I have removed my armor and returned to the field for ten years, and I just want to live a life of a bit of thin land. Until the teacher taught my son to read a poem, that poem was only used in the enemy's secret signals back then. I was shocked to realize that the orphan picked up from the battlefield was actually my own son, and the enemy had already reached the door. The movement of Chen Jiu climbing over the wall was lighter than that of my old yellow dog.
But he couldn't hide the smell of alcohol on his body, and he could smell the smell of low-quality burnt knives from three steps away. I put down the dry tobacco pole in my hand, without lighting the lamp, and glanced at him in the moonlight that filtered through the window.
The cleverest scout in the Red Sun Army back then, now has a full beard and skin as dark as the bottom of a pot. He looks like a mountain villager. But those eyes were still the same - even after drinking alcohol, they were so clear that they could make out human figures.
"General." He lowered his voice, leaned against the earthen wall in my room, and put half of the hare he was carrying on the table. "A few unfamiliar salesmen came over from Huxiaopo. I think something is wrong."
