Rise From Eight Hundred

Chapter 62: War Drums Match

“Boss, can you lend me your drum?”

The face of the middle-aged man in the robe changed several times, and he finally made up his mind. He squeezed out of the crowd and walked into a theater. He took off his robe, which was already covered with dirt, and placed it gently in front of the theater owner.

"In the next month of Changqing, I have fled here and have nothing else. Only this gown can be used as a mortgage!"

 “What’s the use of the drum, sir?” The boss was dumbfounded and asked after a while.

　　Although the middle-aged man seems to be down and out, his conversation and the firmness in his eyes are something that people dare not look down upon.

“Nothing but beating drums to cheer up our Chinese army.” The middle-aged man looked back at the outside.

The rumble of cannons has already resounded through the sky.

“Sir, if you anger the Japanese pirates,” the boss took a deep breath.

Although the Japanese are not treating the concessions now, since the war started in August, the reputation of the Japanese army bombing the Songhu Station with airplanes and causing a brutal massacre has spread far and wide. In anger, the Japanese army shot and killed middle-aged people with precise marksmen. It is by no means impossible for Chinese civilians to come forward.

"It doesn't matter, the Chinese army can die, and so can our Chinese people! Otherwise, what is the use of reading so many sages' books in my monthly life?" The middle-aged man looked indifferent.

"If my clothes cannot repay the damage to the drum, my son will come to pay for his father when he becomes an adult someday."

"Okay! How heroic! Who said that all those who have bad intentions are scholars? I think Mr. Yue's words and actions are quite like my Jianghu style!" A middle-aged man with a clear face wearing a black robe and a black top hat walked from the teahouse in the back room. Come out and praise loudly.

Turning to look at the boss who had not yet reacted, he said, "Boss Chen, give Mr. Yue the best and largest drum in your garden. If it is damaged, it will be credited to me, Mr. Du."

"How dare you, how dare you, how dare you trouble Mr. Du to be your guarantee? Mr. Yue is also cheering for our army. He can risk his life. How can I, Mr. Chen, be so stingy?" When the boss saw this man appear, he said nothing. Secondly, he directly ordered people to go to the warehouse to carry the drum.

The middle-aged man glanced at the two bodyguards in black clothes and black trousers who were following closely behind him. He knew that this man must be a well-established figure in the concession, and he immediately offered his hand to the man in black. It was a thank you, but he didn't say much.

Just in time, four big men brought out a big drum that was as big as the Eight Immortals' table from the warehouse. The middle-aged man took this opportunity to say goodbye to the man in black. He didn't take his robe and went out in his underwear with several patches on it. .

There was anger on the faces of the two bodyguards. Just when they were about to speak, the man in black smiled and waved his hands: "You haven't read books and don't understand scholars. He doesn't want to get involved with me and other people in the world." That’s all.”

"But this Mr. Yue has obviously forgotten that Jianghu people are also Chinese Jianghu people!" The man in black walked towards the window facing the street, looking at the other side hundreds of meters away, with fireworks in his eyes, as if his eyes were being burned. Pain, narrowed slightly.

 “Go and tell the girls in the big world that it was me, Lao Du who said it.”

 “Dong dong dong!” The sound of drums outside the window has already sounded.

 A large drum that required four strong men to lift was placed on an empty street less than ten meters away from the bank of the Suzhou River.

 A man wearing only coarse cloth underwear, with a drumstick in each hand, beat the big drum vigorously.

 “Dong! Dong! Dong!” The drumbeat is simple but extremely powerful.

The deafening sound of gunfire coming from 200 meters away seemed to be covered up by the dull drumbeat at that moment.

The middle-aged man beat the drum vigorously and sang in a low voice:

How do you say no clothes? Be in the same robe as your son.

           Repair my spear. I share the same hatred with you!

 “What is he singing?” The vast majority of Chinese people present could not understand it.

“He sang Qin Feng. Wu Yi!” A young student burst into tears at that moment.

Gradually, hundreds of people, whether they understand or not, whether they are young or old, whether they are poor or rich, stand behind the middle-aged people who are beating the drums hard.

Less than a hundred meters away from them, there was the black hole of the Japanese right-wing infantry pointing this way.

 However, more Chinese people gathered around, stood behind a beaten war drum, and sang along with the middle-aged man:

How do you say no clothes? He wears the same clothes as his son.

  Repair my armor. Go with me!

The roars of hundreds or even thousands of people turned into a roaring tsunami, as if this originally peaceful street had turned into another battlefield. "Yes, this is their battlefield! Facing the bullets that the Japanese invaders may fire at any time, the people who lost their homes did not retreat in embarrassment with their young and old. This time, they chose to stand in front of the war drum.

 Because, their soldiers are fighting! Their brothers are bleeding!

 Perhaps, this is the reason! "

Tantai Mingyue wrote this in his battlefield diary on the afternoon of the 27th.

After writing this paragraph, the war correspondent put down his pen and paper and picked up his camera, forgetting his identity as a reporter, and joined the crowd singing loudly.

For this female reporter, perhaps at this time she wants to become one of those brave ordinary Chinese people, rather than just a bystander and recorder.

 Because, I share the same hatred with you! Go with me!

 Fight with the men on the other side who are starting to bleed.

But she didn’t expect that a drum and a song would be just the beginning of today.

 In the trenches of Sihang Warehouse.

Tang Dao and his two infantry squads were hiding in the trenches without showing their heads. Everyone, including Tang Dao, changed into MP submachine guns and gathered more than 20 submachine guns. Apparently, they planned to give the approaching Japanese infantry a blow. Come and take it away in a wave.

But the Japanese tanks moved extremely slowly because they had to engage in firepower points in the warehouse, so Tang Dao and others had to wait patiently, waiting for the Japanese troops to approach within about 150 meters.

“Sir, there’s drumming and singing on the other side of the river!” Liu Datou climbed over to report to Tang Dao and smoked a cigarette. "I just don't understand what's being sung! Is it because it's in Jiangnan dialect?"

“That’s Qin Feng Wuyi!” Tang Dao explained to several soldiers who also looked puzzled.

Looking at the blank expressions on their faces, Tang Dao knew that explaining what "Qi Yue Wu Yi" means to these guys who may not even be able to write their own names would undoubtedly be playing the piano to an ox.

"Let's do this! There must be some educated people on the other side. They are singing ancient lyrics that we, the big-headed soldiers, can't understand. Let's sing something that everyone can understand." He turned around and took a peek to see that the Japanese tanks were still about 300 meters away. , It’s still too early to advance to the range you need, Tang Dao said.

 A minute later, more than 20 men started shouting after Tang Dao at the top of their lungs.

However, even though the two dozen men tried their best, the singing was still covered by the rumble of Japanese artillery.

 Except for own people in the warehouse.

Standing from the perspective of an army lieutenant colonel, watching his soldiers covered in mud in the wet trenches, with countless bullet marks and gravel flying over their heads,

But even though he was lying in the trench, with his face and body covered in mud, his eyes were bright and he sang loudly.

At that moment, although he could not hear clearly what they were singing, the Army Lieutenant Colonel clearly felt that no one in these soldiers was afraid of the life and death battle that would take place in a few minutes, even if the Japanese army had seemingly invincible tank.

 “Go and listen to what they are singing?” the army lieutenant colonel ordered to the signal soldiers around him.

 Three minutes later, the Army Lieutenant Colonel heard the singing of the soldiers on the front line on the first floor.

He slapped his hand **** the wall, startling Lei Xiong beside him.

However, the usually calm lieutenant colonel commander raised his thick eyebrows and became extremely impassioned:

 “What a great wall that will never fall down!”

 “Pass my order, all the infantry who are not participating in this battle for the time being, sing together with me!”

"I want this song to spread throughout China! We want the whole country to be in arms! Our Great Wall will never fall!"

 (End of this chapter)