In order to win over the big customer Sha from the Middle East, he, the backbone of the sales department, personally took action and fought at the wine table. One glass after another, white, red, beer... The other party is obviously well versed in the Chinese wine table culture, and he has brought a huge number of followers. He remembered that he almost relied on willpower to hold on in the end. After signing the arms sales contract worth hundreds of millions of dollars, his vision went dark and he knew nothing.
Severe dizziness and nausea hit him, and he couldn't help but retching several times, but nothing came out.
At this moment, another huge and chaotic torrent of memories rushed into his mind, like a high-pressure water gun forced into a narrow water pipe. The pain was so painful that he almost fainted again.
Wang Chengzhu... Eighth Route Army...129Th Division... New Regiment... Commander Li Yunlong... Bantian Regiment... Cangyunling... Artillery... The last shell... Hit! ... Jumped up... Got shot...
Countless images, sounds, and emotions are intertwined: the barrenness and tenacity of the Taihang Mountains, the rough but sincere faces of the comrades, the cursing but contagious roar of the regiment leader Li Yunlong, the tension and vibration when firing the shells, the ecstasy when hitting the enemy chief, and the sudden, cold sting in the chest...
"Zhuzhu! Zhuzhu! You're not fucking dead?!
