Chapter 1570 The Responsibility of a Generation (Second Update, Please Subscribe)
Until the end, Kang Mingwei was unable to save his comrades. When the tanks assisted in the attack, the sniper disappeared.
Despite the support of tanks, the U.S. troops in San Francisco still put up very tenacious resistance. They used all their strength to resist. Landmines kept exploding. Once a tank weighing only a few tons hit a mine, its tracks would be blown off, and even the entire body of the tank would be blown over two or three times. In the violent explosion, the tank soldiers had no chance of getting out alive. The enemy forces resisting in the city were not a large force, but their tenacity in resistance really made people feel that they were defending their land to the death.
The fighting became increasingly brutal after entering September. The once intact city was turned into ruins. The streets were littered with corpses, both military and civilian. Even the troops had to step over the corpses to move forward during the attack.
Even in the fierce battle, there was a rare moment of leisure. After finally capturing a block, Kang Mingwei led the soldiers in the company to a relatively intact group of buildings, most of which were villas with gardens. It definitely looked like a wealthy area.
"Everyone has it. Find housing by platoon and rest on your own. Okay, everyone rest and disband."
After saying that, Kang Mingwei walked to a western-style house, sat on the steps and looked at a map.
Zuo Minghui and Li Zilong were both fellow villagers from Qingzhou. After finding a house to stay in the platoon, they saw the neighboring yard - a large mansion surrounded by a wooden fence, one corner of which had been collapsed by a shell.
"Although one corner is tilted, this house looks very grand and majestic. Let's go over and take a look. Zilong, let's go and take a look together."
Li Zilong, who was dozing off just now, stretched himself and stood up.
Li Zilong did not bring a gun, and Zuo Minghui, carrying a rifle, walked up the stairs carelessly.
"Excuse me! Is anyone in the room?"
Of course, no one was there. The broken curtains on the shattered windows were blown out by the wind. The dishes were scattered all over the house. Every room was in a mess. It seemed that they had been looted. The cabinets in the living room were on the floor, and the drawers were pulled out. In a Western-style bathroom, dirty water was accumulated in the bathtub. After searching everywhere, no one was found, and there was nothing interesting. Finally, I walked into the large room with a spiral staircase on the first floor and welcomed Li Zilong, who came in later, according to American etiquette.
"Ah, Mr. Li, welcome!"
Being in this magnificent mansion, he could not help imitating his host, who led him into the smoking room.
"Mr. Li, what would you like to drink? Whiskey or brandy?"
The two men sat on the large sofa like two important figures, looking around curiously. The oak bookshelf was very exquisite, with all kinds of books on it. It was obvious that the owner was a person who loved reading. Things were placed in a messy manner on the large desk, and the drawers were all open. There were scattered books everywhere on the ground. Obviously, this place had also been looted.
Sitting on the large and soft sofa makes people feel very comfortable. Looking up at the antique chandelier on the ceiling, every single thing shows the luxurious life led by the owner of this room. There are several landscape paintings hanging on the wall, outside the window is green land, and the curtains make rustling sounds in the wind.
The two of them pretended to drink the water and started chatting.
"Mr. Zuo, the world has been in turmoil lately. What's going on?"
"Sir, the President is also worried. He came to visit me the day before yesterday. We haven't seen each other for a long time. I told him that the Empire will not do unreasonable things, please rest assured!"
"Indeed, the invasion of the Empire is also for the good of the Americans. Only when the Empire comes can ordinary people live a good life. Otherwise, the rich will get richer and the poor will get poorer!"
"really……"
Suddenly, the "big shot" stood up and walked to the desk. He found a strange object on the floor beside him. Zuo Minghui took it in his hand and looked at it carefully. It was a three-inch wide and six-inch long stone product with exquisite patterns carved on it.
"It's an inkstone!"
Zuo Minghui shouted excitedly, with a serious expression on his face.
"Look, Zilong, it's an inkstone!"
It was indeed an inkstone, and it looked quite weathered. Although ink sticks had long been eliminated in the empire thanks to modern industrial ink making, and only a few literati would use ink sticks and inkstones for grinding ink, they also knew about the four treasures of the study: pen, ink, paper, and inkstone. There were even several well-known brands of pen, ink, paper, and inkstone in the empire, and their quality was no less than that of Tangshan.
Zuo Minghui, with his arms folded, studied it intently.
"Well, this is indeed a good thing, probably a cultural relic from the former Ming Dynasty."
Because there was no inscription on it, Li Zilong was just guessing. But Zuo Minghui remained silent. When Li Zilong asked him "what happened", he spoke with some grief and indignation.
"China has a long history. How many cultural relics are there from ancient times to the present? The Qing invaders stole our Chinese artifacts, killed hundreds of millions of our compatriots, and implemented a policy of ignorance for two hundred years, which made our people lose their spirits and civilization regress. The closed-door policy made Chinese civilization lose the opportunity to communicate with external civilizations. Since the Opium War, the country's doors have been opened and Westerners have invaded. Since then, countless Chinese cultural relics have been lost overseas..."
Like all Ming people, Zuo Minghui was a typical Huaxiaist. His bold words suddenly came out of his mouth. He straightened his back, spread his legs, waved his arms, and continued speaking.
"The Chinese people of 400 million have a long history, just like the Yellow River and the Yangtze River. From the time when Suiren drilled wood to make fire, Emperor Yan tasted hundreds of herbs, Cangjie created characters, and the time when King Wen, King Wu, Qin Shihuang, Emperor Gaozu of Han, Emperor Taizong of Tang, and Emperor Gao lived until today, we Chinese will always be Chinese. Our bloodline and our civilization will never perish. Although the Qing dynasty used butcher knives to kill and fool the people, and although it made my people conservative, when my compatriots broke the shackles of the Qing dynasty, their curiosity and their love for science immediately revived. In just a few decades, they rose to become a world-class power. China will always be China, and the water will never change. Terrible China, respectable China!"
Looking at his comrades who were expressing their heroic words, Li Zilong stood up and said after a glance.
"Okay, okay, you can tell by looking at the foreigner's corpse. Stop talking so much and go back."
Standing up, Zuo Minghui picked up the inkstone respectfully and carefully put it into the canvas bag on his waist. He felt as if he and it had merged into one in some way. Wasn't the inkstone the product of the Chinese civilization that had been passed down for thousands of years? It was thanks to it that civilization could be written and passed down. China expanded from the Yellow River Basin to all directions. It was not just the sword that was relied on. It was more about civilization, and the inkstone... was a part of civilization.
At this moment, he suddenly felt a sense of sacredness, a sacred sense of responsibility. Perhaps in the eyes of the Americans, they were invaders, but what? They brought civilization, the Chinese civilization. They brought advanced civilization to this land, changing this land and the people on this land, just like the Americans changed the Indians...
“Oh, this is our responsibility!”
(End of this chapter)
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