Tao Yunling curled her lips, rolled her eyes at Cai Qiang, but stopped talking.
Su Mu turned around and glanced at Tao Yunling lightly, frowned, and then looked back. He took Su Xiaoli's hand, followed the actors and staff in front of him, and slowly moved towards the Nanjing Massacre.
Walk inside the memorial hall.
On the passage into the memorial hall, there are several bronze statues.
Su Xiaoli held Su Mu's hand and looked towards the bronze statues.
A ragged child lay on his mother's already cold body, sucking for milk. He was so young and didn't know that his poor mother had passed away long ago;
A thin young man struggled to carry the body of his grandmother who was killed by the Japanese army. His eyes were full of despair and sorrow. Even though hunger and fear had exhausted his strength, he still wanted to take his grandmother away from this place.
a place haunted by demons;
A skinny old man, with hands as dry as tree branches, undressing his grandson who was only a few months old but had already left this miserable world in the bombing. His weathered eyes were full of pain and sorrow...
Too many such infuriating tragedies happened when the Japanese invaded China. There are a large number of pictures, newspapers and memoirs from that time in the memorial hall, which truly repay the tragic history of that period of national weeping and bloodshed.
Su Xiaoli felt that she could no longer bear to read any more.
The sound of heavy and sad music came to her ears, which immediately brought her back to the scene of the disaster. She seemed to have seen with her own eyes the Japanese invaders raising their butcher knives and brutally killing their defenseless compatriots.
I saw those people's faces covered with blood, but they were still laughing wildly and arrogantly.
She had heard the term Nanjing Massacre over and over again, but she had never thought about the tragedy and sadness behind these five simple words.
When she saw the bodies of children in the photos who were as old as herself or even much younger than herself, her heart became extremely heavy and depressed.
However, what made her feel the most uncomfortable was the end hall of the exhibition hall, where there was an irregular, semi-open and closed room. There was clear water below the room, and a drop of water would drip from the roof every twelve seconds.
, at this time, there will be a portrait of the victim on the side wall and the lights will turn on and off.
Because these twelve seconds are the time that a person's life passes.
Because in this brutal Nanjing Massacre, on average, one compatriot was killed every twelve seconds...
Su Xiaoli held Su Mu's hand tightly, raised her head and glanced at him.
His brother's expression looked extremely solemn, his delicate eyebrows were tightly knitted, and his deep eyes were staring at the water drops that fell every twelve seconds without speaking.
Even Tao Yunling, who looked full of disdain before entering the museum, turned slightly pale at this moment. Her eyes, smeared with mascara and eye shadow, looked at the portrait on the side wall that kept lighting up and going out, flickering faintly.
A little tear came out.
"Fuck, it's so miserable. Fortunately, I wasn't born in that era!!" Cai Qiang followed Tao Yunling along the way and finally couldn't help but curse.
Tao Yunling looked back at Cai Qiang, stretched out her hand to put the sunglasses on her eyes, and then said to him with a cold face: "Why are you still standing here? Move forward."
