artillery arc

Chapter 490: Thoughts Beyond Time and Space
Early morning two days later.

The moment Wang Zhong got out of the Studebaker car, he smelled a familiar fragrance in the air.

It was the aroma of Cantonese-style fried dough sticks. He immediately turned his head to look in the direction of the aroma. Sure enough, he saw that fried dough sticks were being sold in the window on the first floor of the teahouse. Inside the window, a shirtless chef with a cigarette in his mouth was making fried dough sticks.

Perhaps he was stained by the splashed oil, the chef cursed: "Damn it!"

Wang Zhong watched all this with deep emotion.

He originally thought that he had probably become an Ant, but now he suddenly realized that everything about his homeland was still in his heart, even the sizzling sound of the fried dough sticks in the pan was so familiar.

The people in Chinatown probably had never seen anyone with as many medals on his chest as Wang Zhong. Anyone who had nothing to do was looking over here.

Wang Zhong ignored their gazes. He walked towards the roadside breakfast vendor and looked at the food on the big bamboo plate.

He never knew what this kind of breakfast was called since he was a child. Anyway, it was a whole plate of rice cake-like thing, cut into many small cubes, and then eaten with soy sauce poured on it.

When he was a child, Wang Zhong didn’t like this simple breakfast. He preferred to eat pulled noodles and pork offal noodles.

But now, the saliva can no longer be stopped and is all surging in the mouth.

He swallowed hard, and his accent almost slipped out.

But the translator provided by the United States got there first and said in Cantonese: "How much is one portion?"

Wang Zhong could only say to Yakov in Ant language: "It looks delicious."

Yakov looked at the breakfast which could be described as simple hesitantly: "Is... is that so?"

Humph, you are such a short-sighted guy.

The vendor used skillful knife skills to cut a whole piece of white rice cake into pieces, poured soy sauce on it, inserted a bamboo skewer, and handed it to Wang Zhong.

The translator seemed to be about to explain how to eat it, but before he opened his mouth, he saw Wang Zhong grab the plate, pick up a piece with a bamboo skewer and throw it into his mouth, and then another piece.

Wang Zhong ate it so skillfully, as if he had been eating it for more than 20 years.

The translator looked at Wang Zhong suspiciously, then looked at Yakov, then took out a 20-cent coin and threw it to the vendor: "No need to change."

The vendor was grateful: "Thank you very much!"

After finishing his meal, Wang Zhong wiped his mouth and was about to walk down the street, but was stopped by the translator: "Wait a minute, General! This is the teahouse we booked! This is the headquarters of the ** Hall."

Wang Zhong guessed that the translator translated the hall as headquarters. He looked up at the teahouse's sign, waved his hand and said, "Okay, lead the way."

Translation: "The president here is waiting for you in the private room on the third floor. Come this way..."

Wang Zhong nodded and followed the translator into the teahouse, then stopped at the place where donations were being collected for national salvation.

He understood every word on it, but he had to ask the translator: "What is this for?"

The translator's answer was very local: "This is a stall selling Seres war bonds."

Wang Zhong took out his wallet, took out all the rubles inside, and slapped them on the table: "I donated it."

The people guarding the stall were shocked, their eyes widened. He didn't understand Ante, so he could only ask in Angsa: "What? Do you want to donate?"

The translator quickly said, "Yes, yes, the General wants to donate. He is an Ant war hero and will support the fight against evil around the world. Take it."

The stall owner thanked him repeatedly, but immediately stopped and asked, "Well, whose name should be written?"

Translation: "Admiral Rokossov."

Wang Zhong said in Ant language: "Wang Zhong, write this."

It was the translator's turn to be surprised: "Ah? General? You are..."

Wang Zhong: "It's like this. When I was a child, there was a Khitan equestrian coach in my family. He gave me the name Seris."

The translator frowned: "Why didn't the Khitan equestrian coach give you a Khitan name?"

"I want him to name it for me. I like Sun Tzu's Art of War. And I know that 'Wang' stands for king, and 'Zhong' means loyalty and honor. It means being loyal to the king. Let him write it." Wang Zhong also took the risk and started to make up stories.

The translator blinked and said, "Okay, that's it. I'll go talk to the stall owner."

The man guarding the stall asked quietly, "Which one is the king and which one is the winner?"

The translator gave a brief explanation, and finally, Wang Zhong's name appeared on the donation list.

Looking at his own name which he hadn't seen for a long time, Wang Zhong nodded and walked towards the stairs.

The translator hurriedly followed: "This way, please! The host - I mean, the boss is waiting for you."

Unexpectedly, just as the translator finished speaking, an old man in a Tang suit came down from the building. Seeing Wang Zhong, he bowed and said, "General, it was Zhang who neglected you. Please apologize."

Wang Zhong was sure that his native dialect had not deteriorated, and subconsciously wanted to respond, but the translator started translating at this time, so he could only shut his mouth and wait for the translator to finish.

There was a young man standing behind the old man. He looked like he had just run up to the third floor and was still a little out of breath. It was probably him who told the old man about Wang Zhong’s donation.

After the translation, Wang Zhong immediately bowed and said, "Mr. Zhang, excuse me for disturbing you." "No way! We are all comrades fighting against the evil Axis powers, please come in!" He stepped aside, made way for the stairs, and made a gesture of invitation.

Wang Zhong took a step forward.

A moment later, everyone was seated at the carved round table on the third floor.

Mr. Zhang picked up the teapot and filled Wang Zhong's cup.

Wang Zhong subconsciously tapped the table with his fingers. After all, he had drunk morning tea many times over the years, and it became a habit.

Mr. Zhang saw this scene and exclaimed: "The general also understands our habits! Unfortunately, we really can't help the general now. To be honest, all the young people in Chinatown have returned to their hometowns to join the war. Look at our red sticks, they are all over 40 years old.

"As for the money, I'll tell you the truth..."

Wang Zhong: "No, I just came to see the hometown of Sun Tzu's Art of War. It helped me defeat the enemy along the way. Take this secret crossing of Chencang for example. Last year, I stole Proson's car and drove at night with the headlights on, and finally escaped the enemy's encirclement."

The Seris present all looked embarrassed, and finally the translator whispered to remind them: "That's the Thirty-Six Stratagems, not Sun Tzu's Art of War."

Wang Zhong laughed. "Is that so? It's okay. Anyway, it was the ancient wisdom of Seris that helped me escape! For me, Seris is my second home."

After saying this, Wang Zhong stopped to give the translator some time.

After listening to the translation, Mr. Zhang laughed and said with regret: "It's a pity that we don't have the habit of drinking in the morning, otherwise I must drink with the general until dawn. Come on, let's have tea instead of wine! Cheers!"

Wang Zhong picked up the teacup and drank it all in one gulp as if he was drinking wine.

It was obviously tea, but he felt a little tipsy.

Mr. Zhang clapped his hands, and tea and snacks were brought in one after another.

There are chicken feet, pork tripe, steamed buns, crystal shrimp dumplings and so on.

Wang Zhong looked at the delicacies he hadn't eaten for more than a year, as if he was looking at the mountains and rivers of his homeland, the lonely smoke in the desert and the setting sun on the long river.

At this moment, he felt that the black soil of Kosalia around his waist seemed to be trembling, as if his hometown in this time and space and his hometown in another time and space had produced a dislocated resonance.

Wang Zhong tried hard to control his hands, picked up a lion's head with chopsticks, and took a bite.

The rich aroma of pork and the crispness of water chestnuts rushed into his mouth at the same time, and his eyes became moist, but Wang Zhong pretended to be scalded and made a very loud noise so that no one could notice.

Fortunately, we had already rehearsed it yesterday.

so far so good.

Mr. Zhang immediately got angry: "How can you use something so hot? Look, you've burned your guests!"

Wang Zhong waved his hands quickly and almost spoke in Cantonese, but luckily he switched temporarily: "It doesn't matter, it's just that this thing smells too good, and I was in a hurry. You know, I often only have dry food on the front line, and a little sour cream and pickles are good. This is delicious."

Mr. Zhang waited for the translator to finish speaking, then laughed: "If you like, I can send a team of cooks to Ante! We can still support this!"

Really? Yay!
Wang Zhong really wanted to cheer! From now on, he can eat authentic Seris food in the military camp!

The joy overwhelmed his homesickness, and even made him forget what the Ants should say at this time. In a hurry, he shouted in Carolingian: "Bolabo (good)!"

Mr. Zhang also laughed: "Bolabo!"

After Wang Zhong finished eating the lion head, he reached for the shrimp dumplings with his chopsticks.

At this time, Yakov finally gave up fighting with the chopsticks, picked up the fork, and stabbed a lion's head. Because he was afraid of the heat, he put it close to his lips to feel it first.

Then he asked doubtfully, "This doesn't seem particularly hot... Ouch!"

Wang Zhong retracted his kick at Yakov's shin bone and tasted the shrimp dumplings with great relish. He praised as he ate, "Good! Really good!"

Yakov stared at Wang Zhong in confusion for a few seconds before taking a bite of the lion's head with doubt.

Then, two unrelated expressions, confusion and admiration for the deliciousness, twisted together on his face.

The pleasant morning tea time lasted until noon.

After he was full, Wang Zhong finally remembered: "Wait a minute, do I still have to give a speech?"

The translator said awkwardly, "Well, we didn't arrange a speech session, because even if we did, we really couldn't buy more war bonds. In fact, we overpurchased every issue of bonds. We very much hope that the United States Navy can destroy the Fuso Empire Combined Fleet as soon as possible."

Wang Zhong: "Thinking about it, it is indeed a bit strange for a general like me, Ante, to come here to give a speech. However, I really like Seris's food, so please send a cook as promised!"

"Of course, of course." Mr. Zhang said, "I, Zhang, am a man of my word. When you return to Ant, the cook will definitely be on the same plane with you."

Wang Zhong nodded, then asked Yakov: "What are the plans for this afternoon?"

Yakov: "You will attend a parliamentary consultation meeting this afternoon on the next stage of assistance to Ant."

Wang Zhong: "Okay, let's go now."

Having morning tea in the morning only satisfies Wang Zhong's personal desire. This meeting in the afternoon is extremely important to Ante.

(End of this chapter)