I rely on talking to brush the copy

Lightning flashed through the rolling dark clouds, the rumbling thunder was getting closer and closer, and the autumn wind passed through the bleak crossroads, adding a bit of desolation to the scene.

Li Shuran stood in front holding the tablet, and in front of her were rows of policemen, who formed a solid and tight blockade chain, blocking the way of the funeral procession.

The funeral music of gongs and drums also stopped, and the musicians put down their instruments at a loss, with a faint commotion.

Li Shuran tightened the tablet in her hand, as if to ask word by word: "What crime did my brother commit?"

The fat police officer laughed casually: "Isn't it a crime for him to write anti-corruption books? We didn't arrest him, which is already a leniency. How can a criminal deserve such a grand funeral now?"

She stared expressionlessly at the fat police officer who was leading the arrogant reading of her brother's "crimes", and felt only a huge sense of absurdity and anger.

"Lie! You lie!" The girl's shrill voice sounded: "My brother is the most decent person in the world! The books he wrote are all good books! They are not anti-books! You are bad guys! Liars! Demons!"

The other people who came to send Lu Jingran were also trembling with anger, and they all shouted angrily at the fat police officer.

Zheng Yiliang, who was so hot-tempered, directly pushed the fat police officer, "Bullshit! Can you speak human language?!"

The fat police officer's face changed, and his mung bean-like eyes showed a ferocious look. He kicked Zheng Yiliang to the ground with one foot: "** stinky idiot, you are shameless, right?" He pulled out a pistol from his waist and pointed it arrogantly at Zheng Yiliang, "Return to me, understand? Otherwise, I will shoot!"

His action was like a signal, and dozens of policemen behind him raised their long guns and pointed them at the funeral procession. As they raised their guns, the people who had been watching the excitement scattered like birds, and the streets immediately became empty.

For a moment, the air was so quiet that you could almost hear the sound of some people's teeth chattering. The previous stalemate was broken by a dull thump. Several coffin bearers dropped the coffins in panic, raised their hands and said loudly: "Sir, sir, don't shoot! We are just doing things for money!"

"You!" Li Shuran's face turned pale, then turned red, staring at those people with eyes like fire: "You! How dare you!"

The fat police officer smiled smugly and raised his chin, "Why don't you leave quickly?"

In Li Shuran's fiery sight, those people ran away in a hurry.

Zheng Yiliang jumped up and poked himself with the gun barrel: "Come on! If you dare, come up to me. If I blink, I will take your surname!"

Zhou Dezhang also glared at him and spat: "If you have the guts, kill all of us here!"

The fat police officer sneered, "Do you think I don't dare?"

Just when the two sides were arrogant, a white mourning team suddenly came slowly towards them from the front. This team was particularly eye-catching on the empty street, so it immediately attracted the attention of everyone present.

The fat police officer spitted and said unkindly: "Damn it, who is blind and wants to come to the funeral at this time!"

When the team approached, they saw the specialness of this team-it was full of women, all beautiful and enchanting women, but wearing white mourning clothes and crying loudly like a bereaved woman.

The fat police officer pointed his gun at them arrogantly: "Stop! What are you doing?"

The leading woman stopped crying and answered calmly: "We are more than 3,000 prostitutes from the Eight Great Hutongs. We heard that the master will be buried today, so we came here to see him off."

The fat police officer choked, obviously not expecting to hear this answer.

The leading woman bowed: "The master is the only person in the world who understands us and cares about us. Now that he is gone, we must send him off. I hope the officer will give you a favor." Thousands of prostitutes behind her saluted one after another and said in unison: "I hope the officer will give you a favor!"

The fat police officer was dumbfounded and speechless.

What surprised the fat police officer was still behind.

Another team appeared at another intersection of the intersection. This time, the team was made up of children who could not be seen at a glance.

The leader was a young man in mourning clothes. His face was calm and his eyes were filled with grief. He said to the fully armed police team in a deep voice: "Fu Kemao, the director of the Wheat Field Orphanage, led 458 orphans from the Wheat Field Orphanage and 852 street children from Beiping to see off Mr. Night Watchman. Why don't you get out of here?!" Behind him were children crying loudly.

As if they had made an appointment, a huge team came from the intersection on their right. From a distance, they could see dust flying and crying loudly.

The leader was a middle-aged man. He said: "Wei Chenxi, the head of Xiahe Township, brought all the villagers of Xiahe Township to see off Mr. Lin Zhongqi. Please give us some convenience."

Then, another team came from Fu Kemao's side.

The old man in the lead said with full energy: "I am Yang Jusi, leading more than 200 Peking University teachers and students to see off the martyrs."

"I am Qian Huangguang, the president of the Student Union of Kaiming Middle School, and I am leading all the students of our school to see off the outstanding alumnus Li Jingran."

……

Perhaps their courage was ignited by the arrival of so many people, or perhaps the light of justice has never been extinguished in people's hearts. More and more people joined the funeral procession, and more and more people reported their homes to the police who blocked the road. In the end, it seemed that everyone from Peiping rushed over to pay Li Jingran's funeral.

Among them are businessmen, scholars, students, farmers, street children, prostitutes, journalists and other people from all walks of life.

They came here just to see off a 17-year-old boy.

Many of them had never seen Li Jingran at all, but they came anyway.

Life is a matter of spirit, who can comment on fame?

The gun fell from the fat police officer's hand.

He stood there at a loss, his fat body looking particularly small in the sea of ​​people in all directions.

"Are you desperate for your life?!" he asked in a high-pitched voice.

Someone laughed loudly and said: "If flies and dogs live in the same camp, how happy is life? If we die for justice, how miserable is death?"

Zhou Dezhang laughed proudly: "Come on! Come and kill us! No matter how many people you kill, justice cannot be killed!"

The fat policeman's face was expressionless, and his two legs were fighting. He didn't understand the bravery of these people, just like he didn't understand why so many people stood up to see off a sinner without fear of death.

In the end, he could only lead his men to evacuate this place in embarrassment. Before leaving, he said weakly and cruelly: "You guys wait for me!"

"Okay!" Someone laughed: "We are waiting for you here!"

"Get out of here! Go to your master's place to get reinforcements!"

"No matter how many spears and cannons you bring, you can't shake us!"

Under the overwhelming roar of the people, the police finally retreated in confusion.

This legendary funeral will be talked about by Peiping people for decades.

Prostitutes, street children, teachers, students and farmers lifted the coffin of the 17-year-old boy who was covered in blood and died heroically, and walked step by step out of the city.

Wherever the coffin went, there was only crying.

The downpour was coming, and it seemed that God was also crying to see the boy off.

…

…

The old wives' tale is over.

Mu Liang's whole mind was still immersed in the story she just told. For a moment, he seemed to have traveled through more than eighty years, parting through the sea of ​​clouds of time, and witnessed with his own eyes the grand event that took place decades ago.

Under the heavy rain, the black coffin slowly walked through the crowded streets. Wherever the coffin went, the crowd parted in tacit agreement like Moses parting the sea.

Under the affectionate gaze of countless pairs of eyes, the black coffin slowly walked into the distance, followed by a sea of ​​people.

Prostitutes from all eight alleys in Peiping came to see them off in white mourning clothes. Hundreds of street children were crying loudly, and the illiterate farmers were also secretly wiping away their tears...

As the coffin walked farther and farther, more and more people followed behind it, and finally it seemed that the entire city of Peiping came out to see the young man off.

Mu Liang knew the boy's name - Li Jingran, and he preferred to call him the night watchman.

The most dazzling one among the stars of the Republic of China.

Mu Liang first learned about this funeral in his Chinese language textbook for the first year of high school. It was a prose of more than 2,000 words. It was a memory compiled and recorded by the famous scholar Mr. Zhou Dezhang in his later years. The title of the text is also very meaningful, called "Burial in a Fallen City".

Mu Liang remembered clearly that it was the last Chinese text in the first year of high school.

When I was studying this text, the Chinese teacher's face was very heavy and the classroom was very quiet. I could only hear the teacher's clear reading sound in the quiet classroom.

"This was the last time I saw my friend, and also the last time in Pingcheng, Quanbei. Since then, he has been buried in the ground covered in blood, and my 17-year-old friend has stayed forever in the autumn of the 15th year of the Republic of China.

I don’t know what he was thinking when he threw himself into the raging gunfire. I only know that in the face of that fucked-up world, he chose to stand up and resist like a warrior.

The night will be long and the stars will shine. None of them are him, none of them are as good as him. "

This is the last paragraph of "Burial in a Fallen City", and Mu Liang's heart aches every time he thinks about it.

He had imagined the grand scene of that funeral in his mind more than once, wishing he had been born decades earlier to attend Mr. Li's funeral and give him a ride.

This was also the first time he heard the full story of the funeral from someone who had witnessed it.

He already knew who the old lady was.

She is Mr. Li Jingran’s sister, Mr. Li Shuran.

There are very few records about Li Shuran in history books. Many materials mention her briefly and treat her in an extremely low-key manner. It is only said that after she returned from studying in the United States, she resolutely returned to build her homeland after the founding of the People's Republic of China. Then the next news about Li Shuran could no longer be found online.

Therefore, many people mistakenly think that Li Shuran is just an ordinary woman with nothing worth saying.

But as Mr. Li Jingran's sister, how could Mr. Li Shuran be an ordinary woman?

After all, Mu Liang is a **, and in recent years many files have been lifted and Mr. Li Shuran's classification has been lowered, so he knows some things that others don't know.

He knew that Mr. Li Shuran, as a nuclear physics expert, had remained anonymous for thirty years and conducted secret research in the Northwest.

Her face is top secret, her deeds are top secret, and her life is also top secret.

That's why Mu Liang had never seen her face in news reports.

That's why the old lady can gain the respect of so many politicians.

Like his brother Mr. Li Jingran, Mr. Li Shuran is also a well-deserved pillar of the country, and can only be described as a national hero.

He looked at the white-haired, old and frail old man in front of him with admiration, bowed deeply to her with red eyes, and said in a deep voice: "Sir, thank you."

Li Shuran calmly accepted his bow and smiled: "Thank you for what?"

Thank you for contributing your life to China.

Finally, Mu Liang said gratefully: "Thank you for telling me this story."

Li Shuran chuckled: "I hope you don't mind me, an old woman, being long-winded."

Looking at the old man's back as he turned around and left slowly, Mu Liang was both proud and sad.

Proud that China has such an unparalleled national hero, sad that the national hero has been in hiding for his twilight years.

...

Mu Liang met Mr. Li Shuran again at the award ceremony of the National Highest Science and Technology Award broadcast on television.

The white-haired old lady took the big red certificate from the award presenter and showed a calm smile to the camera that had experienced many things. The host at the side listed the old lady's achievements one by one in an excited voice.

Mu Liang's eyes were red and he burst into tears.

In the end, the country will remember, and the people will remember too.

In her acceptance speech, the old lady said with a somewhat melancholy expression: "My brother is called Li Jingran, he is a great and brave man. He is the signpost of my life and also my guide. All my achievements in this life are just inheriting my brother's legacy.

In the last Spring Festival before his death, he talked about his dream - to be a free man. I don't know if death is freedom for him, but I will always remember what he told me at that time: 'Shuran, you have to live well.' Living is easy? But what can be called "well"?

My brother gave his life for Marxism, and as his sister, I have dedicated my entire life to building socialism.

I think I have lived well for more than 90 years of my life. If there is really a world after death, I can tell my brother calmly: My life has not been wasted, I have always lived well, because I have dedicated my entire life to the most magnificent cause in the world - fighting for the liberation of mankind all my life."

Amid thunderous applause, the old lady staggered and slowly walked off the stage.

It was like a grand curtain call ceremony.

Later, Mu Liang met Mr. Li Shuran again, but it was at a funeral.

It was just Mr. Li Shuran's funeral.

On October 1, 2008, when the whole country was celebrating the National Day, Mr. Li Shuran, a famous nuclear physicist and winner of the National Highest Science and Technology Award, passed away at the age of 96.

This prosperous era was what she and he wished for.