In the seventh year of the Republic of China, there was a severe drought in the north and successive wars.
Shen Xingzhou climbed out of the pile of dead people and fled south. I met a man on the roadside. He was almost dying of hunger. He squatted in the dusk and was pushed around without saying anything back. He stuffed the last bun, turned around and left.
That person's name is Jiang Jinyue. He followed Shen Xingzhou.
From abandoned railway stations to dilapidated ancestral halls, from villages and towns to military camps. While Shen Xingzhou charged, Jiang Jinyue was reading the map and waiting for news from behind. He kept the kerosene lamp on every day, waiting for the man to open the door and come in.
The whole battalion knew that next to Captain Shen's bunk was Jiang Wenwen's seat. Someone asked Shen Xingzhou what your relationship was, and he said he was a member of my family.
It was peaceful after the last battle.
Shen Xingzhou fell on the front line at the age of twenty-one.
Fifty years later, in a small southern town, a jujube tree in the yard grew taller than the eaves. The kid next door asked the white-haired old man in the courtyard: "Grandpa Jiang, who are you waiting for?"
He looked at the dusk and said: "Waiting for someone who owes me a meal."
The wind has stopped for fifty years.
The wind watcher is too old to walk.
The wind is always twenty-one years old.
Intention: People who love each other may not stay together, but those who have been loved will have light for the rest of their lives.