The day after the 9/11 incident, I came to Chongqing, a city I was looking forward to but had no idea about. Looking at the towering high-rise buildings on the mountain peaks and the abyss-like Jialing River water below the cliff. In my mind, I unconsciously began to replay what I saw on TV yesterday, the scene of the plane hitting the building, even though I was just sitting in the airport bus passing the Huanghuayuan Bridge. Before the excitement was over, I soon regretted that I should not have come to this city almost penniless, thinking that the school would take care of everything like before. Just when I was faced with the dilemma of having a penny (a lot of penny) stump the heroic man, she appeared, swaying like a rhododendron. This was the first time she helped me, a stranger to me, out of a difficult situation. Then many years later, many times, the word help could no longer bear the weight, and help became salvation.
This is an ordinary past event that happened under special circumstances and among special people. Sometimes I live a mediocre and absurd life; sometimes I try my best to catch up; sometimes the spring is warm and the flowers are blooming, love and hate are intertwined; sometimes the chicken is flying and the dog is jumping, and the song ends and everyone disperses. Excitement, joy, sadness, helplessness, everything seems not that special. But to me, everything that happened there seems to be unable to withstand scrutiny. After so many years, looking back, everything is lost in the thick fog of the city. Did they really exist? Did she really exist? Is she who saved me still there...
It tells a story about military school life that does not fit any impression. Welcome to read
Intention: These are memories created by me, but they are so real! Reminiscing about my military school life and the people I don't have to remember and will never forget