We must not forget our roots
In the days that followed, Zhang Chenglin and Lu Mingqian led their respective teams, traveling to various parts of Linyi, winning battle after battle and bringing peace to each county. What was fired from the barrel of a gun was not bullets, but a peaceful and prosperous world for the people.
*
Mid-June, Zaozhuang, Shandong.
The Japanese army that invaded Shandong entered Zaozhuang a week ago. Tan Yuanbo's troops who stayed in Zaozhuang made all the necessary preparations for the battle, thus avoiding the beginning of the Japanese army's massacres in every place they entered.
The Japanese army suffered heavy casualties in the first battle in Zaozhuang. After opening up and occupying Yantai, the first city in Shandong, the Japanese army urgently dispatched a large number of troops to support the Eighth Route Army troops left behind in Zaozhuang. Outnumbered, the Eighth Route Army suffered defeat after defeat, and finally the Japanese army opened the gates of Zaozhuang on the evening of a week later.
The reinforcements from Qingdao, Jinan and other places arrived a step later than the Japanese army. Ye Yibai, the commander of the Zaozhuang garrison, had no choice but to send people to escort the people out of the city.
"We can't leave."
Inside the Flower Moon Pavilion, in response to Ye Yibai's request to "escort the women and children out of the city first," Aunt Rong was followed by more than a dozen girls from the pavilion, speaking neither humbly nor arrogantly.
Ye Yibai felt a chill run down his spine. He had heard countless times from Lu Mingqian and others that this "mother" of Huayuelou was difficult to deal with, but he never thought she would be this difficult.
The current situation of the two armies is not optimistic. The Japanese army may set up artillery on this street at any time. At that time, not to mention this building, not a single person on the whole street may survive.
Even when life and death were at stake, she still had the delusion of holding onto her golden house.
“My building is in the west of the city, which is considered the safest area in the whole city. Those elderly, weak, sick, disabled, and wounded soldiers who cannot leave the city can all be sent here, and the girls in the building will take care of them.”
As soon as Aunt Rong finished speaking, the girls behind her nodded in unison, their eyes filled with a firmness that came from the depths of their souls.
Ye Yibai's heart skipped a beat, but when he glanced to the side, he saw the deputy general standing opposite him nod slightly.
With time running out and the mission pressing, Ye Yibai said nothing and led his men out of Huayue Tower.
The lieutenant walked out alongside him, saying as they went, "The only hospital in Zaozhuang has been occupied by the Japanese. These past few days, the wounded soldiers have been secretly taken in by Huayuelou. I just received the news when I arrived, and I didn't have time to report it."
After pondering for a long time, Ye Yibai finally ordered: "Send more people to the vicinity of Huayue Tower, and have all the doctors in the team go to Huayue Tower as well. Aunt Rong is right, Huayue Tower is indeed the safest place right now."
“However,” Ye Yibai suddenly changed the subject as the deputy general was about to accept the order, “when it’s time to leave, let the girls in the Flower Moon Pavilion leave first.”
The lieutenant understood his meaning and immediately made the arrangements.
Ye Yibai and his men had just walked out of the street in front of Huayue Tower when they saw a woman walking over from the other side and entering the tower.
Ye Yibai looked at that figure, paused in his steps, and felt a strange feeling welling up in his heart.
Having followed Tan Yuanbo for a long time, he had naturally heard stories from many people about "Mr. Zhang from Shanghai" and his favorite person in Zaozhuang. Some people spread rumors and looked down on him, while others praised him and sincerely hoped for a happy ending.
In chaotic times, where can one find so much perfection?
This is because when someone is in great trouble, that person is not there to support them.
Fengyue entered the Flower Moon Pavilion and, after exchanging a few words with Aunt Rong, was pulled into her room by Aunt Rong.
Aunt Rong took a small box from the cabinet by her bedside and handed it to Fengyue, repeatedly urging her: "The situation in Zaozhuang is not optimistic. I don't think this building will last much longer. I just hope these young soldiers can recover soon, so that they can go home safely when the war ends."
Fengyue looked at Aunt Rong's slightly haggard face, said nothing, and waited for her to continue.
"This box contains the indentures of the women in the brothel. After the war ends, if you see any of the girls who have left, take it and return it to them. They should live a good life from now on." Aunt Rong's eyes held emotions that Feng Yue couldn't understand. She gently stroked the corner of the small box with her thumb and continued, "The rest is all the savings I've accumulated in the brothel over the years. I've calculated it, and it should be quite a lot. Take it to Mr. Zhang and have him give it to the Party and to the soldiers still fighting in the war. I enjoyed a long and good life while they were enjoying the prosperity. Now that they are in trouble, I can't selfishly continue to live a good life."
“You…” Feng Yue began to speak, but before she could finish, Aunt Rong interrupted her again, “Of course I love money, but I always remember that I am Chinese. One should never forget one’s roots.”
Fengyue finally left Huayuelou with the box full of silver notes and her sincere heart. Aunt Rong stood on the second floor, watching her stubborn back with a smile on her face.
Many, many years ago, her lover from her youth died under the bayonets of the Japanese, so she knows the hatred of the country and the hatred of her family. Now, in this situation, her anxiety and sadness are no less than anyone else's.
She lived a mediocre life, but at least she found a good home for Fengyue. With the war raging, she had Zhang Chenglin by her side, and if all else failed, there were Ji Yuxing, Ji Ruqiong, and others. There was always one who could protect her through these chaotic years.
fine.
She thought.
Three days later, the troops that came to support from Qingdao, Jinan and other places were blocked outside Zaozhuang City by the Japanese army's long guns and cannons. Except for Huayue Tower, Zaozhuang City had long been a ghost town.
Ye Yibai and his last men held out for two days, but finally ran out of ammunition and food and died in the city.
The iron hooves of the Japanese army shattered the twilight of Zaozhuang. As the sound of boots rolling over bluestone slabs came from the street corner, the Huayue Tower was filled with the mixed smell of herbs and blood.
More than twenty wounded soldiers lay in a cubicle on the second floor. The girls of Huayuelou were using burnt scissors to cut open their blood-stained uniforms. Blood seeped from the cuts on their fingertips caused by shrapnel, but no one had time to utter a sound.
A Japanese soldier wearing a helmet askew kicked open the half-closed wooden door of the Huayuelou, the butt of his rifle dragging on the ground with a grating sound, followed by a chaotic clamor of countless footsteps, making people uneasy.
The officer with triangular eyes behind him glanced at a medicine jar lying in the corner of the lobby on the first floor and sneered, "It seems that Ye Yibai's remnants are hiding here."
The soldiers behind him immediately raised their guns, but he stopped them with a raised hand.
"Don't rush," came the awkward, broken Chinese, "I've heard that the Flower Moon Pavilion in Zaozhuang is a treasure trove, the girls there..."
Before she finished speaking, Aunt Rong came out of the kitchen carrying an empty tray, the silver hairpin in her hair gleaming coldly in the dim oil lamp.
"Gentlemen, your visit so late at night, would you like a cup of tea or a piece of music?" Her voice was as calm as a frozen lake, but her fingers secretly tightened around the scissors hidden under the tray—scissors she had deliberately left when cutting bandages for wounded soldiers.
The man with the triangular eyes sized her up, then suddenly his gaze sharpened as he noticed the dark red bloodstains on her cuff. He stammered, "Call everyone in the building out, especially those in military uniforms."
Aunt Rong remained silent, slowly put down the tray, turned and walked towards the stairwell, her voice carrying down the wooden stairs: "The girls are all upstairs serving the guests, gentlemen, please follow me."
She pushed open the doors to the cubicles on the second floor one by one. In the first room was Yanxiang holding a pestle, in the second room was Heyu feeding water to the wounded soldiers, and in the last room there were three soldiers with broken legs lying there. The girl covered their injured legs with blankets, and they looked fine.
The man with the triangular eyes took two steps forward and reached out to pull back the blanket closest to him. The girl standing next to him held her breath and dared not make a sound.
Just as the triangular-eyed man had his hand on the blanket, at the critical moment—
Aunt Rong suddenly grabbed the oil lamp from the corner of the wall and smashed it hard against the corner where firewood was piled up.
Flames erupted instantly, licking the wooden floorboards. She spread her arms to block the doorway to the cubicle, like a mother animal protecting her cubs: "The wounded soldiers aren't here at all, you won't find them!"
The man with the triangular eyes staggered back half a step, choked by the thick smoke. He then drew his military knife, his voice filled with rage: "Pour gasoline on them! Burn them alive!"
The fire spread rapidly with the help of the wind, but none of the girls ran away. Yanxiang picked up the medicine pot and smashed it hard against the triangular-eyed man. Heyu tore the bed curtains and wrapped them around the soldier's gun next to her, then pulled hard—and was thrown out along with the gun.
Aunt Rong watched as the soldier at the forefront raised his bayonet. She gripped the plum blossom hairpin her lover had given her in her youth, which was in her pocket, and with a twist of her wrist, she plunged it fiercely into the man's neck—
As the bayonet pierced her chest, she used her last strength to push Yanxiang beside her toward the hidden door leading to the attic: "Live! You must live!"
Inside the attic, five wounded soldiers were using broken guns to support themselves, with a group of trembling girls and a team doctor behind them. Despite their fear, they stayed here to guard the last door of the Flower Moon Pavilion.
The gunshots and screams amidst the flames downstairs were terrifying, yet they also ignited a fighting spirit within us.
A young soldier with a missing left arm gritted his teeth and stood up: "Let's block the stairs!"
The boy soldier behind him was only sixteen years old. His right leg was injured by a shell, but he was holding a rifle against the window: "I'm guarding the back window, no one can climb up here."
When the man with triangular eyes burst through the stairwell, he was met with medicine bottles and benches thrown by wounded soldiers with all their might.
The one-armed soldier used his teeth to bite open the grenade's fuse. The moment the Japanese soldiers rushed forward, he counterattacked into the crowd, and the explosion shook the attic, causing dust to fall.
The young soldier lay prone at the window and knocked out a Japanese soldier who was trying to climb out with the butt of his rifle. Blood seeped from his wound and pooled on the windowsill.
"How many bullets are left?" someone asked hoarsely.
The young soldier, feeling the last three bullets in his rifle, suddenly saw three signal flares light up the distant night sky—
Reinforcements have arrived!
Just as he was about to shout, a bullet pierced his chest. As he fell onto the windowsill, he saw a vast expanse of torches surging from the direction of the city, like a burning dragon, illuminating the sky...
"It's Commander Tan!"
Someone shouted first, and the girls in the attic suddenly craned their necks, as if they could see salvation even through the thick walls.
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