Chapter 1 Wocao, He's Awake!

"Wocao, he's awake, he's really awake, damn!!!"

The old Daoist looked at Xu Qinglang with some surprise.

He had just seen Xu Qinglang's finger move.

Immediately afterwards, his body tilted slightly.

"Old Xu, wake up quickly and start your harem conquest!"

The old Daoist shouted, intending to add fuel to the fire!

Immediately,

Xu Qinglang's body twitched, and he subconsciously turned over, retching towards the floor.

The old Daoist directly emptied the plastic basin that contained his dirty clothes, placed the basin under him to catch it, and stroked Xu Qinglang's back with his other hand:

"It's good that you're awake, it's good that you're awake."

Xu Qinglang retched for a long time, but nothing came out. If Zhou Ze were here, he would have been able to tell that it was because of his long-term coma that some of his body's functions had entered a state of semi-hibernation. This retching phenomenon was a bit like starting a car that had been left in the freezing cold for a long time; it needed to warm up again.

After all, Old Xu was just in a coma, a kind of self-imposed closure caused by a "heart disease", and had nothing to do with being a so-called "vegetative person".

In fact, the probability of most vegetative people waking up is very low, and even if they are lucky enough to wake up, it is almost impossible for them to become like normal people. Most of them continue in a daze, unable to take care of themselves.

As for the kind of vegetative person who wakes up and can still remember everything from before and can continue to "have fun" and fall in love,

That kind of thing can basically only happen in romance novels and TV dramas.

After vomiting for a while,

Xu Qinglang opened his eyes,

He glanced at the old Daoist and the little loli beside him,

Then, feeling drowsy, he turned his head and fell asleep again.

This time, it was just the body resting; the person was actually awake.

"You wait here, I'll go get you some soup to drink and nourish your body."

The old Daoist happily ran out.

The little loli glanced at Xu Qinglang, who was lying on the bed with his chest rising and falling slightly,

She curled her lips,

And muttered in a low voice:

"It's true that people of a feather flock together."

Old Xu was awake, which was a happy thing. The old Daoist busied himself taking care of him, letting Old Xu drink and eat something before continuing to sleep. The old Daoist finally had time to take a shower, put on a clean Daoist robe, and went downstairs, returning to his place behind the bar.

A pot of old yellow wine, a plate of dried white tofu,

With a newspaper in front of him,

He occasionally took a small sip of yellow wine, then picked up a couple of pieces of dried tofu and put them in his mouth, humming a little tune, reading the little newspaper, and learning from the boss, stealing half a day of leisure from his busy life.

The large potted plant was placed next to the old Daoist to prevent mosquito bites, a privilege that only the boss used to enjoy, but now the old Daoist was enjoying it as well.

During the day, there were usually very few customers. Sometimes the old Daoist could sit here all day without anything to do, but this time, just as he was getting into the swing of things, three people walked into the Late Night Bookstore.

The old Daoist shrugged helplessly, put on a smiling face,

"What can I get you three?"

"A pot of Longjing tea, please."

The visitors were two young people and an old man who was even older than the old Daoist.

"Alright, sit over there and wait."

The old Daoist went to the back to make tea.

The two young people supported the old man and chose a seat not far from the bar.

The old man's face was covered with age spots. He was leaning on a cane, wearing a white, ripped short-sleeved shirt, and sat down with the careful support of the people next to him.

The two young people sat opposite him. One took out a recorder, and the other took out a notebook, ready to record something at any time.

"Oh, an interview?"

The old Daoist walked over with the teapot and teacups, placed them one by one, and poured the tea.

"Yes." One of the young people responded, pointing to the old man in front of him and saying, "This is a veteran of the War of Resistance against Japan."

"Oh, old brother, I admire you!"

The old Daoist gave the old man in front of him a thumbs up.

The old man sitting there just nodded reservedly. He had few teeth left, and seemed to have some difficulty speaking, and his hearing wasn't very good either.

To put it bluntly, at this age and in this condition, he really had one foot in the grave.

The old Daoist felt a pang of sympathy and said directly, "In that case, I'll treat you to tea today. I'll get you some snacks too."

"Thank you, boss." The two young people thanked the old Daoist.

"You're welcome, you're welcome. It's what I should do."

The old Daoist, who was usually very careful about money, was unusually generous this time. He went back behind the bar and picked up a few plates of dried fruits and melon seeds and brought them over. After putting them down, the old Daoist didn't go far. He grabbed some melon seeds and leaned against the bar, listening.

The old Daoist was born in the first two years after the founding of the country and hadn't experienced the war years, but he was the type of person who liked to hear stories and hearsay.

In earlier years, there were actually quite a few storytellers, but they slowly disappeared.

"Old gentleman, let's start now."

The young man asked.

The old man nodded.

The interview began.

The two young people were probably reporters from a small newspaper, doing a column about interviewing veterans of the War of Resistance against Japan.

The first sentence the old man said,

Made the old Daoist feel excited,

Only because although the old man spoke slowly and a little vaguely, his accent was from northern Shaanxi, which made the old Daoist feel especially close.

Damn it,

A fellow乡党 (xiangdang, fellow townsman)!

The old Daoist hesitated whether to give them something else. He would put the money in the bar himself. Public property was public property, and his own was his own. He, the old Daoist, wouldn't secretly take advantage of Zhou Ze.

After all,

Boss Zhou was so poor.

Looking at the way the boss grabbed that handful of silver coins last night and wouldn't let go,

The old Daoist felt a little pitiful,

How deep must his obsession be?

The old man's interview continued. He spoke very slowly, but his thoughts were very clear.

It was as if he had practiced it in his mind, or rather, he must have faced many interviews like this, and he had slowly gotten used to how to speak.

"Because I was a soldier in the Kuomintang army, I always felt like I couldn't hold my head up for a long time. Slowly, I developed the habit of being taciturn."

When the old man narrated this,

The young reporter immediately said, "Thank you for your hard work, Old Mr. Jia."

Another reporter picked up the teapot, refilled the old man's cup of tea, and handed it to him.

The old Daoist continued to crack melon seeds next to him, listening with relish.

Many things from that era are difficult to explain clearly, but at least the current social atmosphere is progressing and correcting mistakes, and people's perceptions are no longer as limited as they used to be.

As long as they are people who have shed blood for the country, in fact, there is no need to worry about their identity, nor do we need to worry about their personal morals. They themselves are already very worthy of respect.

"I joined the army back then, actually just to get a full meal. I was young at the time, only 14 years old when I joined the army. I didn't have much education, and I didn't understand any big principles. Many principles, I only understood later, and then I knew that it was glorious for me to fight in the war.

Fighting scattered, stumbling and bumping, by 1945, the troops were stationed in Shaanxi.

At that time, I was in the 2nd platoon of the 3rd company of the 3rd battalion of the 90th division of the 30th army of the 1st Group Army. The commander was Hu Zongnan, the army commander was Lu Chongyi, the division commander was Wang Huimin, the regiment commander was Gao Shuxun, the company commander was surnamed Chen, and the platoon leader was surnamed Liu.

I remember it very clearly. I have always remembered the designation of the troops. The people above forced us to remember it, saying that even if we died in battle, after we went to hell, we could call on the old subordinates to continue fighting the Japanese devils below."

The two reporters were patiently recording next to him. These would soon be published in the newspaper, with the aim of calling on society to care for and love these veterans of the War of Resistance against Japan, especially those from the Kuomintang army.

Just looking at the state of the two reporters, whose eyes were already red,

You could tell that after this report was published, many people would shed tears because of it. Everyone would be moved by this veteran of the War of Resistance against Japan, and would also scold...

The old Daoist frowned next to him.

That's not right.

In 1945, Gao Shuxun was the regiment commander?

How did the old Daoist remember that Gao Shuxun was the army commander in 1940?

And Gao was an old general from Feng Yuxiang's Northwest Army faction, so how could he run to work for Hu Zongnan?

Looking at this old man again,

Oh,

He must have misremembered it.

After all, he's old,

That's normal.

The old Daoist didn't say anything and continued to crack melon seeds.

"The troops moved to Hanzhong, Shaanxi, and then fought against the Japanese devils in Baqiao and Weinan, near Xi'an.

I forgot the designation of the Japanese devils' troops, but I only remember that their guns were much better than ours. They used Type 38 rifles, and our troops used Hubei rifles.

The battle was very fierce, and our casualties were always more than the Japanese devils. Because I was young at the time, my comrades took good care of me. Once, when I was fighting the Japanese devils, an enemy shell exploded on my thigh. I didn't feel any pain at the time, but my pants leg was covered in blood, and my shoes were full of blood. My comrades saved me and took me to the field hospital to recover from my injuries...

………………

After the war against the Japanese devils ended, during the War of Liberation, our company commander led us to revolt at the front line.

Because,

Chinese people don't fight Chinese people..."

One reporter was already wiping away tears with a napkin,

The other reporter choked and said, "Chinese people don't fight Chinese people, good, well said. You've been wronged, Old Mr. Jia. These years of suffering and grievance will be rewarded.

This is the payment for our interview this time. Please accept it and improve your life.

The people of the motherland will not forget you, and society will not forget you. We will help you publicize..."

"Wait, wait!!!"

The old Daoist on the side couldn't listen any longer. He immediately stepped forward, slammed the table hard, and scolded:

"You're talking nonsense!"

"Boss, what do you mean?" The young reporter frowned and looked at the boss.

The old Daoist didn't bother with the two reporters in a hurry, but instead pointed at the old man who had just finished speaking and was putting away the thick stack of red envelopes, and scolded:

"The more you talk, the more outrageous it becomes!

One of the things our Tongguan elders are most proud of is that no matter how much the Japanese devils' planes bombed, they never let the Japanese devils cross Fenglingdu!

You've already fought in Baqiao and Weinan,

Damn it,

Go back and ask the Japanese devils, did they cross Hangu Pass back then!"

After speaking,

The old Daoist pointed at the two young reporters who were still in a state of "感动中国 (Gan dong Zhongguo, Touched by China, a Chinese equivalent of 'moved to tears' )":

"Have you two lost your minds? You just casually hired a swindler to interview, and you're still crying like crazy. Is your brain full of paste?"