"Xiao Lu, help me get the jar of honey from the refrigerator."
Old Dingtou said to the little vine.
"..."
The little vine was swaying, and Old Ding was frightened when he saw it.
The little buds dig upward.
Old Ding's heart was in his throat: "Be careful, don't fall."
At this moment, Old Dingtou became an old man worrying about the younger generation.
Subconsciously, I was a little more concerned about the little vine that helped me get things for me.
The little vine nodded its branches to show that it understood, then took out the things and hummed them before sending them to Old Dingtou.
A palm-sized glass jar filled with crystal clear honey.
The color is as bright as amber. When you unscrew the lid, a refreshing fragrance comes out, with a hint of nectar.
This scent immediately attracted all the busy Huang Liang Yimeng ants.
You must know that when you reach the position of Lao Dingtou, the food and clothing are the best. Even the tea you drink is only two kilograms of the special Dahongpao every year.
The things he brought must be the best things.
Old Dingtou had been clamoring to stay here in the afternoon, no matter how much his children cried, rolled around and acted coquettishly, it didn't help.
Within half an hour, the guards packed the things and sent them over.
The guard said that several young ladies and young men wanted to come over to see how the old man was doing, but Old Dingtou severely refused.
Look at the old man with a hook.
They had obviously heard that several young masters from the Xu family were here and wanted to come over to see if there were any suitable marriage candidates.
His old Dingtou hasn't reached the point where he wants to calculate his feelings.
Therefore, no one with evil intentions will be found, and all of them will be called back.
Honey is the finest nectar, real good honey, and it tastes sweet and delicious.
Old Dingtou picked out a spoonful with a small spoon and placed it in a corner under the flowerpot where the Huangliang Yimeng ants lived.
"Eat quickly, little guys, I'll treat you to something good."
The sweet and fragrant scent is the favorite of Huangliang Yimeng Ant.
They swayed their little tentacles, looked at this big human with curiosity and gratitude, and decided to give him a good dream tonight.
Old Dingtou, who had no idea about this, lay on the bed and fell asleep after taking a bath.
He felt a little hot at night, and in a daze he was pulled back a little bit of the quilt, just to dissipate the excess heat.
When I slept late into the night, I seemed to feel a little cold again.
That little quilt came back again.
It was a very comfortable night.
The kind of happiness that comes when you have an idea, and it crawls out of your mind as if it has grown legs, and you achieve the same happiness on your own.
In his sleep, Old Dingtou once again returned to his youth.
He stood on a high hill, with a temporary command post behind him.
In front of him were faces that were young and immature, too thin due to long-term lack of nutrition.
Among them were children who were barely waist-high, white-haired old men in their sixties or seventies, and people with mutilated limbs and scars.
They were wearing inappropriate clothes, and in this cold winter month, part of their cracked skin was exposed, blackened by the wind and snow.
But their eyes were so determined and determined.
Because in front of them is an enemy like a cruel invading beast.
And behind them are thousands of lights.
Old Ding looked at them, with sobs in his throat and tears in his eyes: "Brothers, every inch of mountains and rivers, every inch of blood, for our relatives, for our children, for our murdered compatriots, let us rush again!!!"
There were hoarse shouts below, and the blood feud became the flame that ignited their last hope in life.
Burning their enemies along with themselves.
The battle lasted for seven days and nights.
And this time they won.
They succeeded in planting the flag of the motherland on the enemy's high ground.
Those faces showed joyful smiles.
Like the most gorgeous flowers blooming on barren soil.
Old Dingtou in the dream also laughed, and shed tears while smiling.
A swarm of ants slowly crawled down the pillow.
One of the ants quietly looked back, and with its two small wriggling tentacles, it gently touched the tear.
The little ant didn't understand why the tears that symbolized sadness contained happiness.
Old Dingtou got up early the next morning.
Holding a ceramic dental bowl, I squatted at the door and brushed my teeth refreshed.
He especially likes this kind of small yard. There are one or two small steps at the door. He can squat there and relive the feeling of getting up every morning at home, soaking a piece of tree gravel with a little coarse tea salt, and brushing it there. Feel.
"Good morning, Lao Zhou."
There was mouthwash in his mouth, and he was mumbling, so he couldn't hear clearly.
Mr. Zhou, who was watering the flowers in the yard next door, glanced at him and had no intention of talking to him.
Just spit the mouthwash into the flower bed and add nutrients to the flowers and plants.
Old Dingtou put away his toothbrush and wiped his mouth with a towel: "Let's go have breakfast together."
Mr. Zhou put down the kettle for watering the flowers and came out: "How did you sleep last night?"
Old Dingtou's face was rosy and he smiled refreshedly: "Great, how about you? How did you sleep last night?"
Mr. Zhou smiled slightly: "Great."
Two old men, who were more than a hundred years old together, were walking side by side on the trail. Old Dingtou looked at the vibrant tree with new branches in the distance, and suddenly said: "Last night... I dreamed that we were in Dabailing." There’s a battle…”
Mr. Zhou on the side paused and lowered his eyes: "That battle... was so tragic... not many survived..."
Old Dingtou said in a daze: "Yes, if those bastards hadn't knocked me out and hid them under my body..."
He had several cubs under him whose parents died early, and he kept them by his side and raised them as sons-in-law.
The Battle of Dabai Ridge is known as the Flesh Mixer.
Countless people died inside, and the commanders changed three times. He was the last commander, and he did not let the enemy occupy Dabai Ridge until the last man was killed.
But all his comrades-in-arms, relatives and comrades died in that battle.
"I dreamed that we won. We planted the flag on the enemy's high ground, and they stood behind me, looking at me with a smile on their bloody faces."
"I dreamed about it too."
"What did you dream about?"
"I dreamed that I was sitting in the headquarters and received a call from you. You said that you defeated the enemy. We captured the enemy's high ground and we won."
"This is such a sweet dream."
"Yeah, what a sweet dream."
The two old men stepped on the morning dew, holding each other's hands, talking about the sweet dream last night, laughing and adding details from time to time, while walking towards the canteen in the distance.
