Lightning flashed through the rolling dark clouds, the rumbling thunder was getting closer and closer, and the autumn wind blowing through the bleak crossroads made the scene even more desolate.

Li Shuran stood in the front holding the tablet. In front of her were rows of policemen, who formed a strong and tight blockade chain, blocking the funeral procession's way.

The funeral music from the gongs and drums also stopped, and the musicians put down their instruments at a loss, with a faint commotion.

Li Shuran tightened the tablet in her hand, as if she wanted to ask word by word: "What crime did my brother commit?"

The fat police officer laughed nonchalantly, "Isn't it a crime for him to write anti-China books? We have shown leniency by not arresting him. How can a criminal deserve such a grand funeral?"

She stared expressionlessly at the fat police officer in the lead, who was arrogantly reading out her brother's "crimes", and felt only a huge sense of absurdity and anger.

"You're lying! You're lying!" The girl's shrill voice rang out, "My brother is the most decent person in the world! The books he wrote are all good books! They are not anti-China books! You are bad guys! Liars! Demons!"

The others who came to send Jing Ran's luggage were shaking with anger, and they all denounced the fat police officer angrily.

Zheng Yiliang was so hot-tempered that he pushed the fat police officer and said, "Bullshit! Can you speak human language?!"

The fat police officer's face changed, and a ferocious look appeared in his small green bean-like eyes. He kicked Zheng Yiliang to the ground with one foot: "Fuck you, you stupid idiot, you don't know how to be ashamed?" He pulled out a pistol from his waist and pointed it at Zheng Yiliang arrogantly, "Get back, understand? Otherwise, I will shoot!"

His action was like a signal. Dozens of policemen behind him raised their rifles and pointed them at the funeral procession. As they raised their guns, the people who had been watching the excitement scattered like birds, and the streets immediately became empty.

For a moment, the air was so quiet that one could almost hear some people's teeth chattering. The previous stalemate was broken by a dull thump. Several coffin bearers dropped the coffins in panic, raised their hands and shouted, "Sir, sir, don't shoot! We are just doing our job for money!"

"You guys!" Li Shuran's face turned pale, then reddened, and she stared at those people with eyes that looked like they were blazing with fire: "You guys! How dare you!"

The fat police officer smiled smugly and raised his chin. "Why don't you leave now?"

Under Li Shuran's fiery gaze, those people ran away in a panic.

Zheng Yiliang jumped up and thrust the gun barrel towards himself: "Come on! Come at me if you dare. If I blink, I'll kill you!"

Zhou Dezhang also glared at him and spat at him: "If you have the guts, kill all of us here!"

The fat police officer sneered, "Do you think I dare not?"

Just as the two sides were about to draw their swords, a white mourning procession suddenly came slowly towards them from the front. This procession was particularly eye-catching on the empty street, and immediately attracted the attention of everyone present.

The fat police officer spat and said unkindly, "Damn it, who is so blind that he wants to come to the funeral at this time!"

When the team got closer, they saw the special thing about it - it was full of women, all beautiful and charming women wearing white mourning clothes and crying loudly as if they had lost their parents.

The fat police officer pointed his gun at them arrogantly: "Stop! What are you doing?"

The leading woman stopped crying and answered calmly, "We are one of the more than 3,000 prostitutes in the Eight Great Hutongs. We heard that the master will be buried today, so we came here to see him off."

The fat police officer choked, obviously not expecting to hear this answer.

The leading woman bowed and said, "Sir, you are the only person in the world who understands us and cares about us. Now that he is gone, we must send him off. I hope the officer will give you some convenience." Thousands of prostitutes behind her bowed one after another and said in unison, "I hope the officer will give you some convenience!"

The fat police officer was dumbfounded and speechless.

What surprised the fat police officer was yet to come.

Another line appeared at another section of the intersection, this time it was made up of children that stretched as far as the eye could see.

The leader was a young man in mourning clothes. He had a calm face and an unremovable sorrow in his eyes. He said in a deep voice to the fully armed police team: "Fu Kemao, the director of the Wheatfield Orphanage, has come with 458 orphans from the Wheatfield Orphanage and 852 street children from Peiping to see off the night watchman. Why don't you get out of here?!" Behind him were children crying loudly.

As if they had made an appointment, a huge group of people came from the intersection on their right. From a distance, they could see dust flying and loud crying.

The leader was a middle-aged man. He said, "Wei Chenxi, the head of Xiahe Township, and all the villagers of Xiahe Township have come to see Mr. Lin Zhongqi off. Please give us some convenience."

Then, another team came over from Fu Kemao's side.

The old man in the lead said with full energy: "I am Yang Jusi, leading more than 200 Peking University teachers and students to see the heroes off."

"I am Qian Huangguang, the president of the Student Union of Kaiming Middle School. I am leading all the students of our school to see off our outstanding alumnus Li Jingran."

…

Perhaps the arrival of so many people ignited their courage, or perhaps the light of justice had never been extinguished in people's hearts, more and more people joined the funeral procession, and more and more people introduced themselves to the police who blocked the road. In the end, it seemed that all the people in Beiping came to bury Li Jingran.

Among them are businessmen, scholars, students, farmers, vagrants, prostitutes, journalists and people from all walks of life.

They came here just to see off a 17-year-old boy.

Many of them had never seen Li Jingran, but they still came.

Life is about emotions and passions, who cares about fame and fortune?

The fat officer dropped his gun.

He stood there at a loss, his fat body looking particularly small in the sea of people surrounding him.

"Don't you want to live?!" he asked in a shrill voice.

Someone laughed loudly and said, "If you live a life of meanness, what is the joy of living? If you die for justice, what is the pain of dying?"

Zhou Dezhang laughed triumphantly: "Come on! Come and kill us! No matter how many people you kill, justice can never be killed!"

The fat policeman was pale and his legs were shaking. He didn't understand these people's bravery, just like he didn't understand why so many people would stand up and not fear death to see a criminal off.

In the end, he could only lead his men to evacuate the place in a panic, and before leaving, he weakly said: "Just wait for me!"

"Okay!" Someone said with a smile, "We'll be waiting for you here!"

"Get out of here! Go to your master and ask for help!"

"No matter how many guns and cannons you bring, you can't shake us!"

Under the overwhelming force of the people, the police finally retreated in embarrassment.

This legendary funeral will be talked about by the people of Beijing for decades.

Prostitutes, vagrants, teachers, students and farmers carried the coffin of the 17-year-old boy who was covered in blood and died heroically, and walked out of the city step by step.

Wherever the coffin went, there was only the sound of crying.

The heavy rain came pouring down, as if God was crying and seeing the young man off.

…

…

The old woman's story ends here.

Mu Liang was still completely absorbed in the story she had just told him. For a moment, he seemed to have traveled through more than eighty years, parted the sea of time, and witnessed the grand event that had taken place decades ago.

Under the heavy rain, the black coffin slowly passed through the streets full of people. Wherever the coffin went, the crowds parted tacitly like Moses parting the sea.

Under the affectionate gaze of countless pairs of eyes, the black coffin slowly moved away into the distance, followed by a sea of people behind it.

The prostitutes from all eight alleys in Beijing came to see him off in white mourning clothes, hundreds of homeless children cried loudly, and the illiterate farmers also secretly wiped their tears...

The coffin went farther and farther away, and more and more people followed it. In the end, it seemed that the entire city of Peking came out to see the young man off.

Mu Liang knew the boy’s name—Li Jingran, but he preferred to call him the Night Watchman.

The brightest star among the stars of the Republic of China.

Mu Liang first learned about this funeral in his first year of high school Chinese textbook, which was a 2,000-word essay written by the famous scholar Mr. Zhou Dezhang in his later years. The title of the text was also very meaningful, called "The Burial of a Fallen City".

Mu Liang remembered it very clearly. It was the last lesson in the Chinese language class of the first year of high school.

When we were studying this text, the Chinese teacher's face was very heavy and the classroom was very quiet. Only the teacher's clear voice of reading could be heard in the silent classroom.

"This was the last time, and the last time in all of Beiping, that I saw my friend. Since then, he has been sleeping in the ground, covered in blood. My 17-year-old friend has forever been left in the autumn of the 15th year of the Republic of China.

I don't know what he was thinking as he rushed towards the raging gunfire. I only know that facing that fucked up world, he chose to fight back like a warrior.

From now on, the night will be long and the stars will shine. None of them are him, and none of them are as good as him. "

This is the last paragraph of "Burial of a Fallen City". Mu Liang feels heartbroken every time he thinks of it.

He had imagined the grand scene of the funeral in his mind more than once, and wished he could be born a few decades earlier to attend Mr. Li's funeral and see him off.

This was also the first time he heard the full story of the funeral from an eyewitness.

He already knew who the old lady was.

She is Mr. Li Jingran’s sister, Mr. Li Shuran.

There are few records about Li Shuran in history books. Many materials only briefly mention her and keep her in a low profile. It only says that after she returned from studying in the United States, she resolutely returned to China to build her homeland after the founding of the People's Republic of China. Then there is no more news about Li Shuran on the Internet.

So many people mistakenly think that Li Shuran is just an ordinary woman and there is nothing worth talking about.

But as Mr. Li Jingran's sister, how could Mr. Li Shuran be an ordinary woman?

After all, Mu Liang is the son of a high-ranking official. In addition, many files have been released in recent years and Mr. Li Shuran's confidentiality level has been downgraded, so he knows some things that others don't know.

He knew that Mr. Li Shuran, as a nuclear physicist, had been conducting secret research in the Northwest for thirty years, hiding his identity.

Her face is top secret, her deeds are top secret, and her life is also top secret.

That's why Mu Liang had never seen her face in news reports.

That's why the old lady can gain the respect of so many politicians.

Just like his brother Mr. Li Jingran, Mr. Li Shuran is also a well-deserved pillar of the country and can only be described as a patriot.

He looked at the gray-haired, frail old man in front of him with admiration, bowed deeply to her with red eyes, and said in a deep voice: "Sir, thank you."

Li Shuran calmly accepted his bow and smiled: "Thank you for what?"

Thank you for dedicating your life to China.

Finally, Mu Liang said gratefully: "Thank you for telling me this story."

Li Shuran chuckled: "I hope you don't mind me being a nagging old woman."

Looking at the old man's back as he turned and slowly left, Mu Liang felt both proud and sad.

China is proud that it has such an unparalleled hero, but it is sad that he has changed his name and is now in his twilight years.

…

Mu Liang met Mr. Li Shuran again at the televised award ceremony of the National Highest Science and Technology Award.

The white-haired old lady received the big red certificate from the presenter and smiled calmly at the camera, showing a calm expression of having experienced many things. The host at the side listed the old lady's achievements one by one in an excited voice.

Mu Liang's eyes were red and he burst into tears.

In the end, the country remembers, and the people will remember too.

In her acceptance speech, the old lady said with a somewhat melancholy expression: "My brother's name is Li Jingran. He is a great and brave man. He is the signpost of my life and my guide. All my achievements in this life are just the inheritance of my brother's legacy.

During the last Spring Festival before his death, he talked about his dream - to be a free man. I don't know if death is freedom for him, but I will always remember what he said to me at that time: "Shu Ran, you have to live well." Living is easy? But what can be called "well"?

My brother sacrificed his life for Marxism, and as his sister, I have devoted my entire life to building socialism.

I think that I have lived a good life for more than 90 years. If there is a world after death, I can tell my brother calmly: My life has not been wasted, I have always lived a good life, because I have dedicated my entire life to the most magnificent cause in the world - fighting for the liberation of mankind. "

Amid thunderous applause, the old lady slowly hobbled off the stage.

It was like a grand farewell ceremony.

Later, Mu Liang met Mr. Li Shuran again at a funeral.

It was just Mr. Li Shuran’s funeral.

On October 1, 2008, when the whole country was celebrating National Day, Mr. Li Shuran, a famous nuclear physicist and winner of the National Highest Science and Technology Award, passed away at the age of 96.

This prosperous world is just as she and he wished.