Chapter 123 Humiliating the Sichuan Army
The night market is bustling with people.
There are all kinds of things for sale.
Shen Tinglan only took a quick look around and didn't buy anything she particularly liked.
There were a few elderly men selling loquats on the roadside.
The things are neatly stacked on the winnowing basket.
The Dragon Boat Festival is coming soon.
Loquats are about to go off the market.
Then buy some.
Shen Tinglan stood there and looked at the old men selling loquats.
I chose the one who looked the oldest, he must be in his seventies or eighties, right?
She walked over in small steps, squatted down and asked carefully: "Grandpa, how much are your loquats? I want to buy them all."
"Little girl, you can take them all. Just give them as you see fit. We grow them all ourselves and can't finish them all."
Although the old man spoke in a hoarse voice, he was full of energy.
Shen Tinglan tilted his head to look at the old man. He was skinny and had a darker complexion. His cheeks were sunken with only a piece of skin sticking to them. His wrinkles were deep, but his eyes were full of energy.
Shen Tinglan said and laughed: “How can that be, grandpa? It’s all grown with hard work.”
"Can you please get a big bag and help me pack it? Can you scan the code?"
The old man's hands were shaking a little. He stood up and slightly bent his knees to support the winnowing basket.
The words were clear: "Little girl, we are using an old phone."
Shen Tinglan quickly took the bag next to him and took it.
A big bag can weigh more than ten pounds.
Shen Tinglan finished dressing: "It's okay, I'll go to the store next door to change, I'll be back soon."
The old man smiled kindly and nodded, then placed the winnowing basket beside the flower bed passing by.
He lit a pipe and started smoking.
His companion who was selling loquats next to him chatted with him briefly.
Bang……
The dustpan was kicked away without any warning.
The blow hit the old man's slightly bent back, encountering resistance and finally landing at his feet.
It jolted a few times before coming to a standstill.
The old man lowered his head, picked up the dustpan, and apologized gently: "Sorry, I'm blocking the road."
Holding the dry pipe in his hand, his eyes fell on the person kicking the dustpan.
The words of apology that he wanted to say suddenly stopped.
Disdain flashed in his dark eye sockets.
He waved his pipe in front of the two men, too lazy to pay attention to them, and sat back down.
A man and a woman frowned at the strong smell of dry tobacco.
The man stepped forward, pointed at the old man, and spoke in broken Mandarin: "It's impolite... old man... apologize."
The old man stood up, tapped the man's hand with his pipe, and said in a sonorous voice, "Straighten your tongue, little bastard. When I was chopping your ancestors with my sword, you didn't even know where to pick up shit to eat."
At the same time, the old man looked back and said, "Old friends, don't you agree?"
Several people laughed dully and looked at the two men.
His expression was mixed.
The man didn't quite understand what they said, but judging from the expressions of the people, they probably didn't say anything good, so he put his arm around the shoulder of the woman next to him and asked.
"Juan-sang, what...does it mean?"
The woman's expression changed, and she translated in a low voice with a slightly euphemistic tone.
After hearing this, the man's face instantly became angry.
He raised his foot and kicked the old man, but the woman beside him pulled him back.
The atmosphere was tense.
Shen Tinglan changed money in the shop opposite and turned around to see the old man kicked over and sitting on the ground.
Run over.
Shit, what's going on? Money exchange.
The man was still cursing and no one could understand what he was saying. The other companions hurried over to help the old man.
Shen Tinglan squeezed in from the side and asked, "What's going on?"
Only then did I see clearly that the two people opposite me were both wearing kimonos and wooden clogs.
The old man himself did not speak. The old man who was supporting him explained to Shen Tinglan: "Just now, the dustpan accidentally blocked the road. The elder brother apologized first, but the brat refused to give in. After a few words, the brat started to fight."
Shen Tinglan bent down slightly and asked the old man: "How is it?"
The old man did not answer.
Shen Tinglan caught a glimpse of pain from the wrinkled and sunken eye sockets.
The blazing gaze represents the tenacity gained through suffering, passing through the dust of time and revealing a desolate scene.
Shen Tinglan was speechless.
His gaze dropped down to the old man's exposed arms.
The pupils suddenly contracted.
It was a gunshot wound, almost identical to the scar on the old man's shoulder blade.
It’s just that the old man’s scar is bigger.
Heart.
This won't end well.
Shen Tinglan calmed his mind.
He turned to the man and woman and said calmly, "Apologize."
Before the man could say anything, the woman stepped forward to defend him: "He was blocking the way, and look, he even scratched my skirt." She lifted the hem of her skirt to show everyone.
Shen Tinglan had a blank expression on her face: "I'll compensate you for your skirt, now you should apologize to this old man immediately."
"Who do you think you are?"
"She looks pretty good." The man said and wanted to take action.
Shen Tinglan's eyes darkened, and he gently turned the hand that was about to touch him.
"Crack..." the sound of a broken bone.
"ah…"
Shen Tinglan's eyes were cold, and his tone was unyielding: "Apologize."
The man's face was distorted with pain, and the woman opposite him became anxious and hurried forward to check the man's wrist.
He glared at her: "Vulgar woman, why?"
Shen Tinglan's tone darkened, and he approached and asked, "Are you Chinese?"
The voice was as cold as ice, and the woman was stunned, meeting Shen Tinglan's cold eyes.
He stammered, "I... I'm Chinese, so what?"
Shen Tinglan sneered: "Since you are Chinese, then let me tell you why?"
She walked towards the old man who was being supported by someone behind her, pointed at the scar on his arm and asked the woman, "Do you know what this injury is?"
The woman didn't care at all and rolled her eyes. "What's it to me? It wasn't us who did it. You know, if you hurt foreign friends, we can tell the embassy."
Shen Tinglan didn't answer, but shouted: "Gunshot wound."
He took a big step towards the woman and said, "It's a gunshot wound from the Anti-Japanese War."
The woman was rebuked by her stern aura and stood there in a daze.
The man next to her had his wrists hanging down, his face twisted and angry.
Shen Tinglan said in a threatening tone: "Why do you say that? I will tell you why now."
There are always many people at the night market.
At this time, their position was surrounded by people in three layers inside and outside.
The two men couldn't leave even if they wanted to.
Listen carefully to the mist sinking into your dantian, and your voice is mighty.
"With the blood of three million martyrs of the Sichuan Army spilled on the mountains and rivers of China."
"Thanks to the eight years of resistance by our Sichuan Army, the Japanese never set foot in Sichuan."
"We, the Sichuan Army, will support all parts of the country on foot wearing straw sandals."
"The average age of the youngest child soldiers in China is only 13 years old, and the youngest is only nine years old. They all died for their country."
"The Chinese Red Army marched nearly 25,000 miles, with over 300,000 men, and only 30,000 remained."
"With China's 29,000 martyrs' cemeteries across the country."
"With only a gun and a pair of straw sandals, we, the Sichuan Army, earned the title of "No Sichuan Army Can Be Formed."
The woman's voice was clear and deep, each word powerful and majestic.
More and more people gathered, but no one spoke.
He just stared seriously at the woman in the middle with her back straight and her posture upright.
Shen Tinglan stepped forward, pressing forward step by step.
Mou Qing asked with bright eyes: "Go back and ask your father why most Sichuanese families don't have family trees?"
"Go back and ask, after the victory of the Anti-Japanese War, were every household in Sichuan hung with white silk and nine out of ten families were childless?"
"Go back and ask me how many heroic souls of the Sichuan Army are still wandering the world without remains?"
"Go back and ask if every household placed glutinous rice balls and noodles outside their doors after the victory of the Anti-Japanese War, just to wait for the heroic spirits to return home?"
"But are they back?"
"No." Shen Tinglan asked and answered himself with a choked voice.
There was indifference all around.
Most young people do not know about the heroic deeds of the Sichuan Army during the War of Resistance Against Japanese Aggression.
The older generation knows clearly from the older generation how cruel the war was.
War is never as simple as it appears on TV.
That's a life-and-death race where it's either you or me.
The battlefield was littered with broken arms and corpses and seas of blood.
They didn't even have time to grieve or say goodbye.
The comrade who was still talking one second ago became the other's cold corpse the next second.
War is so cruel and ruthless.
Now you are asking a veteran who has seen bullets and gunfire on the battlefield to apologize to the people who started the war.
Although the disaster will not reach future generations.
But the perpetrators have committed the despicable act of arbitrarily tampering with history.
Shen Tinglan really has no good feelings.
This is not a humiliation to them, but a humiliation to thousands of martyrs and heroes, and a humiliation to China.
She listened to Lan and refused to do it.
Even the Sichuan Army, which had sacrificed their lives and shed their blood, would not do so.
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