At two o'clock in the morning, Zhou Zhihan exited the system. The four-hour flight gave him a basic understanding of the performance of the Zero fighter. If he flew again tonight, he would be able to fully master the attack and defense of this fighter from the inside out.
The hovering ability of this fighter is absolutely superb. It can easily cut into the inner circle of any current fighter during a dogfight at any altitude below six thousand meters.
Of course, not every pilot can do this. The person driving the plane is more important.
Unfortunately, in [Air Overlord], there are no system pilots who can challenge him.
At dawn in the morning, Zhou Zhihan got up, washed himself, went out for a run, and embraced nature. Ever since he went to England, he rarely found time to run in the morning.
After his body was sweating slightly, Zhou Zhihan performed a set of military boxing. He felt that his strength, speed, explosive power and judgment ability in fast fighting had made great progress, especially his eyesight and hearing. It has reached a super first-class level.
After returning to his residence, he took a shower and put on clean clothes. Zhou Zhihan went to find Karen, a little worried that she would be acclimatized, and she was still pregnant.
Thinking of Karen, Zhou Zhihan felt warm and a little apologetic in his heart. This girl came all the way to China with him and gave up everything in the UK. Just because of this, he decided to make a decision in this life. Can't owe her anything.
In order to give Karen a good environment to rest in, Zhou Zhirou specially rented a large house for Karen to live in a small town outside the airport, and specially assigned four female soldiers to take turns taking charge of security 24 hours a day.
Zhou Zhirou knew that with Karen's relationship, the scope of cooperation between China and Britain would be broader in the future.
Riding a bicycle through a small town, Zhou Zhihan wanted to find a tofu noodle shop to satisfy his craving for food. However, Guilin people at this time didn’t seem to like tofu noodle. After going two streets, they all had Guilin’s local breakfast. Tofu brain.
Zhou Zhihan was a little disappointed. He stood at the intersection with his arms crossed and was about to buy some steamed buns to go home. His sharp eyes suddenly spotted a small restaurant built with plastic paper and thatch in front. There were three words written on the big wooden sign at the door - Tofu Nao. !
"Thank God!"
Zhou Zhihan almost jumped up. It felt a bit like meeting an old friend in a foreign country.
Riding a bicycle, I quickly arrived at a simple breakfast shop, and I was immediately excited. At the door of the shop, a young woman was frying fried dough sticks, while holding a flat spoon to serve tofu to a customer, sprinkled with a few light yellow dried shrimps, and... A handful of green chives, two spoons of vinegar and soy sauce, Zhou Zhihan's mouth watered just looking at it.
In the corner of the small restaurant, there is a large, round, half-person-high brick stove. There are more than a dozen large cakes placed beside the stove mouth. They are roasted to a crispy brown and fragrant. A man under thirty years old is standing by the stove. It must be the owner of the small shop. He is using big tongs to take out several large cakes from the oven. He skillfully bakes them one by one several times and then arranges them neatly by the oven mouth. Behind him is a small bed. A three or four-year-old man little boy was sleeping soundly.
Zhou Zhihan parked his car and walked into the store. When the young woman saw him, she asked him to sit down and ask him to eat.
Zhou Zhihan sat down at a small table and said, "Mrs. Boss, please have a bowl of tofu, two fried dough sticks, and a piece of flatbread."
As soon as he finished speaking, he immediately caught the attention of the shop owner. He looked at Zhou Zhihan for a few seconds and said, "Are you...from Nanjing?"
Zhou Zhihan was also stunned when he heard the other party's Nanjing accent: "So he's a fellow from Nanjing! I didn't expect to meet a fellow from Nanjing here."
Hearing this, the owner of the breakfast shop showed an honest smile on his face: "I really didn't expect that I would meet my hometown fellow from Nanjing here." He came out, took the lid and covered the stove, picked up two of the best-looking and most browned pancakes and gave them to Zhou Zhihan: "Fellow, are you passing by or do you live nearby?"
Zhou Zhihan stood up and took the pie: "I was passing by here. I searched a few times and couldn't find the one selling tofu bread. I was about to leave when I saw your shop. What a fate!"
"Oh! I'm passing by!" I heard that Zhou Zhihan was passing by. The shop owner's expression was very complicated, showing joy and hesitation. "I haven't heard anyone speak Nanjing dialect for a long time. When you opened your mouth just now, I suddenly felt a burning sensation in my heart. Still warm."
As he spoke, he personally served a bowl of tofu puffs for Zhou Zhihan and added more seasonings. "We northerners have a strong taste for food. The tofu puffs I prepared for you are guaranteed to be the taste of my hometown."
The shop owner also filled a bowl himself, took a few fried dough sticks, and sat next to Zhou Zhihan: "Fellow, try it, taste my craftsmanship, does it still have the taste of hometown?"
Zhou Zhihan took a spoonful of the soup spoon and put it into his mouth. The vinegar sauce, dried shrimps, chopped green onions and white tender tofu were entangled together. He almost swallowed his tongue. He took a few bites of the fragrant and crispy fried dough sticks and left a fragrant mouthful. Then tear the remaining half into small pieces and soak it in tofu pudding. It will instantly become bright and appetizing.
The owner of the breakfast shop gave a thumbs up to his customers and said: "Dear neighbors, take a look, this is how we eat in Nanjing! Authentic."
These people were all neighbors and knew him very well. They were all happy for him when they saw him meeting a fellow villager.
At this time, human nature was simple and they took meeting fellow villagers in a foreign land very seriously.
The little woman saw that her husband was enjoying a rare meeting with a fellow villager, and she felt happy too, so she stopped the fire in the oil pan and went to knead the dough to make a flatbread.
After breakfast, the two chatted for a while, and the shop owner asked: "fellow, are you coming from Nanjing or somewhere else." He said that the circles under his eyes suddenly turned red, "I want to know ...I know how Nan... Nan Jing is doing now..."
Zhou Zhihan immediately understood what he meant and hesitated a little: "Nanjing is still in the hands of the Japanese."
Hearing this, the shop owner didn't say anything. He silently took out a small half pack of wrinkled cigarettes, handed one to Zhou Zhihan, struck a match, and lit it together.
"I'm illiterate, but I often ask people who read newspapers, and they tell me that Nanjing is still in the hands of the Japanese." The shop owner's eyes were red, and he rubbed them, pretending to be smoked, "I just want to confirm it. .”
Zhou Zhihan asked cautiously: "Nan Jing, do you have any relatives?"
"No, not one of them is gone." The shop owner said, rubbing his eyes again, and finally tears fell, "There are sixteen people in our family, old and young, and I am the only one who survived as a loader in other places... …”
Zhou Zhihan did not speak and listened quietly. He knew how miserable the city was at that time. At that time, the Chinese Air Force was almost wiped out. The entire Nanjing city was bombed by Japanese fighter planes. After the plane flew away, the Japanese troops in the Yangtze River The warships continued to attack with cannons.
At that time, all the people in the country blamed the army for not holding on. In fact, not to mention Tang Moumou, even any general or army in the world would not be able to hold on to that absolutely deadly place.
Several other neighbors also looked sad, although they had long known that the owner of the small shop had suffered a miserable life.
"Three years later, Nanjing is still in the hands of the Japanese."
The shop owner held his head in his hands and his voice began to choke, "I often dream about them at night, and I want to go back to find them every Qingming Festival, but...but I know that I will never find them again..."
People sat quietly without speaking.
