"The time has come to save the world, but you are making trouble at the door of my firm with your mouth open 'price' and 'profit' closed. ”

"It's not that I don't want you to make money, I have already supplied you with the gauze towels collected from your factory at market prices. ”

"Now that military supply is urgent, demand is pushing the price up, and you want to raise the price at this time?"

"For the sake of the 'national hardship and wealth' of these two jujubes, you don't even want a conscience?"

Lu Xiu was talking, and slowly he didn't know whether it was Lu Changqing's words, or if he blurted out the heartfelt words through Lu Changqing's body.

128 has passed, how much time is there until the 77 Lugou Bridge Incident?

The war and chaos that once existed only in textbooks became the reality he faced, and it was vividly vivid.

He clearly knows the direction of history, but there is only a kind of powerless depression left in his heart.

This is China in the thirties of the last century.

He walked out of the sound of silk strings and gongs and drums, and walked out of the emotions of his children.

He stepped out of the theater step by step, the long and tactful babbling gradually faded, the bustling street scene became a light illusion, and the true face of this era began to be gradually revealed.

There is no sentence that can better summarize this period of the Republic of China than Dickens's words in "A Tale of Two Cities", "This is the best of times, this is the worst of times." ”

In this era, China has never been just a ten-mile ocean field of drunkenness, but more of it is filled with bloody rain and gunsmoke, and the strong ships and cannons of the West have broken through the state of isolation, but they cannot break the people's consciousness of isolation and decay.

At that moment, he couldn't tell whether Lu Changqing's words were blurted out by Lu Xiu, or whether Lu Xiu's words were heard through Lu Changqing's body.

He saw that the merchants gathered in front of the Lu family trading house gradually dispersed, and they pulled carts, carrying all the goods, and returned to where they came from.

Uncle Zhou picked up the ledgers thrown on the ground one by one in front of him, and still put them together in a pile.

"Young Master. ”

He opened the car door and bowed to Lu Xiudao.

Lu Xiu stepped into the car wordlessly, looking at the flow of people coming and going outside through the open window.

A newsboy with a rag bag shouted "Nickname Outside" and trotted under his car window: "Sir, do you want a newspaper?"

Lu Xiu gave him some change, opened the newspaper and read it.

Coincidentally, the photo on the first page of the large page is not someone else, it is Lu Changqing.

In the photo, Lu Changqing stopped there in a suit and leather shoes as usual, as if he was attending some ribbon-cutting ceremony.

The accompanying words next to it were full of flattering words, and the bold subheadings jumped into his eyes at once.

"The Confucian merchants of Beiping rushed to the aid of the Anti-Japanese War, and the country was still like this, so what a pity for the wealth in front of them. ”

The foreign car bumped slightly on the road, Lu Xiu unfolded the newspaper and continued to read, only to see a few lines of small print below, to the effect that he would first briefly praise Lu Changqing's youthful and promising glorious resume in the business world, and then praise him for repeatedly donating money and food to support the front line.

The first line of the small print reads-

"Lu Xiu, the word Changqing. ”

？？？

Lu Xiu: I'm jealous of myself?

With a blow to his heart, he ate vinegar for so long in his heart, and actually ate it on his head?

...... That's right, and there's the word thing.

Countless strange and familiar memories poured up, new and old, and it felt very uncomfortable, and the fragments of obscure memories suddenly poured into his mind like countless glass slags, and his vision turned into a continuous white, and then countless scenes flashed in a flash.

In the fog of consciousness, he saw a painting in his scattered old memories.

Intertwined branches, birds fluttering their wings, and a touch of red as the finishing touch.

It is a picture of Ren Bonian's flowers and birds, and the same painting is hanging on the wall of the stairwell of his parents' house.

When Lu Xiu was still in middle school when he first saw this painting, his father Lu Zongru took him to the auction, the yellowed fragile pages were enclosed in a glass display case, and the master of ceremonies wearing a red high-slit cheongsam announced that he could start bidding, but the audience was silent.

In the middle of the night, Lu Xiu lifted the number plate that his father put aside and held it up.

The master of ceremonies' eyes were very sharp, like a big head in a pit, and quickly read out the number he held up: "VIP No. 1011 once." ”

"Silly boy, can't you see that this is a fake?" Lu Zongru said to him in a low voice, "The red plum blossoms on the painting are good, but at first glance, they were added by later generations, how fake it is!"

At that time, Lu Xiu was only a teenager, and he stared at the painting on the stage fixedly, and said stubbornly: "This painting must be real." ”

He couldn't say why, but that's how he felt.

Especially the red plum that everyone regarded as a failure, he always felt that he had seen it somewhere, and it was difficult to look away from it at a glance.

Lu Zongru sighed: "Forget it, a fake is a fake, anyway, there is not much money." ”

"One million yuan once, one million yuan twice," the emcee on the stage repeated twice in a frustrated voice, no one bid with him, and everyone seemed to believe that this was an undoubted fake.

The mallet falls gently.

"Congratulations to the auction item won by VIP No. 1011 at a price of 1 million RMB. ”

In the next second, the auction table under the spotlight was gone, and the guests under the stage were gone, and there was no one left in that space, nothing left, only the picture of flowers and birds remained in place, and the little red on it was dazzling.

He heard Xu Chunqiu gasp, the overturned rouge was stained on the painting, and the pictures of flowers and birds were spread out on the dressing table in the background of the opera garden, and she stood there a little helplessly, raising her eyes to look at him with apprehension.

"What a big deal. ”

He took the fine wolf hair used by Xu Chunqiu to hook his face, dipped the rouge she smeared on the painting, and depicted a budding plum blossom.

"That's not it. ”

He took the pen and leaned over the remaining red between her brows.

It turned out that he had added the flower himself.

It turned out that when Xu Chunqiu was in "Pondering Like Grinding", the reason why he recognized the painting on the wall as a fake at a glance was because of this.

It turned out that there was no Lu Changqing at all, he was really the young master Lu she missed.

Lu Xiu looked at Xu Chunqiu's crimson cheeks in the memory, and a burst of ecstasy swelled in his heart, but then he felt a little distressed.

It turned out that she was alone, carrying the memories of the two of them, and had been gone for so long.

She had spanned decades, and when she opened her eyes, she saw him.

Lu Xiu thought like this, thinking, and his consciousness sank into the drowsy darkness again.