That day when the county town sounded the air raid siren, I was dragging my lame leg to reinforce the load-bearing walls of the basement.
The neighbor screamed, "Missiles from China are coming," but I stared at the yellowing structural diagram in my hand and sneered.
The day before the "fake divorce", my ex-wife, who works at the Housing and Urban-Rural Development Bureau, secretly gave me this drawing of the city's civil air defense project.
As everyone rushed to the suburban shelter, I pried open the fire escape in the basement of the community.
Behind the rusted iron gate is an underground bunker built during the Cold War, with a complete water circulation system and three-proof filter.
He used the individual soldier rations he hid when he retired to grow the first mushrooms in an abandoned air raid shelter.
Until that night, the missile really hit the square, and the fleeing crowd beat on my iron door.
And a blood-stained note was stuffed under the door:
"Hold the call, the mission behind enemy lines is codenamed 'The Cultivator' - ex-wife Lin Wan"
