The moment the blade touched the back of his neck, Ma Kui smelled the smell of rust mixed with sweat.
That's his own sweat. The summer in Tianjin in 1946 was as sweltering as a steamer. The loess in the execution ground was hot from the sun, but he was cold all over. In front of him were Wu Jingzhong's figure standing with his hands behind his back, Yu Zecheng's side face with eyes downcast, and Cuiping's expression as if he was watching the fun with his arms folded - these images had been chewed on by him thousands of times on the way to the execution ground, and every frame was filled with poison.
"Ma Kui, what else do you have to say?"
Wu Jingzhong's voice seemed to come from a very far away place. Ma Kui wanted to smile, but the corners of his mouth were too stiff to lift. What did he say? That he is not a Communist? That he secretly investigated the webmaster to catch evidence of Wu Jingzhong's corruption? Ma Kui is said to be stupid all his life. He obviously just wants to climb up, but he doesn't even understand where to stand?
