The door of the courtyard house has been welded dead

Early in the morning, newsstands in Shanghai were already buzzing with excitement.

The newspaper delivery person was panting heavily in the cold weather as he unloaded a bundle of bundled newspapers from the back seat of his bicycle to the door of the newsstand.

As soon as the front foot landed on the ground, a sharp knife fell on the binding strap with the back foot and broke with a sound.

"Uncle Ya, give me one!"

"I want one too!"

The crowd gathered around the newsstand, waving banknotes in their hands, and even threw them into the newsstand in a hurry.

"Don't be anxious, don't be anxious, come one by one!"

The newsstand salesman, whose forehead was soaked with sweat, looked at the wrinkled banknotes stuffed in his pocket, and looked very anxious. Finally, he simply picked up the pile of newspapers, threw it directly on the newsstand stall, and waved Wave.

"Forget it, I won't charge you any more, just take it!"

The newspaper, still smelling of ink, quickly fell into the hands of people who stopped. The anxious crowd quickly found a step after getting it, or simply leaned against the wall to read.

"TMD, you deserve it. You, a loser, have nothing to do and fly over our heads!"

"This time Lord Ma opened his eyes and let them have a good look. As long as they dare to fly this way, we will beat them down!"

When the people who took the newspaper saw the black and white photo on the cover, which looked like a plane pieced together from the wreckage, their first reaction was to cut it out and paste it on their walls.

"We are not what we used to be. It really was decades ago. Jie Fangjun is not a vegetarian. He fought against you more than ten years ago and he can still take care of you now!"

It's so satisfying. Only the kind of pride that comes from the heart can say such confident words!

I haven’t seen this scene for a long time. Whether it was the people at the newsstand or the newspaper delivery staff, although they were tired and out of breath, and their waists were sore from unloading newspapers, their backs were straight.

Old Song at the newsstand knows what it feels like to be proud and proud. In the past, here, in the concessions everywhere, even a foreigner had to bow his head and make money in a miserable way.

Now, even if he didn't make any money today, his mood was really good. He picked up the big tea vat and took a gulp of water. He pinched his waist with one hand and waved his hand and said.

"Yes, I thought it would be alright if I hid high, so I stabbed him down with a bamboo pole!"

"Haha, Lao Song, have you seen this plane? It was shot down from a height of more than 1 meters. How can your bamboo pole be so long?"

The crowd around him was as happy as Lao Song. It didn't matter whether the newspaper was free or not. The most important thing was that the dog's paw was broken, and everyone was lucky and honored.

"Haha, it doesn't matter if it's long enough or not, as long as it's easy to use, you see if they still dare to worry about it. After more than ten years, the dog still can't change its habit of eating shit!"

"Okay, Lao Song, how many newspapers you deliver today will be counted on me. You should keep the little money you have for your retirement!"

"Teacher Zhao, how can that be possible...!"

"Okay, okay, I am holding a pen and cannot be with the frontline soldiers, but I still have an obligation to let everyone know and publicize the wolfish ambitions of these people!"

With that said, another old man who was teasing Lao Song just now took out a stack of Big Black Ten, threw it down and left.

Such scenes are not limited to Shanghai.

In the bustling streets of the capital, many people are even late for work because they are reading newspapers.

At this time, everyone's hearts on this land were tightly tied together because of this incident. No one expected it.At this time of the year, Waiguoren actually delivered a big firework to the doorsteps to cheer up the Chinese people who were preparing for the New Year.

The production of the steel rolling mill also came to a halt this morning.

The workers who were immersed in production were just like the passengers on the train who saw the beautiful scenery and got off the train for the time being to savor it carefully.

"More than 1 meters, this iron lump can fly so high!"

"Hey, you don't understand this. Haven't you ever played with a kite? As long as there is wind, you can fly as high as you have rope!"

"According to what you said, if this thing is so simple, can our factory also knock it out like this!"

Unlike outsiders, the workers working in the steel rolling mill workshop actually analyzed the trivial parts in the photo and discussed whether they could make them at home.

While everyone was paying attention to the newspaper, Huang Yaqin's mother was the only one sitting at the table in the office, with a worried look on her face, indifferent to the big news in the newspaper.

No matter how she looked at the drawings on the table today, she couldn't stand the data. In her eyes, those numbers were flying everywhere. This was completely different from when she was concentrating on work in the past.

"Lao Zhang, tell the section chief that I'm going to take a day off today!"

The worried Mother Huang finally put aside the drawings that she couldn't stand. After packing up the documents on the table, she said hello to the person on the opposite table.

"Sister Ying, go ahead. I'll tell the section chief when he comes back!"

Huang's mother hurried downstairs, arrived outside the factory gate, flagged down a three-bounce "taxi", and hurried home with red eyes.

"Old Huang, what are you talking about? Are you not harming your own daughter?"

The cold wind outside hissed into the trunk of the car along the gaps in the canvas. Huang Mu wiped the corners of her eyes and kept cursing her husband in her heart, which was even colder than the weather outside.

After arriving at the gate of the compound, Huang's mother hurriedly paid for the taxi and ran home in a hurry.

After opening the door, I saw that Lao Huang had not gone to work today.

Seeing her husband sitting in front of the sofa, Huang's mother became furious. She picked up the bag in her hand and smashed it over her face.

"Whatever Zheng Chaoyang wants to do to you, just do it. You really don't regard him as your son. You will only be happy if your daughter is a widow!"

Still not relieved, Huang's mother gritted her teeth and picked up the broom behind the door, swung it up and hit Old Huang hard on the forehead.

"Mom~!"

Huang Yaqin's whine stopped her mother. She was leaning against the door. Her two long braids had fallen into a ball. Her eyes were red and her face was pale, like a paper figure.

"Oh, my daughter, your father is sorry for you, please stop crying, mother feels sorry for you too!"

The broom in her hand suddenly fell to the ground. Huang's mother hugged her daughter at the door, and the two burst into tears.

Lao Huang, who was sitting on the sofa, his eyes slightly lowered, the cigarette in his hand, and the burnt ashes fell on the coffee table.

During the Chinese New Year, a family of three lost the joy and laughter of last year. Two of them cried bitterly, and another one sighed on the sofa. The whole house was filled with only clouds of sadness.

"Dingle bell~!" (End of this chapter)