Lin Suning didn't ask for news about Zhou Huaian for many years.
She had seen him working for the Japanese and puppets, and had also sat in his interrogation room. After the victory of the Anti-Japanese War, she thought that such people had only two endings: escape or be liquidated.
Zhou Huaian survived.
In 1948, he died.
When the news reached Lin Suning, there was only a very simple sentence——
Died on the front lines.
She stared at those words for a long time.
Thirteen years ago, they were still studying in Peking. Xu Jingzhi and Cheng Yansheng quarreled every now and then, Chen Wanru always forgot something when she went out, and Shen Zhiyi's table was always piled with medicine and gauze. As for Zhou Huaian, the most memorable things at that time were probably his tardiness and his ugly handwriting.
Later, when the war broke out, the people who were sitting together dispersed one by one.
Some went to the army, some followed the ambulance team south, and some just walked and never came back.
Zhou Huaian was the first to become unclear.
At first, there was just a lack of information, but later, his name began to appear together with some places that should not be associated with it. Lin Suning found reasons for him and waited for him to speak.
In the end, nothing was expected.
In the winter of 1949, she saw Zhou Huaian again in a batch of old files.
That file is thin.
Not as thin as a person who has lived for more than thirty years.
