After the Japanese invaders came, the people of the Central Plains were in dire straits.
Young people have to ask relatives and friends to become a boxer, and learn the two-handed and three-legged cat kung fu to defend themselves and protect their homes and homes.
The Japanese and puppet troops requisitioned military supplies and grabbed strong laborers to dig blockade ditches and build gun towers.
Many people have not had enough to eat and may starve to death at any time.
Seeing those rich people well fed and clothed, you will naturally be jealous.
Simply distinguishing people from rich people by good or bad, crudely thinking that poor people are good people, and rich people must be bad people. If you are not bad, how can you be rich?
After years of wars between warlords in the Central Plains, there are countless guns hidden among the people.
As a result, many people took desperate risks on dark and windy nights, armed with firearms, killing the rich and helping the poor.
After tasting the benefits, I found that not only would I not go hungry in this business, but I would also make money quickly.
Okay, so why don’t you just grow crops and do business? Just do business without capital?
Everyone knows that only a thousand days of being a thief does not mean a thousand days of guarding against thieves. In order to protect their property and avoid being robbed or kidnapped, the rich fight against these wandering heroes.
I had to buy guns and bullets and raise a group of people to look after the home and the home.
The strong labor force that could have been used to work was put into looking after the homes and nursing homes.
It seriously affects the rural production order and destroys the rural autonomy system.
Someone in a rich family has a gun.
The rangers alone are not capable of taking action against rich families.
If you can't get anything, you will starve, and you will slowly start to huddle together for warmth.
The one with the large number of people occupies the mountain and becomes the king, relying on the large number of people to rob and kidnap people.
I don't want Luocao to call himself a heroic person and continue to make trouble.
Bandits are rampant, and the rich are not allowed to invest more money in housekeeping and nursing homes.
Moreover, the family was not very powerful, so the wealthy people from neighboring villages began to unite to form a militia to fight against the lawless bandits and green forest heroes.
The militia groups in each village began to develop and grow. The militia groups did not have a number, but they had to give themselves a majestic name.
As a result, various guilds and sects gradually became popular.
Zhao Haichen has gone to school, knows kung fu, and is not stupid.
After traveling north for nearly twenty miles, I finally saw the village where I grew up.
Duan Hou's subordinates hurriedly came to report: "I didn't find anyone chasing me."
Not returning home is like wearing brocade clothes and walking at night.
Zhao Haichen looked at the village in the distance. He knew very well that in these troubled times, being in the limelight would lead to death quickly.
Only by keeping a low profile can you live longer, so he did not let his bandits return to the village with him.
I was thinking about taking two of my trusted brothers back to my hometown for a visit.
When he was three miles away from the village, Zhao Haichen issued a stern order: "Rest on the spot, no one is allowed to run around!"
After a busy night, the bandits immediately dispersed as soon as they entered the green gauze tent, with three people in a group and five people lying down on the ground to sleep.
It's quite cool in the morning among the sorghum.
After clearing the security posts and traces of entering the sorghum land, and after everything was arranged, he took two of his confidants and entered the village around the trail.
The Japanese have been rampant in recent years, seizing laborers everywhere and sending them to the mainland of the island country to work as coolies.
Every year they bring puppet troops to loot it.
As a result, the village, which obviously has a large area of land, is not prosperous.
Had it not been for the arrival of a large number of refugees last year, the village would have been empty.
Many of the villagers who escaped did not know Zhao Haichen at all, let alone his true identity. They were not afraid at all when they saw the kind-faced young master of the Zhao family appearing in the village.
A white-haired, thin and lonely aunt was leaning against the door of the dilapidated low courtyard. Looking at her body, it was estimated that a gust of wind could blow her down.
He was tremblingly greeting Zhao Haichen: "Master Haichen is back?"
"Hello Aunt Qi, take these two pieces of Guangyang..." Zhao Haichen was generous and directly passed out two pieces of Yuan Datou.
Although the Zhao family was in decline, its ancestors had a family that was able to raise people, and even a skinny camel was bigger than a horse.
Aunt Seven's eyes shone, her hands and legs didn't tremble, she quickly reached out to take it: "I know what the young master is capable of."
Zhao Haichen quickly came to the outside of a large courtyard with high walls that had been burned by fire, kicked open the temporary fence door and broke into the courtyard.
Then he quickly turned into the backyard, hurriedly rushed into the dark side room, and shouted loudly: "Chunhua, come out quickly, the master is back."
No one was in the house.
Hearing Zhao Haichen's call, a plump woman poked her head out of the firewood shed: "You are a murderer, you haven't come home after being out for so long."
Zhao Haichen trotted forward, hugged the woman and got into the firewood house, and threw a gold bar on the stove of the firewood house.
Then he hugged the woman and sat down against the pile of firewood: "Hey, I went out and made a little fortune this time!"
The woman leaned over and picked up the gold bar on the stove, quickly put it in her mouth and took it out to look at it. The teeth marks from her teeth were clearly visible: "It's true!"
After saying that, the woman turned around and sat directly on Zhao Haichen's lap, her plump chest rising and falling rapidly: "Master, I heard that the Eighth Route Army captured Qinghe County. Are you ready to join in the fun when you come back now?"
Zhao Haichen was busy pulling on his wife's pants: "Hey, the Tuba Road captured Qinghe County and couldn't hold it at all. This time, our eldest brother just took Qinghe County into his pocket."
"I heard that the second son next door has found a good job in Guantao County. You have been following Brother Wang for so many years, why are you still doing those sneaky and shady things for him?"
"You know what a woman, the first rafter will die first. These days, if you work for the little devil, sooner or later you will be shot."
"Tch, who in this world can sit down or not? I think before the Manchu Qing Dynasty came to the Central Plains, we were not the same. Oops, we went to the wrong place."
No matter how bad a person is, he still has parents.
I have never heard of anyone popping out of the cracks in the rocks like Monkey Sun.
East of the village.
Zhao family ancestral hall.
On the dark mourning hall is a long row of black and white wooden tablets.
The spiritual cards are very new.
Zhao Laoxiucai, who is in his sixties, is sitting in the ancestral hall.
With trembling hands, there was a shiny shell gun with a wide-open nose on the low table next to him.
The gun was pointed at the courtyard gate.
Outside the open door of the courtyard, Zhao Haichen clung to the outer wall of the door, looking at the two wide open doors in the early morning sun with some fear: "Uncle, don't be stubborn, your way of governing the world won't work."
"I asked you to study more, but you damned followed the man surnamed Wang to surrender to the Japanese and sell your ancestors for glory. As a result, the ancestral hall was burned down by the little devils. Unless I die today, you can't even think of entering the ancestral hall."
"Do you think I really want to enter this shabby ancestral hall? If my surname wasn't Zhao, I wouldn't even come to this ancestral hall even if I were killed."
"My poor second brother, why don't you strangle this little boy to death as soon as you are born?"
"You bitch, what qualifications do you have to talk about my father?"
"You dare to call me a dog? You bastard." The scholar reached for the gun, raised it, and seemingly casually pulled the trigger.
boom.
A bullet came out of the chamber and accurately hit the beam of the courtyard door.
Only then did Zhao Laoxiucai yell: "Get out of here!"
Zhao Haichen let out a long sigh, took out a cloth bag from his pocket and threw it diagonally into the ancestral hall: "These are some houses and some land deeds I bought in the city. I put them outside the door. As promised, these gold bars are not for you. Yes, it is used to build houses for the brothers and sisters of our old Zhao family."
Zhao Xiucai in the ancestral hall did not change his attitude because of Zhao Haichen's words: "A house with blood and a gold bar with souls on it, aren't you afraid that a ghost will come to take your life in the middle of the night?"
"Don't talk about what's available and what's not. Just remember, don't drink water from the river in the near future."
"Whether I drink or not is none of your business." After the old scholar finished speaking, he raised his gun and fired another shot at the door.
boom.
Wood chips flew across and a puff of smoke erupted, and the bullet accurately hit the beam of the courtyard door again.
A middle-aged man in a long gown hurriedly came to the gate of the courtyard, greeted Zhao Haichen who was standing outside, and then shouted into the ancestral hall: "Uncle Zhao. Something happened to Zhao Laoqi's family in the south of the village."
"What happened?"
"It was three o'clock that day, but I didn't see his family going out, and there was no smoke coming from the chimney. I asked Shui Sheng to climb over the wall and go in, and found that the whole family was dead."
"Take me to have a look!" The old scholar walked quickly and went straight out with his gun, then locked the door.
Ignoring Zhao Haichen who was carefully shrinking his neck.
Only unworthy descendants would climb over the wall and pick the lock to enter the ancestral temple.
Zhao Haichen, who wanted to enter the ancestral temple, had no choice but to follow his uncle, the old scholar, to the south of the village.
Along the way, the old scholar Zhao was nervous. Bodhisattva bless him, but he must not be a tiger.
Between the sorghum.
Li Laosan held a jet-black bayonet in his hand, and the bayonet blade had a cold light in the early morning sun.
Slowly approaching the two bandit soldiers who were sleeping soundly in the sorghum field at the guard post.
The two sentry posts on the verge of death had the same posture.
He held the newly replaced shell gun in his chest, rising and falling with his breathing.
Perhaps because the aura of death on Li Laosan was too strong, a bandit soldier who was snoring suddenly opened his eyes.
Before he could scream, the black bayonet had pierced his throat horizontally.
A line of blood spurted out from the gap between the bayonet on the neck.
The guard post struggled violently before dying, and the noise he made woke up his exhausted companions next to him.
But this one was so sleepy that he didn't even open his eyes and cursed: "I said, can you be quiet for a while?"
