Siheyuan: tomb robbing? I am serious about hunting.

Chapter 940 Geography

He wore glass cufflinks on his white shirt collar, and his eyes were so hot that they seemed to burn through her. The sound of gongs and drums suddenly sounded, Lu Qinghuan took a deep breath, and with his sleeves fluttering, he walked onto the stage to the beat of the drums. "You look a bit like the actor in the story. If you are willing to tell that story, this glass moon is a gift to you." That night, Lu Qinghuan sat under the light of the shop and told the story that had been buried for many years. The young man listened attentively, adding glass raw materials to the furnace from time to time. When the story was finished, the new glass moon was also fired - this time, there were not only sleeves in the glass, but also two figures leaning against each other, never separated under the moonlight. "This is a new glass moon, for you." The young man handed the work to Lu Qinghuan, "The story should not only be sad, perhaps in another world, they have already reunited." Lu Qinghuan held the glass moon tightly, as if he felt the warmth of Fu Mingyuan's palm again. Walking out of the shop, the moon of Beiping was hanging in the sky. Although not as bright as the glass moon, it gently shed its light, illuminating this ancient city that has experienced vicissitudes. From then on, Lu Qinghuan would often take the two glass moons and sit on the steps of Guangde Building. She watched the young children in the troupe practice and sing, as if she saw herself in the past. And that glass moon has become an eternal legend in Beiping, telling the love and hate in the war, and the story of courage and perseverance that will never fade.

"Search for me!" Su Wanyi leaned against the safe and suddenly tore open the buttons on the collar of her cheongsam. Pearls rolled to the ground, and the dense explosive fuses on the lining of her cheongsam were exposed to everyone. She raised her lighter and smiled resolutely: "If anyone dares to move, we will die together!" The Japanese soldiers froze in place. Su Wanyi took the opportunity to rush to the ventilation duct, and Colonel Kawashima roared from behind: "Don't let her run away!" In the narrow ventilation duct, Su Wanyi's cheongsam was torn by the barbed wire. She didn't care about the pain and crawled forward desperately. When she finally crawled out of the ventilation duct, she was greeted by the black muzzle of a gun - it was someone from the police station. "Miss Su, come with us." The leading policeman sneered, "The Japanese have paid a high price for your life." Su Wanyi clenched the blade hidden in her sleeves and suddenly attacked. In the melee, she grabbed a gun and fired at the chasing Japanese soldiers. After running out of bullets, she ran into a dead end, with the enemy gradually approaching behind her. "Bang--" A gunshot pierced the night sky. A blood-red flower bloomed on Su Wanyi's cheongsam. She slowly slid down to sit on the wall, smiling as she looked at the blood-stained film in her hand. In the distance, the sound of the New Fourth Army's bugle call was faintly heard, like a final greeting to her. Three days later, when Su Wanyi's body was found, she was still wearing the broken cheongsam. No one knows how much blood and sacrifice are hidden under this gorgeous cheongsam; no one knows how much intelligence exchanged for life will play a huge role in fighting against invaders on future battlefields. And her story, like the wind on the beach of Shanghai, gently blows by, but leaves an indelible mark in people's hearts.

In 1935, in Shanghai, the sycamore leaves on Xiafei Road swirled and fell on the scarlet carpet of the "Paramount". Lin Yueru stood backstage, her fingertips gently stroking the mottled vine patterns on the brass horn of the phonograph, and the melody of "Night Jasmine" was flowing slowly in the machine. This German-made "Columbia" phonograph was the last thought left to her by her father, and it was also the most dazzling sign of the Paramount. "Yuerru, it's your turn to go on stage!" The urging voice of the foreman Wang Ma interrupted her thoughts. Lin Yueru gathered her pearly white cheongsam and pinned a jade brooch on her collar - it was the only relic of her mother. When the spotlight hit the center of the stage, her eyes swept across the audience and suddenly fixed on the figure in the third row wearing a dark blue gown. The man wore gold-rimmed glasses, and the coffee cup in his hand reflected her figure, with a faint smile on the corner of his mouth. After the show, the man walked straight to the backstage. "Miss Lin's "Songstress of the Ends of the World" sings out the soul of old Shanghai." He handed over his business card, "My name is Shen Yanqiu, and I'm a reporter for Shenbao." When Lin Yueru took the business card, her fingertips touched the thin calluses on his palm, which were the marks left by years of holding a pen. Every night since then, Shen Yanqiu would appear on time at the Paramount. He no longer just listened to the music, but also accompanied Lin Yueru to wipe the phonograph after the show. "Look at this needle," he pointed at the beating steel needle, "Does the vibration when it passes through the lines look like the pulse of history?" Lin Yueru looked at the sparks in his eyes and suddenly felt that this cold machine was also tinged with temperature. However, the good times did not last long. The artillery fire in 1937 broke the decadence of Shanghai. When the Japanese bombers flew over the Huangpu River, Lin Yueru was curled up in the basement of the Paramount, holding the phonograph tightly in her arms. Shen Yanqiu rushed in covered in blood and stuffed a mimeographed copy of the National Salvation Daily into her hands: "Yueru, I'm going to the front. Can this phonograph help me hide something?" From then on, there was a secret compartment under the phonograph. Lin Yueru dealt with Japanese officers and traitors every day, using the decadent music of "When Will You Come Back" to cover up her heartbeat of transmitting information. Once, Colonel Kawashima drunkenly hugged her waist, his fingertips almost touching the secret compartment of the phonograph. She smiled calmly and said, "Colonel, why don't you listen to this new record?" Then she changed to "Night Jasmine". In her hoarse voice, the secret code in the secret compartment trembled slightly with the melody. In the winter of 1941, Shen Yanqiu returned suddenly. His long gown was stained with gunpowder, but his eyes became more determined: "Yueru, it's time to evacuate." But just before they were about to leave, the Paramount was surrounded by Japanese troops. Lin Yueru stuffed the last piece of information into the needle box and pushed the phonograph to Shen Yanqiu: "Go! I'll hold them back!" When the gunshots rang out, Lin Yueru stood in the center of the stage and slowly turned the crank of the phonograph. The melody of "The Songstress of the End of the World" sounded again, mixed with the gunfire outside the window, turning into a tragic swan song. The moment Colonel Kawashima's bayonet pierced her chest, she seemed to see the night when Shen Yanqiu first came to listen to the music, and the moonlight was gently flowing on the copper horn of the phonograph. Time passed to 2019. Antique restorer Lin Xiaoman found this rusty phonograph when he was tidying up the old house. There were yellowed secret codes, faded photos, and a note in the secret compartment: "If you see these, I have completed my mission. Yueru, see you in the next life." In the photo, the woman in cheongsam leaned against the phonograph and smiled, and the man behind her had gentle eyebrows and a fountain pen in his hand. Lin Xiaoman stroked the vine pattern on the phonograph and suddenly found a half piece of jade stuck in one of the patterns. She carefully took it out and found that it fit perfectly with the pendant around her neck - it was a relic left to her by her grandmother before she died.