Spy War: That Year, the Japanese Forced My Brothers and Me to Dig for Soil

In 1932, the world was in chaos like a pot of rotten porridge. My brother and I grew up without parents. We were nineteen years old and were raised by an old beggar who picked up rags. Outsiders only think of him as a beggar who begs for food on the street. Only we know that the master is a country master who has withdrawn from the circle and taught us the skills of identifying soil, finding holes, and touching things silently. That afternoon, a group of people came to the gate of the courtyard. A traitor in a silk shirt, followed by a group of neatly dressed Japanese soldiers carrying 38 hats. It turns out that this traitor was the master's junior fellow student. He came here to help the Japanese find a large tomb with a valuable treasure, and wanted to invite the master to come out of the mountain. The master sat on the threshold, smoking dry cigarettes one after another. The pipe and pot were clearly extinguished, and his brows were knitted into a tight knot. He glanced at us with his peripheral vision, and his voice was so deep that he was hoarse: "Guo Po Mountain is still there, and the things belonging to our ancestors cannot be thrown away. If you use the children to threaten me, you will not die!" The traitor's face suddenly turned cold and he spat. "I call you Senior Brother to give you face. If I don't call you, you are nothing! You're a beggar, and you're worthy of teaching me a lesson?" This novel and its characters are purely fictitious. Any similarity is purely coincidental and should not be imitated.