My era, 1979!

Chapter 101 Please Take Me Home (5K Long Chapter, More During the Day)
He couldn't finish his sentence, so he grabbed a steamed bun from the table and took a big bite, but couldn't swallow it.

Xu Chengjun then understood why his elder brother was late.

It wasn't the severity of the injury, but the overwhelming guilt weighing on my heart.

He imagined his older brother dragging his injured arm, searching for his comrades in the still-burning mountains, and then going alone to see his comrades' parents. His nose tingled with emotion.

"Siyuan fell behind to cover for me."

Xu Jianjun suddenly spoke, his scars appearing even more grotesque under the light.

Like a sick tiger baring its fangs.
“When the shells came flying, he pushed me away and didn’t have time to dodge himself… This second-class merit should have been his.”

He took off his medal and placed it on the table, the metal making a soft clanging sound as it struck the surface.

"I feel so sorry for his parents. Before I left, his mother gave me these insoles, telling me to take them home safely, but..."

He took out a pair of cloth insoles from his pocket. The word "peace" was embroidered crookedly on the coarse indigo cloth, and the stitches were so dense that the fabric texture was almost invisible.

"I gave my medal and pension to the village, but can money buy back a life?"

He clenched his fist tightly, and blood seeped from the wound under the gauze.

"What's my injury compared to Siyuan's? Siyuan didn't even have a chance to go home."

Xu Zhiguo silently lit his pipe, and through the swirling smoke, his eyes reddened: "You're right. A soldier's duty is to protect the country. Siyuan is a hero, and his parents will be proud."

"But his parents only have this one son."

Xu Jianjun's voice choked up, "I saw the certificates of merit pasted on his wall, from elementary school to high school, a whole wall full, just like Xiaomei's."

He looked at Xiaomei, his eyes tender yet pained, "I promised Siyuan that I would bring him home to eat Mom's stew after the war, but now..."

Lu Xiulan walked over and pushed a bowl of stewed meat in front of him. The meat was stewed until tender, and it was his favorite cut of meat with a good balance of fat and lean. "Jianjun, have something to eat. Siyuan is watching from heaven, hoping that you will live well."

She picked up a piece of meat for her son, but her chopsticks trembled violently.

Xu Jianjun picked up his chopsticks, but put them down as soon as they touched the meat. He suddenly stood up straight and bowed deeply to his parents: "Dad, Mom, your son is unfilial and has made you worry."

Then he turned to Xu Chengjun and Xiaomei, saying, "From now on, we'll rely on you two to take good care of Mom and Dad."

"Brother, what are you saying!" Xiaomei rushed over and hugged his uninjured arm. "You need to take good care of your injury. When you're better, teach me how to shoot!"

Looking at the bandage on his elder brother's arm, Xu Chengjun suddenly remembered the photos of the Sino-Vietnamese War he had seen in the memorial hall in his previous life.

In the muddy trenches, young soldiers ate dry rations while clutching their guns; in villages razed by artillery fire, soldiers carried stretchers and ran.

Those blurry images now appear as the scars on my brother's face, the enamel mug in his hand, and the blood-soaked bandages.

"Brother, you are a hero."

Xu Chengjun picked up the second-class merit medal from the table and gently pinned it back to his elder brother's chest. "Brother Siyuan too. You are all the pride of our family."

"Mom and Dad, don't worry about me. I'm here for you. But you have to take good care of yourself."

"You must take good care of Siyuan's share."

"Ah."

Xu Jianjun's shoulders trembled slightly, and this time, he did not hide the tears in his eyes.

The moonlight shone through the window frame, illuminating his wounded face. The scars flickered in and out of the light and shadow, yet they could not conceal the soldier's uprightness and fortitude.

Lu Xiulan reheated the dishes, and the aroma of stewed meat mixed with a faint medicinal smell filled the room.

Xu Zhiguo poured Jianjun a glass of baijiu, poured half a glass for himself, glanced at Xu Chengjun, hesitated for a moment, and then poured one for Xu Chengjun as well.

When the father and his two sons clinked their glasses, the sound of the glasses hitting each other was particularly clear in the quiet main room.

"Don't worry about us. I haven't retired yet, and your mother is in good health."

"Your younger brother is doing well now. He was admitted to Fudan University for graduate studies, and his book has been published in a major magazine."

"Your sister was just recognized as an outstanding employee in the factory, so you don't need to worry about her."

Xu Zhiguo has become unusually talkative today.

"Try the Shanghai cigarettes your brother brought," Xu Zhiguo said, pushing the cigarette pack towards him.

Xu Jianjun picked up a cigarette, lit it with his uninjured left hand, and his eyes softened in the smoke: "Chengjun has made something of himself, a graduate student at Fudan University, better than me."

"Brother, you're the amazing one, protecting our country."

Xu Chengjun put a piece of meat on his older brother's plate, saying, "Mom, this meat is stewed until it's tender, and it tastes just right."

Xiaomei chattered on about interesting things at the textile factory, trying to lighten the somber mood in the room. Lu Xiulan kept putting food on Jianjun's plate, but her eyes remained red.

The food on the octagonal table was steaming, the cicadas outside the window were gradually falling silent, and only the wall clock was ticking away, marking this belated night of reunion.

Looking at his family, Xu Jianjun saw the gray hair at his mother's temples, his father's hunched back, the concern in his brother's eyes, and the smile on his sister's face. Suddenly, the scar on his shoulder didn't hurt so much anymore.

The smoke of battle has not yet cleared, and the people who returned have grown old, but as long as home is still there, this pain and regret can always be slowly warmed up by the firelight in the stove.

He took a drag of his cigarette, and the smoke rings slowly dissipated in the lamplight, like the lingering smoke of battle, and also like the unspeakable longing and peace in his heart at this moment.
-
After reading "The Garland on the Mountain" in his previous life, Xu Chengjun gained a deep understanding of this war. Contrary to common sense, this self-defense counterattack against Y was actually divided into two parts.

The first part is the one everyone is familiar with: the war began on February 17, 1979, lasted for one month, and ended on March 16, 1979. During this month, our army fought bravely, advancing out of the northern mountains and into the heart of the Red River Delta, directly threatening the then-capital of the People's Republic of China. However, due to international pressure and pressure from our northern neighbors, we announced that we had achieved our goal of teaching the PRC a lesson and began to withdraw our troops.

The second part is the ten-year war. These ten years were actually spent fighting in the mountainous region bordering the rabbit and monkey tribes. But why did it last for ten years? This was due to a variety of considerations.

This is something that even the Rabbit Eagle government is unwilling to mention.

The reason is that the Khmer 'bobo' is just too outrageous.

Honestly, Bobo is really awful. But the "monkey country" (Khmer Empire) is definitely not a good guy who liberated the Khmer people.
-
The next morning, a light rain fell in Dongfeng County, and Xu Jianjun got up before dawn.

He changed into his crisply washed military uniform, carefully wrapped Huang Siyuan's enamel mug in red cloth, and put it into his military satchel along with his neatly folded military cap and worn-out notebook.

The bloodstains seeping through the gauze had turned dark red, but he seemed oblivious, staring blankly at the calendar on the wall.

“Brother, I’ll go with you.” Xu Chengjun brought in breakfast and saw him staring blankly at the martyr’s certificate. He sighed inwardly.

Xu Jianjun slept soundly all night yesterday, but was repeatedly awakened by nightmares, repeatedly shouting "Siyuan, hide quickly!"

Xu Jianjun looked up, his eyes bloodshot. He remained silent for a few seconds, then nodded. He had originally wanted to go by himself, afraid that the Huang family's tears would overwhelm him, but with Cheng Jun by his side, it was as if he had someone to support him.

He folded the certificate and put it into his bag: "After I pay the pension this time, I'll talk to my uncle and aunt."

"I'll do whatever you say, brother."

His voice was very soft, "Last time was too chaotic, and I didn't explain many things clearly."

Lu Xiulan handed them a basket of white steamed buns: "Tell your aunt that these were steamed according to her method, and let her try them."

Xu Zhiguo stood at the door smoking, and finally said, "Don't try to persuade them too much, just listen to what they have to say."

The country dirt road was softened by the sun. Xu Chengjun rode his bicycle with Xu Jianjun sitting on the back, their military satchels pressed tightly against their chests.

As they passed the village entrance, Xu Jianjun suddenly said, "At this time last year, Siyuan and I stopped here to rest. He said that after the war, he would go home and plant fruit trees, and tell his mother to stop planting corn."

“Brother, Siyuan always protected me before,” Xu Chengjun said, trying to make conversation and ease his brother’s mind. “I remember when I was in elementary school, I was bullied by kids from the neighboring village. He carried me for two miles and told people, ‘Xu Chengjun is my brother. Anyone who tries to mess with him will be punished.’”

Xu Jianjun's Adam's apple bobbed, and his voice was hoarse: "Siyuan has always been like this, warm-hearted and protective of those around him. When I went to the Third Front, I told him that I still had my parents to take care of at home, and he said, 'My parents are in good health, don't worry, I'll go with you.' Later, when he joined the army, he said, 'Wherever you go, I'll go, we brothers will defend our country together.'"

The rest of the words were left unsaid, but a sob lingered in the air.

Xu Chengjun looked at his elder brother's slightly drooping left shoulder and recalled the scars he had seen yesterday. The word "soldier" is not just about uniforms and medals, but about the stories hidden in scars, and the brothers who will never return.

The white banners in Huangjia Village are still there, but they have been replaced with new ones, fluttering gently in the wind.

Huang Shangxi was squatting at the gate of the courtyard, weaving bamboo baskets. The bamboo strips flew in his hands. When he saw them, he paused in his work, stood up, and patted the straw off his pants: "You're here."

The courtyard was quiet. Huang's mother sat under the eaves drying green beans. The green beans in the bamboo tray were bright green and were Huang Siyuan's favorite food.

She looked up and saw Xu Jianjun. She dropped two green beans from her hand, but she didn't cry like last time. She just moved the bamboo tray aside to make room for him: "Sit down. Here are some peanuts that I just dried. Try them."

Xu Chengjun noticed that there was a photo of Huang Siyuan on the table in the main room, in a new frame, and next to it was his military medal, which was polished to a shine.

The belongings that were scattered when I first came here are now neatly arranged in a wooden box, with a red cloth pressed on the lid.

"This is the pension and martyr's certificate sent by the military."

Xu Jianjun took out the documents and handed them over, his hand trembling slightly. "And... this is Siyuan's application to join the Party. The army said he had just passed the assessment before he sacrificed his life."

Huang Shangxi didn't recognize many characters, but he still took the document, put on his reading glasses and looked at each character one by one, repeatedly stroking the three characters "Huang Siyuan" with his hand.

Sunlight fell on his gray hair, making the silver strands shimmer, but he didn't shed a single tear. After reading it, he folded the certificate neatly and put it into his pocket: "My son is a party member now. Good, really good."

Huang's mother brought over two bowls of sweet soup, with brown sugar settling at the bottom, and a sweet aroma spreading throughout.

She pushed a bowl in front of Xu Jianjun: "You said last time that Siyuan kept talking about the pickles I made when he was in the army?"

Xu Jianjun suddenly looked up, his eyes reddening: "Yes, he said the pickled cucumbers Auntie makes are more fragrant than the salted vegetables in the army. Originally, this trip to visit relatives..."

"I've pickled a jar of it; it's in the kitchen."

Huang's mother got up and walked towards the kitchen, her steps more steady than last time. "Take this back with you and eat it with steamed buns."

As she passed the wooden chest in the main room, she reached out and touched the red cloth on the chest lid.

Inside, besides the enamel mug, there was a second-class merit medal, a notebook with a worn-out cover, and half a half-eaten compressed biscuit.

That was something Huang Siyuan had put in his pocket before he set off, saying, "I'll keep it to tide me over if I get hungry."

Sitting in the main room was Huang Siyuan's older sister, Huang Sihui, holding an unfinished blue cloth jacket with a needle still stuck in the fabric; her younger sister, Huang Siyu, was only seven years old, hiding behind her sister, looking timidly at Xu Jianjun with eyes full of expectation.

Huang Sihui picked up the notebook, opened it to the first page, and saw Huang Siyuan's neat handwriting: "I am Huang Siyuan, and I want to be the best soldier, to protect the country and my family."

Her tears fell onto the paper, blurring the ink. "In his last letter, my brother said that after the war, he would take us to the county town to buy new clothes, and that he would help Chengjun find a good job..."

Huang Siyu tugged at her sister's sleeve and whispered, "Sis, is Brother not coming back? What about the comic book he promised to bring me?"

She was too young to understand what "disappeared" meant; she only knew that her older brother hadn't replied to her letters in a long time. Now, seeing everyone crying, she vaguely sensed that something was wrong.

Xu Jianjun felt a sharp pain in his heart as he watched this scene.

He knelt down before Huang's father with a thud, his head bowed as low as it could go: "Uncle, Aunt, it's my fault for not protecting Siyuan. The fog was too thick that day, and we were separated. When I went back to look for him, all I saw was this jar... I searched for half a month, scouring all the nearby ravines, but I couldn't find him..."

This was the third time he had knelt.

Mr. Huang squatted down and reached out to help Xu Jianjun up. His hand was trembling, but he still patted Xu Jianjun's shoulder and said, "Jianjun, get up. It's not your fault, we don't blame you."

“Siyuan told me that being a soldier is about protecting the country. If he doesn’t come back, he told me not to be sad and that he was doing his job for the country, which was worth it.”

"value?"

Huang's mother suddenly looked up. "He was only thirty! He wasn't even married yet, how could it be worth it? Jianjun, tell me, did he feel any pain when he passed away?"

She didn't blame Xu Jianjun; it was just that the pain in her heart was too overwhelming, making her feel suffocated.

Huang Sihui hugged her mother, crying as she herself said, "Mom, my brother is a hero. He didn't live in vain..."

Father Huang sighed and took out a letter from under the kang mat. It was sent by Huang Siyuan before he left, and he was the only one who read it.

He unfolded the letter, his voice choked with emotion, yet every word was clear: "Dad, Mom, this mission might be a little dangerous, but I'm not afraid. I'm a soldier, and protecting our country is my responsibility. If I don't come back, don't be sad. Just think of me as still standing guard, watching over our home and our country."

As he read the letter, Mr. Huang's voice trembled. He handed the letter to Mrs. Huang: "Look, this is what Siyuan said himself. He's been sensible since he was little and knows what he should do. We can't hold him back, and we can't blame Jianjun either. Jianjun was also fighting desperately on the front lines. It's already not easy that he was able to come back alive and bring Siyuan's things back."

Huang's mother took the letter. She couldn't read, but she recognized her son's handwriting, and her tears fell even more fiercely.

She pressed the letter to her chest, as if talking to her son: "Mom knows, Mom knows you're a good boy... Mom just misses you, misses you calling me 'Mom' one more time..."

Xu Chengjun stood to the side, watching the family's grief and resilience, and felt as if something had struck his heart.

He used to think that "sacrifice" was a distant word, but now he knows that sacrifice is the letter that Huang Siyuan didn't finish sending, the enamel mug in Huang's mother's arms, the medal that Huang's father held in his hand, and the wound on his older brother's shoulder that has not yet healed.

Around noon, Xu Jianjun and Xu Chengjun were about to leave.

Huang's father saw them to the door, still clutching the medal in his hand, and suddenly said, "Jianjun, if you ever miss Siyuan, come and visit. I've kept his room for him, just like when he left."

"As for you always saying that Siyuan pushed you away... don't take it to heart."

He filled his pipe with tobacco. “Soldiers have to have this kind of spirit. I know you would do the same if Siyuan were in danger.”

The old man had already cried all his tears.

“Uncle…” Xu Jianjun’s Adam’s apple bobbed, “It was my fault for not protecting him.”

"You can protect your life, but you can't protect your heart."

Huang Shangxi lit a cigarette, and his eyes shone brightly through the swirling smoke. "Siyuan wrote that there was a new recruit in your company who was afraid of the sound of artillery fire, and he always kept him company and talked to him. This kid is kind-hearted. He chose to save you himself, so it's not your fault."

When Huang's mother came out carrying a jar of pickled vegetables, she suddenly teared up upon hearing this: "He's been like this since he was little. He would always share his cornbread with beggars he met on the street. I told him he was silly, and he would say, 'Mother, you have to help people while they're alive.'"

She pushed the jar towards Xu Jianjun, saying, "Take it back. Just pretend my son is still here, bringing you pickles."

Xu Jianjun looked at the jar and bowed deeply to the Huang family: "Uncle, Aunt, after I retire, I will come every month to fetch water and chop firewood for you, just like when Siyuan was still here."

Huang Shangxi helped him up and patted him on the back: "No need. Just focus on recovering and serving your country well. That's the best way to remember Siyuan."

He pointed to the enlistment notice on the wall, "The path he chose, you, as his older brother, will walk it for him."

As he was leaving, Huang Sihui chased after Xu Chengjun and called out, "Chengjun, I saw your work published in the newspaper and know that you are a writer now. Siyuan used to dream of becoming a writer and writing something, but he never had the chance, while you did. Could you write a few words for him for me? Just write, 'Huang Siyuan's sister, Huang Sihui, will see the world for him.'"

Xu Chengjun picked up his pen and wrote, then paused before adding, "Heroes never die, their spirit lives on."

The sunlight cast long shadows of the two men. Xu Jianjun was holding a jar of pickled vegetables, and the wound on his left arm throbbed faintly.

The more silent Huang Siyuan's parents remained, the more they forgave him.

he.
The first time I came was to atone for my sins, and the second time I came was also to atone for my sins.

Under the old locust tree at the village entrance, the Huang family stood at the door watching them, white banners fluttering gently in the wind.

Xu Chengjun glanced back and saw Huang's mother slowly but steadily packing the dried peanuts into a bamboo basket, as if she were fulfilling a promise she made to her son.

The salty aroma of pickled vegetables wafts in the wind; it's the taste of heroes, and also the taste of home.

Why must one's bones be buried in one's hometown? Green hills are everywhere in life.

"Heroes are great, they will live forever."

Young man, never forget the path you came from.

"If you remember me, please take me home."

Xu Chengjun's pen itched, itched so badly it felt like it was burning.
To be continued.

(End of this chapter)