"Can I still drink it?"
In a dark corner at the end of the street, a tall figure folded his hands on his chest, leaning against the wall behind him, raised his head and smiled at Ron.
Ron looked at the bottle of wine in his hand, smiled and said:
"This is the most domineering wine, of course I have to drink it...General Kuzan."
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I ask for all support, free gifts, thank you, my cervical spine still hurts today, sorry for the late update.
Chapter 136 Being in the Navy, You Are So Handsome
Marine Headquarters Marin Vando, cemetery.
"You owe him a drink."
Sitting on the wet ground, Kuzan pointed to the extraordinarily large tomb in front of him, and said something jokingly.
There is a tombstone in front of the grave, but there is no name on the tombstone.
Ron knew the owner of this tomb.
Kuzan's best friend, the giant lieutenant general Sauro, died at Kuzan's hands during the O'Hara Demon Slaying Order incident that year.
He shook his head slightly, smiled and said:
"no problem."
He picked up the sherry in his hand, raised his head and took a sip, then turned the bottle upside down in front of the grave.
clap la la...
The amber spirit was poured on the ground and was quickly absorbed by the soil. The air that was originally filled with the fresh smell of earth also slowly filled with the fragrance of spirit.
The wine bottle was empty.
Kuzan watched this scene dumbfounded, and couldn't help rubbing his temples.
Even if you want to pour it, can you buy a bottle next time and pour it yourself.
I didn't take a sip...
Kuzan let out a long sigh, and he decided not to drink with this brat in the future.
It's fine if you don't buy it, I can't even take a sip every time!
He glanced at Ron resentfully, shook his head helplessly and said:
"When to set off?"
Ron was taken aback, pretending to be puzzled and said:
"Set off?"
Kuzan glanced at him, didn't say anything, just stood up slowly, and pulled down the blindfold.
He raised his hands and stretched his waist, yawned and said:
"Now it's your turn to owe me a drink."
After speaking, he left the cemetery, leaving Ron sitting there alone.
The night was getting darker.
The cemetery in the dark night is filled with a layer of mist, and the air seeps into bursts of damp and cold.
Ron sat there, suddenly couldn't help laughing.
Is it that easy to see through yourself?
Everyone knows they can't go.
But everyone knew they would go.
He shook his head and stood up.
But just when he was about to leave the cemetery, he paused, and then walked towards the other direction of the cemetery in a strange manner.
Marin Vanduo's cemetery is still as empty and huge as the memory of the last time.
The rolling hills are densely covered with graves.
Ron suddenly discovered that there were many newly built tombs, and the brand new tombstones on them had not had time to engrave their names.
Many, many people died in the Battle of Marin Fanduo and the Battle of Ait Wall.
But in the end, only a few were "lucky" to have their bodies recovered and finally buried in this place.
Most of those who died in battle will be swallowed by the vast and endless sea and return to the embrace of freedom.
Some people say...the so-called soldiers must be shrouded in horse leather and die in battle?
Ron didn't think so.
Even if he crossed over, he was still the same in his bones. What he longed for in his heart was... Even if he died in battle, he would return to his roots.
A great death, if there is not even a tombstone, if there is not even a decent funeral, such a story is very regrettable, right?
While thinking, Ron walked towards his destination.
Then he stopped suddenly.
The blood on his face faded little by little, turning pale.
He stuck there like a piece of clay.
In front of the familiar tombstone with the blood-colored military uniform and broken saber hanging, two figures stood there holding pale yellow wild chrysanthemums in their hands.
The two figures were one tall and the other short, the slightly taller one had a stooped back and gray hair;
The figures of one old and one young stood in front of the tombstone, shrouded in thick mist, looming.
As if aware of something, the old figure slowly turned around, holding a cane in his hand, a soft smile was outlined on his wrinkled and mottled face.
"Are you here to worship too?"
His voice had a hoarseness unique to an old man.
Ron's whole body suddenly seemed to be struck by a thunderbolt.
The figure of the old man in front of him is very hunched, not much taller than the child next to him.
The traces of the years, relentlessly written all over his face.
There was a shocking old scar on his face, spreading horizontally from his left eye to his right eye.
He is already blind.
Ron gritted his teeth, and didn't know what to say for a while, and stood there motionless, his body trembling uncontrollably.
"Brother, are you alright?"
The tiger-headed little boy next to the old man looked curiously at the red-eyed brother Haijun in front of him, and couldn't help asking.
He scratched his head suspiciously,
"Dad said that a resonant man is not allowed to cry."
He held up the wild daisy in his hand.
"Send you flowers."
The moment the voice fell, Ron couldn't hold back after all, tears oozed from the corners of his eyes.
Because he saw the bloodstains on the little boy's tanned arms.
It was a red scar from being scratched by a cat.
Keng!
The old man tapped the little boy's head lightly, making the latter make a sound of pain.
"Don't talk nonsense! These are the flowers for the sacrifice!"
He immediately said to Ron apologetically:
"Sorry, children are not sensible."
Ron forced a smile and said:
"It's ok."
……
Old people, kids, navy boys.
The three sat quietly in front of the tomb with the broken knife hanging on it.
The night is dark and the fog is deeper, like an invisible monster of a nightmare, devouring everything and burying people's hearts.
"So young man...do you know my brat?"
The old man took out a pack of crumpled cheap cigarettes from his arms, took out one, and handed it to Ron tremblingly with his skinny hand like a tree root.
Ron stared blankly at the cigarette handed over by the old man, took a moment to take it, and said in a low voice:
"I had the honor to fight with Lieutenant General Huoshaoshan."
The old man lit a cigarette, took a deep puff, and slapped the little hand of the little boy next to him who was trying to steal a cigarette, and said with a smile:
"You flatter that brat too much."
He raised his closed eyes and "looked" at the grave in front of him.
"...I, an old man, still don't know how he got back as a lieutenant general from the headquarters..."
"He, he can't even bear to kill a chicken, and brings stray cats outside his home every day. How can such a soft-tempered person become a vice admiral?"
The old man rambled and said.
As he spoke, he took out a jug of spirits from the basket beside him, and drank one gulp after another.
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