As an intern reporter in a small county, I really don't have any big ambitions, and it may be more suitable for me to eat and wait for death every day, even though I am only in my early twenties.

But, no one can say for sure, just such a big man in the news industry who I can become in the future, I am Zhong Bai, are you willing to enter my story?

On that day, the sun was shining, and as an intern reporter, I was also rubbed by my predecessors as before, so as usual, the farthest and most difficult public news in the place was always handed over to me, and I said: This is all about trusting you, so I will give you the best job. So what can I say, I can only rush to the interview in a gloomy manner, and go home and lie in the bed.

What I didn't expect was that such a small interview would change my life.

My heart shattered as I walked through the bazaar, across the road, over the green hills, and through the mud until I finally reached my destination, the little hut that felt like it would collapse when the wind blew. I walked for nine hours, and the result of walking into the countryside to kill Matt was such a small thatched hut? What news can there be, is the chicken lost or the pig dead? Just let me go over the mountains for this? The more I thought about it, the more angry I became, so I went to find the hero of the news in a rage, searched around, and found that there was no one near the small thatched hut except for a little old man, and this little old man was still lying comfortably on the small chaise longue outside the house, his eyes narrowed slightly, and he was indifferent to the sudden me. Thinking about it, he became even more angry, stepped forward and squatted next to the recliner, and said with a smile: "Grandpa, is it your interview letter, is there something big going on here?" "Oh, I can't help it, I'm just cowardly.

It was only then that the little old man raised his eyes and glanced at me, and that was at this moment he tried to widen his eyes, contrary to his laziness just now. "Sit down," he picked up the small wooden chair on the side of the recliner and handed it to me, resuming his laziness just now, and slowly spit out, "My time should be numbered, so I want to find someone who can listen to my story, and the story I want to tell is very long, can you promise me to finish this story?" "It's a lot of effort for him to say, but we young people who are energetic can't just waste a lot of work time just because of one of your Rausch stories. So I said firmly, "Okay, grandpa, our leader just asked me to interview you, so you can say as long as you want." "Alas, I can't help but be too loving, I really don't take the opportunity to take a vacation.

He looked at me deeply, and even for a moment I felt as if he was looking through me, and I was so beautiful. Reminds him of his first love? Uh, cough cough off topic.

"My name is Ichiro Kawatani, and I am a Japanese who came to China during World War II." The old man squinted at the sky, as if he had fallen into a deep memory. "You're Japanese?" I looked at him in amazement, why did this old Japanese man stay in China when he was so old? Mole? No, what are you doing living in the mountains, what is he doing when he leaves me down, hasn't he killed enough people in China in World War II? Isn't that dangerous for me right now?

And just as I was frantically adding drama in my heart, the old man looked at me and rolled up his trouser legs as if he saw my thoughts, and I realized that his legs were gone. "Can you listen to my story now?" He looked at me with a look of affection in his eyes.

So, now our story officially begins.