Chapter 1140 The Returnee's Notes 214
Sunlight streamed through the clear window and shone on the table, where dust motes danced in the light, creating a warm and inviting atmosphere.
Walking onto the street, the ground was covered in mud because of yesterday's cold rain.
As the saying goes, "When there is no wind, there is three feet of dust; when it rains, the streets are covered in mud." The sandstorms in Beijing at that time were no different from the sandstorms in modern society. They hit people's faces with the wind, making it impossible to see the road ahead, and making them feel that there were wolves and tigers everywhere.
But after the sandstorm, spring arrives in full bloom, with peach and apricot buds just about to open.
Xie Ning walked out of the alley with an umbrella. The retro oil-paper umbrella aroused the curiosity of the children, but they only glanced at it a few times before their attention was drawn to the hawking sounds on the street.
Xie Ning followed. The stall owner, pushing his cart, smiled and asked Xie Ning as she approached, "Little girl, would you like a bowl of rice cakes?"
Then the white cloth was lifted, revealing a bowl of rice cake with distinct layers of red and white colors, and a rich aroma of dates wafted out.
This rice cake, also known as cut cake, is made with millet flour and glutinous rice flour, with some red dates and soybeans added. The amount is cut with a knife according to the buyer's needs.
"Give me a small piece," Xie Ning gestured, indicating a size.
Then the stall owner did cut it, but his cuts were inaccurate, making it a bit too thick, though not by much, which made it hard to complain.
Xie Ning chuckled, but didn't mind. After paying, she took a bite. It was sticky, soft, sweet, and chewy.
It tastes good, and the price isn't particularly expensive.
Xi'er could see it but couldn't eat it, and she was really craving it.
A burst of laughter came from the side; it was the children surrounding the douzhi (fermented mung bean juice) stall. They sat on small stools, sipped the douzhi, and then ate a bite of spicy pickled vegetables.
A child gulped down a bowl of the drink and wanted more.
The stall owner then ladled another bowl from the pot that was simmering over charcoal.
Xi'er had never tried this before, and asked Xie Ning, "Aren't you going to drink it? It looks delicious."
"I'll just have plum juice instead." Everyone says that you can appreciate the wonders of douzhi (fermented mung bean juice) after drinking it a few times, but Xie Ning felt that she shouldn't force herself.
Then Xie Ning bought a bag of fried sausages from a stall selling sour plum juice.
He said he was bringing Xi'er to see it, but Xie Ning himself actually wanted to see it too.
Xi'er chattered away, full of curiosity. Xie Ning could only pick out the answers she still remembered. After all, too much time had passed, and her memory had become hazy. Moreover, Beijing had changed a lot and was not like it used to be.
Before they knew it, the sky was filled with the glow of sunset. Xi'er's spirit had faded a little. Seeing the melancholy in Xie Ning's eyes, she couldn't help but ask in a low voice, "Have you been here before?"
Xie Ning came to her senses and slowly nodded. She had studied here and had been to Beijing twice during that era. Once was for a chance escape and hiding, and the other was to see the victorious red flag flying here.
Thinking of this, Xie Ning turned to look at Xi'er, "How about I take you to see the flag-raising ceremony tomorrow?"
"good."
If you want to watch the flag-raising ceremony, you have to get up early. In rainless weather, the flag-raising time is usually determined by the sunrise time.
When Xie Ning arrived, there were already many people there, and she also met quite a few foreign friends.
The morning breeze was chilly. A mother with a child pinched her child's chubby cheek in annoyance, "You always say it's hot. What will you do when you get cold and complain about a stuffy nose?"
By this time, there were already thousands of people in the square. Xie Ning squeezed into a perfect spot, then held up an umbrella in one hand and took pictures with her phone in the other.
Complaints kept coming from the side, so Xie Ning had to move the umbrella forward a little. But soon everyone quieted down as more than thirty flag guards marched past them in perfect unison.
As the solemn national anthem echoed across the square, the red flag, held by the flag bearer, traced a graceful curve as it rose slowly with the morning sun.
"I heard it, the echo of the bugle."
She seemed to return to that day, when the raging fire engulfed the entire pear orchard. The invaders and traitors that her sister had spoken of had all turned to ashes in the fire. Through the red flames, she heard the sound of bugles.
But she didn't know what that sound was or what it meant.
Later, Xie Ning told her that the short, impassioned voice represented an unyielding charge before death, an indomitable spirit.
As Xi'er's figure gradually disappeared, an old woman with tears in her eyes leaned on her cane and asked her granddaughter, "Why did I just hear the sound of a bugle call?"
His first instinct was to pick up his cane and run forward.
"Grandpa, you misheard."
The old lady beside her stared intently at the red flag; no, she heard it too.
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