only to find that the translator had been thrown into the construction site.

  "Die die die! Someone's yelling at me: 'Within three meters! Messenger!' "

  I reluctantly went within three meters of him, and our dignified ally once again beheld a black-skinned, naked cripple; I don't know what he called me in his artistic heart - Yagyu, Richard III, or Quasimodo.

  I told him, "He calls you Othello, Othello is a Moor, that is to say, a black man. He says he's a very dignified person, and you're almost naked. Can't you wrap yourself up a bit? That way everyone will have dignity."

  Damn it! Because they burned all our clothes! Translate for me! And translate 'damn it' too!

  I toned down his language considerably, "We can't pretend to be gentlemen because your damned soldiers have burned our clothes, rifles, ammunition, food, medicine, etc., and we get nothing but vomit bags as war supplies. My commander expressed his view on this matter: 'Damn it'."

  I must admire the old gentleman's demeanor, he merely raised an eyebrow, "Why is the young sir angry? Providing you with supplies isn't my duty, cutting off your supply lines and stifling your offensive just so happens to be my responsibility. Of course, that was before I tore up my beloved bed sheet to make this little white flag."

  I lower my head, I am silent, I raise my head and look at the dead words, dead words that are waiting for me to translate them. "Don't rush, translate slowly. I often forget characters too, forget Chinese characters."

  So I continued to silently watch him, gently pinching my own fingers to make the bones crackle, the old gentleman frowned and looked at me, not hiding his astonishment, perhaps this was another very ungentlemanly behavior.

  How can I explain to our allies that they would rather surrender to the Japanese than believe they were rescued by Chinese troops? Our allies couldn't even tell Chinese from Japanese, or rather, they didn't bother to distinguish between them.

  It took us half an hour to break through the airport's encirclement, but it took a full one and a half hours to explain to the airport garrison that we came from a war zone long abandoned by them, that we were the Allies.

  The old gentleman finally broke his white flag, threw it aside, and stepped on it. After indicating his clear attitude, he arranged his guards in a formation, and his drummer began to beat another tune.

  Most of us had been sitting on the ground for a long time, we were tired. We stood up from our ungentlemanly behavior, with a face full of annoyance, yawning very rudely, and finally entered this base and airport where we should have changed clothes and fully prepared to attack the Japanese army.

  My legs are aching so much they're about to explode, it was too exhausting just now. I told him to walk slowly on one side, and the person supporting me is Hao Shouyi.

  The old man smiled wryly, "You saved the entire airport, do you feel honored?"

  "I don't feel honored at all."

  He's been shouting at me from a distance, "You're really something! You can even teach the British to tell Chinese and Japanese apart. I'm going to promote you again!"

  I gave him a sidelong glance, not wanting to talk to him, but I was willing to say to Hao Shouyi, "Even if we really saved the whole of Burma, which is on the verge of being defeated by the British, the British would only think that this is a war between Chinese monkeys and Japanese monkeys, both foolish and arrogant. Just like when we were divided and scattered in the past, shouting about using barbarians to control barbarians, how ridiculous! And another thing, when we say that the British have defeated Burma, this is just their colony, but what about us... we are on the verge of defeating our own country."

  "What a lot of ideas he has!" He slapped me hard on the back and strode past us, heading towards the puzzled dragon, apparently someone else was going to be tormented.

  I'm ignoring him, I found that this guy is always trying to say his own words, it's best to just ignore him. "I regret coming here more and more, Old Hao, you're killing me, I should have just stayed in Zhendai and died quietly."

  Hao Lao Tou dryly laughed twice, and the answer was still the previous "die die die". This guy's hearing is a bit superhuman. "Interpreter, I'll immediately get a British doctor to treat your leg."

  My anger rose from the bottom of my heart, I glared at him, "Let me tell you something?"

  "Come on, I'll take whatever trash you've got."

  "It's no use even if you can fight. We've lost this battle in Burma." I glared at him, I had already said enough to warrant military discipline, but I hadn't done anything that warranted military discipline before either. He looked at me, his expression having nothing to do with military discipline, "I'm not fighting for the British... why are you glaring at me?"

  This time he really left, patting and hitting the silent Ming Long, no longer caring about me.

  Hao Shouyi snorted, "He's fighting for us."

  I splashed cold water on him, "Old man, you old madman, be careful of a stroke!"

  We slept on the cold, hard floor of the warehouse, those who took better care of themselves slept on crates that were scattered around the warehouse, each of us kept our hard-won weapons close to ourselves.

  The snoring sounds like thunder, I stare at the dark vaulted ceiling - a group of people's snores mixed together is really a very strange thing, with high pitches, low tones, swirling, sighing, cheering, and sobbing.

  After many years of military service, the thing I hate the most is snoring. My father demanded that we make no noise while sleeping or eating, and from a young age, our household rules were strict, beating me until I had an unconscious aversion to both sleep and food.

  I keep telling myself that this awareness is hard-won, from the moment I boarded the plane, I entered a madman's world. The madmen fell asleep as soon as they were tired, but we had to be both crazy and sober... But there are only a few things in the world that cannot be deceived: peace of mind, honesty, innocence, sleep.

  I watched as Dr. Hao stumbled over from the darkness, bumping into boxes and tripping over boards. He was carrying the medical kit I had given him on his back, which could have reached us easily if he had just stretched out his hand, but having come from a bright place outside, the old man was still feeling his way in this pitch-black room.

  I let out a soft sigh, and then Dr. Hao touched my face.

  "That's my nose eye." I said.

  "Sorry, sorry." He fumbled his way down to sit, "What kind of godforsaken place is this? It's as dark as a womb in here."

  "Good heavens. Letting our lot run wild all over the place, they'll lose their British face, and the old gentlemen might just be thinking of a way to stuff us back into our mothers' bellies."

  The old man chuckled and said, "That's great. Then I'll head back to Xi'an."

  "Are you going to cure his shoulder or what? Why don't you try a bit harder and cure him to death, just like you did with us?" I asked the old man.

  The old man shook his head, "You won't be satisfied, that guy is a four-legged snake, hurts the flesh but not the bones. Just use a chopstick to apply some medicine and poke it in, he can even argue with the British without delay."

  "Is he arguing with the British old man again?" I started to climb up, and quarreling with the Briton was something I'd be happy to do, but I was held back by Dr. Hao.

  The old man grabbed me, "Alright, alright. Old Pui Pi said that he didn't welcome translators without gentlemanly demeanor, and instead brought a translator with very gentlemanly demeanor. He even said to let you rest well and come back within three meters tomorrow."

  So I lay down again, lying on the plank box, Old Hao lay under the box.

  "Do you really believe him?" I asked.

  Hao Shouyi ignored the question and said, "Believe it or not, he's asking the British for a doctor to treat your leg. Not a doctor like me, but a real doctor."

  I'm silent, feeling around in the silence for my legs, "Whose legs are these? I've forgotten."

  Hao the veterinarian sighed, "Sleep, sleep, who still remembers anything in this era? Look at me, being dragged into battle by you bunch of deadbeats, I've become a vagabond's life, and all I can remember is my own roots."

  "I'm damned if I can sleep," I said.

  "You're still young, what's wrong with your sleep?"

  "Tomorrow is unknown, don't even know how I'll die, what right do I have to sleep?"

  "The most miserable thing is me, nothing has been accomplished, and I'll just die like this. But why can't I sleep?" The old man was insistent.

  "I don't want to bother with you anymore."

  Hao Shouyi smiled bitterly in the darkness, "Are you opening your eyes? You're closing them."

  "I said, 'I still can't sleep even with my eyes closed.'"

  "Close your eyes."

  I closed my eyes, and in an instant, my mind was filled with scenes of flesh flying everywhere. The mule floated away under the impact of machine gun bullets, the long gun was burning, and the dragon was holding Li Wula's corpse on the shallow beach. A ghostly figure, like a caveman, stood upright, dripping blood, and shouting "Dead! Dead!" Amidst this chaos, I remembered that there was a girl, and her name was Xiaozui.

  Then I heard Hao Shouyi humming a tune, his voice was similar to an old crow's, probably a lullaby sung by people from Shaanxi province to coax little kids to sleep.

  I turned around and said, "What are you yelling about? I'm not your son!"

  Hao Shouyi murmured, "My son is following Tang Enbo's troops to fight. Close your eyes, close your eyes."

  "Can't sleep even with eyes closed!"

  I closed my eyes, this time very peacefully, without those messy things appearing. Dr. Hao patted my hand gently, still humming his unpleasant old crow tune.

  I just thought about how I could possibly fall asleep, and then I kept thinking until I fell asleep.

  I was being pushed and shoved, I started yelling, the yell scared me myself, I sat up with a start and grabbed the person who had pushed me - then I came to in the midst of the old hands' thunderous laughter.

  Not spicy, want numb, Kang Ya and the others burst out laughing at me, I tightly pinched Ah Yi's neck, scaring and pinching, Ah Yi's face turned pale, I awkwardly let go, Ah Yi touched his own neck, suppressing a cough.

  "I'm just telling you I have clothes," he said.

  I took a look at his new British military uniform, but what caught my attention was the scissors in his hand - and a tin can with a cut-off lid.

  Ah translated and explained: "The British have a different collar from us, I cut off several of our Chinese collars to wear."

  I wanted to mock him but didn't get a chance, and finally patted his throat which I had pinched before.

  I plan to forget that I was once shot in the back by Ah Yi - as long as I don't have to go into battle with him again.

  I walked through the warehouse with bleary eyes, those sons of bitches were all up early washing themselves outside, this warehouse was almost empty. I looked at the things placed on the crates: each of us had clothes, a pair of leg bindings, a backpack, a canteen and a small, ugly M1917 helmet. Against the sunlight coming in through the open warehouse door, those things looked warm - I touched them, that warmth made me feel sad.

  Those dark-skinned guys among us, by the warehouse, used a hose to wash themselves with water, and wrapped their newly acquired towels around their newly acquired soap as meteor hammers for battle. We caught one of them who was about to board a plane, tied up his pants legs and poured water in, making it difficult for him to walk wearing a lantern-like pants.

  The British sentry looked at us in amazement - Old Hao had covered his head with soap but couldn't find the water pipe, he closed his eyes and felt around, while we kept moving the pipe to a place he couldn't reach.

  Kang Yaode was singing a certain section of Wu Sheng's play, wrapping a towel with soap in it as a whip, the soap flew out and slid onto a water pipe under Du Bao's dragon foot that was washing itself - the result was that the dragon slipped and fell on its back.

  We're all being honest with each other, and one of us, Kang Ya, has a premonition that someone will end up with a head wound or at least a bruised face.

  The dizzy dragon sat on the ground, looked around, and then picked up the soap to wash itself.

  We could only stare blankly at him.

  The dragon may be over, and the dragon is really no longer like a dragon.