“Boss, is this really okay?”

The old Daoist sat in the back, pointing somewhat nervously at the old man lying on his lap.

The old man was still in a semi-comatose state but was able to open his eyes, though only for a short while before closing them again, and his speech was intermittent.

He was awake.

He really was awake.

But this kind of awakening,

strictly speaking, should be considered a final burst of vitality.

He woke up,

and he would soon be gone.

He had been alive, holding on by a thread. Before, Zhou Ze thought it was because he had a strong life force or because of good medical care and some heavenly blessing, but now he thought that he probably had something he couldn't let go of, something that made him unwilling to close his eyes.

Xu Qinglang was driving the car. He drove fast, but also very steadily, and he had to be steady, because maybe a sudden stop or a sharp turn would cause the old man in the back to breathe his last.

Spiriting away a patient from the sanatorium, and a patient who had been dying and comatose for a long time, was a crazy thing to do, but Zhou Ze didn't regret it and didn't have the slightest psychological burden.

Although the old man didn't say it clearly, his attitude had already shown it:

Sanxiang Village,

had always been in his heart and had never been erased.

In fact, people are forgetful creatures, and they always subconsciously blur out the things they don't want to see and erase the memories that cause them pain.

Many people were unmoved and indifferent to the passing of the comfort women of the past, not knowing that their passing was equivalent to slowly sealing off that period of history from us.

Some things, in fact, cannot be forgotten.

When they reached the street of Xingren Town, Xu Qinglang got out of the car, and then, together with the old Daoist, they carried the old man out.

"Old brother, hang in there, we're almost there, almost there."

The old Daoist encouraged his 99-year-old brother.

Xu Qinglang felt the old man's hand on his shoulder, exerting a slight force.

The old man's half-open eyes also looked at Zhou Ze. His eyes were very cloudy, as if covered by a layer of gauze. His body was already exhausted, and he was going to rest, he needed to rest.

"The villagers are all there." Zhou Ze said very seriously, "I don't know what they're waiting for, but since you woke up because you heard me say the words 'Sanxiang Village,' it means I didn't look for the wrong person, and you're also concerned about them."

As he spoke,

Zhou Ze reached out and tidied the old man's sparse hair, and then buttoned up the buttons on his hospital gown.

The old man was already experiencing a final burst of vitality.

Whether he was right or wrong, later generations would have to say,

and it was difficult for modern people to relate to and evaluate the disputes of the past.

At least, one thing could be proven: when the old man was a soldier in the Tongcheng Security Regiment, he didn't desert or become a traitor. When a division of the Japanese army landed in the port near Tongcheng, there were no regular Chinese troops in Tongcheng.

But merely relying on the local armed security regiment and the spontaneous resistance of the residents, the Japanese army suffered quite a few losses. Even the local armed forces had planned to counterattack the Tongcheng city gate more than once. While the main force and main focus were shifting to the southwest,

in this isolated Japanese-occupied area, there were still people resisting, and there were still gunshots ringing out.

The old man was still looking at Zhou Ze, and as he looked, he began to cough. His teeth were almost gone, and his coughs seemed very weak, but he was smiling.

Then,

he laboriously reached out his hand, as if wanting to reach Zhou Ze.

The old Daoist next to him felt his heart clench, thinking that his old brother should just calm down and not exhaust himself outside before even going inside.

Zhou Ze stood there without moving,

allowing the old man's withered hand to gently grasp the clothes over his heart.

The old man grasped with difficulty.

Then, Zhou Ze felt two gentle presses on his chest,

there,

at the location of the heart.

After making this movement, the old man collapsed, as if all his strength had been drained, and his breathing began to become erratic.

"Let's go in, hurry."

After speaking, Zhou Ze began to circle around in place and then rushed toward the road, after which he disappeared.

Xu Qinglang took out a talisman and stuck it on his forehead. Instantly, his Yintang point began to turn black. Then, following suit, he also spun around in that spot a few times and rushed over.

The old Daoist also spun around a few times at the end, and then rushed forward,

hey,

he didn't get in,

hehehe.

The old Daoist's whole face wrinkled into a chrysanthemum as he smiled, truly feeling overjoyed.

The little monkey looked at the old Daoist's silly appearance from the side, slightly turned its body, indicating that it didn't know this old codger.

Entering Sanxiang Village again, Zhou Ze raised his head and found that the moon in the sky had almost turned blood red, which wasn't the case when he came in half a day ago.

From this, it seemed that his killing spree in the ancestral hall had intensified something, invisibly making the situation here even more urgent.

So, if this old man on Xu Qinglang's back couldn't resolve the situation here and break the deadlock, then Zhou Ze, as a ghost messenger, would probably have to call in the little loli to guard the exit.

Whether they could successfully defend the pass and prevent these fierce ghosts from falling into the human world,

was hard to say.

Xu Qinglang carried the old man in, and as soon as he entered, Xu Qinglang felt the person on his back slump. Xu Qinglang immediately widened his eyes in disbelief:

No way,

he's dead?

Old grandpa, don't scare me, you haven't even lived to a hundred yet?

Xu Qinglang anxiously wanted to turn his head to see the condition of the old man on his back, but he suddenly saw Zhou Ze looking calmly behind him.

"Put him down." Zhou Ze said.

Xu Qinglang slowly lowered the old man's body from his back. Turning around, he saw a young man standing behind him.

The young man was wearing a black military uniform, carrying a rifle on his back, and wearing a hat.

A very typical security regiment uniform, some parts of which were even patched, looking somewhat old. This attire was very common in recent popular war of resistance dramas.

He was dead.

Was this his soul?

The old man,

or rather,

the young man looked at Zhou Ze and Xu Qinglang, nodded slightly, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath, as if reminiscing, also as if commemorating.

At the corners of his eyes, two lines of tears dripped down.

He was dead,

but the tears were not flowing because he was dead.

In fact, death was more of a relief for him. He had been lying in bed for too long, and before he fell into a coma and lost consciousness, he had actually held on for too long.

He didn't know what he was holding on for. The comrades who had walked out of the years of war together had left one by one, and in the end, he was the only one left.

He was about to live to a hundred years old, but he wasn't living to live to a hundred years old. He still had people he cared about, promises he remembered, and...

debts of gratitude.

What the old man didn't know was that nine years ago, when he wasn't yet in a coma, there was a man named Li Shi who had planned to drive to the sanatorium to find him. He could have come here nine years earlier.

But that poster on the forum ultimately couldn't defeat his own fate. The fact that he could enter Sanxiang Village meant that he was already nearing the end of his life.

Li Shi, in the end, couldn't outrun his own destiny.

Perhaps, nine years ago, the villagers of this village hadn't gone crazy to this extent, and there were still people... who could talk, who could communicate.

They told Li Shi some things, and Li Shi also planned to go out to help them find the person who had been waiting.

At this moment, Zhou Ze saw the old grandpa and the little girl walking over from the village entrance again.

The postures of the old and the young were somewhat stiff. The little girl was pinching her sugar figurine, constantly tugging at it, and the old grandpa was carrying a hoe, his face green.

At the corners of their eyes, red lights were faintly visible, and at the corners of their mouths, saliva was constantly flowing out.

It's getting more and more serious,

here.

The young man walked forward, along the edge of the field, to the road.

He wasn't afraid at all because he didn't need to be afraid.

The debt in his heart for nearly eighty years,

today,

would be resolved.

The young man was already a nearly hundred-year-old man, but at this moment, he still took off his hat and waved it vigorously, shouting:

"Uncle Xu, Ah Hua!"

Just like eighty years ago!

The old grandpa heard the sound and was stunned for a moment.

The little girl also suddenly stopped.

The old and the young,

fell into stillness.

Xu Qinglang stood next to Zhou Ze with his arms crossed, somewhat worried, "Will anything happen?"

"We can only try." Zhou Ze said.

After a short while,

the crimson red in the old man's eyes began to recede, and he exclaimed, "Little Xiao Chen, Little Chen, you're back!"

The expression on the little girl's face also transformed from sinister to innocent, and she ran happily toward the young man, "Uncle Chen, you're back!"

The old and the young ran to the young man's side, overjoyed.

The young man turned his head, glanced at Zhou Ze and Xu Qinglang standing in the distance, and then nodded heavily to the old and young in front of him, saying:

"Yes, I'm back, I'm back!"

"What about the troops? Are the troops back? Yesterday, I heard that the Japanese devils are still killing people in the city, and the corpses are hung on the city walls."

"The troops, the troops are also back." The young man shouted loudly, "We're preparing to fight the devils!"

"Good!" The old grandpa waved his fist and then said, "Come, before you left, you told us to help collect grain and give it to the troops when the main force comes back to fight. We've collected all the grain in our village and hid it under the ancestral hall. The devils came here a while ago, but they didn't find it."

"Then do the folks still have food at home?" The young man asked worriedly.

"Hey, everyone volunteered. Everyone will eat some wild vegetables to fill their bellies. We won't die if we're hungry for a while. Of course we're hungry, but it's nothing."

The old grandpa took the young man's hand and walked toward the village, while the little girl was picked up by the young man, very happy.

Zhou Ze, who was in the distance, heard this conversation

and was somewhat touched.

The old man said that it was okay to be hungry for a few days,

but they had been hungry for eighty years.

Being hungry for a while, for people, is indeed nothing;

but eighty years of hunger is enough to make even a ghost unbearable. It's an unimaginable torture!

"Little Chen is back, the main force is coming back to fight!"

As soon as they entered the village, the old grandpa shouted.

The entire Sanxiang Village instantly boiled.

The old woman sitting at the door of the house, who was drooling while making shoes, shuddered, stood up, and shouted:

"Little Chen is back!"

The widow who was drawing water by the well and chewing on her hair immediately spat out the hair in her mouth,

her face blooming with a spring-like beauty,

revealing a touch of her charm, wriggling her waist, and shouting:

"Little Chen, if you don't come back, this old lady's breasts are going to shrink! When that happens, if I can't find a man, you'll have to take me!"

In the tiled house, the man who was boiling water immediately dropped the firewood in his hand and pulled his wife's hand to rush out of the house together.

The villagers gathered around,

together, they crowded around the young man and walked toward the ancestral hall.

The blind old man sitting at the entrance of the ancestral hall stood up tremblingly. He heard the voice, and he also heard the commotion. Little Chen, who had recovered from his injuries in the village before, was back.

He had said that the main force would soon come back,

he had said that the Japanese devils wouldn't be able to jump around for long,

he had asked everyone to help prepare food for the main force when it came back.

The blind old man dropped his crutch and knelt on the ground in the ancestral hall, groping on the floor tiles with both hands. Then, he lifted a few tiles,

and put his hand under the tiles. When the crowd poured into the entrance of the ancestral hall,

the blind old man held up the white rice in his hands,

and shouted:

"Little Chen, grain!

The grain that the villagers prepared for the main force,

we've been hiding it,

the devils didn't find it,

we're saving it for the main force!

Eat your fill, so you can fight the devils!"

The young man stood at the entrance of the ancestral hall, looking at the grains of rice constantly falling through the blind old man's fingers.

Slowly raising his head,

he cried.

Back then, he had been full of confidence, telling the villagers while he was recovering from his injuries in the village that the main force would soon come back.

The villagers believed him,

but in reality,

the main force didn't come back until almost seven years later. The villagers didn't wait until seven years later. In fact, less than a week after he had recovered from his injuries and went out to find the main force, the news that this village was taking in the wounded had leaked out.

The Japanese and puppet troops rushed here and massacred the entire village, old and young, as a warning to others.

This was also the reason why he didn't want to fight in the civil war and finally revolted.

Some people,

were still waiting for him,

waiting for him to return.

The Japanese had been driven away, and he should go back too.

"Can there really be such deep obsession?" Xu Qinglang was shocked.

"There must be external factors influencing it."

Zhou Ze raised his head and saw that the blood moon in the sky was slowly becoming clearer, and the baleful aura in the village was slowly dissipating;

at the same time, something crystal clear fell from the sky and landed in the pile of thatch in front.

Zhou Ze walked over, searched for it, and found a bronze ring from the pile of thatch, with strange patterns on it. When he held it in his hand, it felt heavy.

The words from earlier hadn't been finished.

Picking up the ring, Zhou Ze continued:

"But external things are ultimately external things. Some obsessions are deeply ingrained. External things can't stop them.

Otherwise,

eighty years ago, we would have been conquered."