"Boss, can you lend me your drum?"
The face of the middle-aged man in the robe changed several times, and he finally made up his mind. He squeezed out of the crowd and walked into a theater. He took off his robe, which was already covered with dirt, and placed it gently in front of the theater owner.
"In the next month of Changqing, I have fled here and have nothing else. Only this gown can be used as a mortgage!"
"Sir, what's the point of drumming?" The boss was dumbfounded and asked after a while.
Although the middle-aged man seems to be down and out, his conversation and the firmness in his eyes are not to be underestimated.
"Nothing but beating drums to cheer for our Chinese army." The middle-aged man turned back and looked outside.
The rumble of cannons has already resounded through the sky.
"Sir, if you anger the Japanese pirates..." the boss took a breath.
Don't look at what the Japanese are doing to the concessions now, but since the war started in August, the Japanese army bombed the Songhu Station with planes regardless of civilian gatherings, causing a brutal murder. In anger, the Japanese army shot middle-aged people with precision shooters.
It is by no means impossible for Chinese civilians to come forward.
"It doesn't matter, the Chinese army can die, and so can our Chinese people! Otherwise, what is the use of reading so many sages' books in my monthly life?" The middle-aged man looked indifferent.
"If my clothes cannot repay the damage to the drum, one day when my son becomes an adult, he will come and repay it on his father's behalf."
"Good! How heroic! Who said that all those who betray their hearts are scholars? I think Mr. Yue's words and actions are quite like my Jianghu style!" A middle-aged man with a clear face wearing a black robe and a black top hat walked from the teahouse in the back.
Come out and praise loudly.
He turned to look at the boss who had not yet reacted, "Boss Chen, give Mr. Yue the best and largest drum in your garden. If it is damaged, it will be credited to me, Mr. Du."
"How dare you, how dare you, how dare you trouble Mr. Du to be your guarantee? Mr. Yue is also cheering for our army. He can risk his life. How can I, Mr. Chen, be so stingy?" When the boss saw this man appear, he said nothing.
Second, he directly ordered people to go to the warehouse to carry the drum.
The middle-aged man glanced at the two bodyguards in black clothes and black trousers who were following closely behind him. He knew that this man must be a well-established figure in the concession, and he immediately offered his hand to the man in black.
It was a thank you, but he didn't say much.
Just in time, four big men brought out a big drum that was as big as the Eight Immortals' table from the warehouse. The middle-aged man took this opportunity to say goodbye to the man in black. He didn't take his robe and went out in his underwear with several patches on it.
.
The two bodyguards had angry expressions on their faces, and just as they were about to speak, the man in black smiled, waved his hands and said: "You haven't read books, and you don't understand scholars. He doesn't want to get involved with me and other people in the world."
That’s all.”
"But this Mr. Yue has obviously forgotten that Jianghu people are also Chinese Jianghu people!" The man in black walked towards the window facing the street, looking at the other side hundreds of meters away, with fireworks in his eyes, as if his eyes were being burned.
Pain, narrowed slightly.
"Go and send a message to the girls in the world. Just say that it was me, Lao Du who said it..."
"Dong dong dong!" The sound of drums outside the window was already heard.
A large drum that required four strong men to lift was placed on an empty street less than ten meters away from the bank of Suzhou River.
A man wearing only coarse cloth underwear, with a drumstick in each hand, beat the big drum vigorously.
"Boom! Boom! Boom!" The drumbeat is simple but extremely powerful.
The deafening sound of gunfire coming from 200 meters away seemed to be covered up by the dull drumbeat at that moment.
The middle-aged man beat the drum vigorously and sang in a low voice:
How can I say that I have no clothes? I share the same robe with you.
Repair my sword and spear. I share the same hatred with you!
...
"What is he singing?" Most of the Chinese people present could not understand it.
"He sang Qin Feng. Wu Yi!" A young student burst into tears at that moment.
Gradually, whether they understand or not, whether they are young or old, whether they are poor or rich, hundreds of people stand behind the middle-aged people who are beating the drums hard.
Less than a hundred meters away from them was the dark muzzle of the Japanese right-wing infantry pointing this way.
However, more Chinese people gathered around, stood behind a beaten war drum, and sang along with the middle-aged man:
How can I say that I have no clothes? I wear the same clothes as my son.
Repair my armor and go with me!
...
The roars of hundreds or even thousands of people turned into a tsunami, as if the originally peaceful street had turned into another battlefield.
"Yes, this is their battlefield! Facing the bullets that the Japanese invaders may fire at any time, the people who lost their homes no longer backed down in embarrassment with their young and old. This time, they chose to stand in front of the war drum.
Because their soldiers are fighting! Their brothers are bleeding!
Perhaps, this is the reason!"
Tantai Mingyue wrote this in her battlefield diary on the afternoon of the 27th.
After writing this paragraph, the war reporter put down his pen and paper and picked up his camera, forgetting his identity as a reporter, and joined the crowd singing loudly.
For this female reporter, perhaps at this time she wants to become a member of those brave ordinary Chinese people, rather than just a bystander and recorder.
Because I share the same enemy with you! Let’s go together with you!
Fight with the men on the other side who are starting to bleed.
But she didn't expect that a drum and a song would be just the beginning of today.
In the trenches of Sihang Warehouse.
Tang Dao and his two infantry squads were hiding in the trench without showing their heads. Everyone, including Tang Dao, changed into MP submachine guns and gathered more than 20 submachine guns. Apparently, they planned to give the approaching Japanese infantry a blow.
Come and take it away in a wave.
However, the Japanese tanks moved extremely slowly because they had to exchange fire with the firepower points in the warehouse, so Tang Dao and others had to wait patiently, waiting for the Japanese troops to approach within about 150 meters.
"Sir, there is drumming and singing on the other side of the river!" Liu Datou crawled over to report to Tang Dao and smoked a cigarette. "I just didn't understand what was being sung! Is it because of the Jiangnan dialect?"
"That's Qin Feng Wuyi!" Tang Dao explained to several soldiers who also looked puzzled.
Looking at the bewildered expressions on their faces, Tang Dao knew that explaining what "Qi Yue Wu Yi" means to these guys who may not even be able to write his own name would undoubtedly be playing the piano to an ox.
"Let's do this! There must be educated people on the other side. They are singing ancient lyrics that we, the big-headed soldiers, can't understand. Let's sing something understandable for them all." He turned around and took a peek to see that the Japanese tank was still about 300 meters away.
, It’s still too early to advance to the range you need, Tang Dao said.
A minute later, more than twenty men followed Tang Dao and started shouting at the top of their lungs.
However, even though the two dozen men tried their best, the singing was still covered by the rumble of Japanese artillery.
Except for my own people in the warehouse.
Standing from the perspective of an army lieutenant colonel, watching his soldiers covered in mud in the wet trenches, with countless bullet marks and gravel flying above their heads,
But even though he was lying in the trench with his face and body covered in mud, his eyes were bright and he sang loudly.
At that moment, although he could not hear clearly what they were singing, the Army Lieutenant Colonel clearly felt that no one in these soldiers was afraid of the life and death battle that would happen in a few minutes, even if the Japanese army had seemingly invincible
tank.
"Go listen to what they are singing?" the army lieutenant colonel ordered to the signal soldier beside him.
Three minutes later, the lieutenant colonel heard the singing from the soldiers on the front line on the first floor.
He slapped the wall hard, startling Lei Xiong beside him.
But I saw the usually calm lieutenant colonel commander raise his thick eyebrows, showing a rare impassioned tone:
"The Great Wall will never fall down!"
"Pass my order, all the infantry who are not participating in this battle for the time being, sing together with me!"
"I want this song to spread throughout China! We want the whole country to be in arms! Our Great Wall will never fall!"
This chapter has been completed!