I stood up and staggered forward for a distance, until I couldn't see the disgusting pile, and looked around, but my heart was half cold, and I felt like an ice lump in my stomach. www.biquge.info As far as the eye can see, there are dense and entangled vines, and you can't see the end at a glance.

I touched my body, and except for a mad dog tactical knife, all that was left was the painting and the strange piece of paper that Pan had given me, and the diary I had found from the corpse of the telegraph soldier.

I'd like to look through the journal to see what it contains, and if it doesn't concern us, I'll throw it away without hesitation. So, I took out the diary from my pocket, just opened the first page, the three words "Huang Yulong" just came into view, but the hand involuntarily trembled, this trembling does not matter, the diary slammed, slipped from my hand, I unconsciously stretched out my hand to catch the slippery diary, but the whole body lost its balance, a crooked almost planted down, fortunately both hands hugged the vines, only to stabilize the body, did not fall. The diary fluttered and slowly fell in the process of realization, but it happened to be buckled on a rattan the thickness of a finger, swayed from side to side twice, and finally stopped.

I looked at the diary hanging from the vine in prostration, and realized that I hadn't eaten for a long, long time, and I couldn't even hold the diary steadily.

I glanced around again, except for vines and vines, where could I find something to eat. At this time, I remembered that when I was a child, I used to go up the mountain, peel the bark of pecans, scrape the fleshy skin between the bark and the xylem and eat it, it was sweet and tasted very good. Perhaps, the fleshy skin of the vines in front of me can also be eaten, and if I can eat them, so many vines will definitely not starve me to death.

Thinking of this, I pulled out the mad dog tactical knife and plunged it into the vine, and when I got there, the white slurry seeped out, and a rich fragrance came to my nose.

"Perhaps, this white slurry can be eaten, right?" I thought of it, my hand subconsciously dipped in the slurry, stretched out my tongue and licked it, there was no peculiar smell, no taste at all, just like water, but much thicker than water.

When people are hungry, they may dare to eat anything, even if that thing is poisonous, starvation is a long process, many times, long pain is better than short pain, poisoning may be much better than starvation.

I was not poisoned, because the slurry of the vines was not poisonous, so I had no need to worry about food and water, so many vines, as long as I wanted, I could even live here for the rest of my life.

When I had the spirit, I carefully climbed down, took up the diary hanging on the vine, sat on a branch, and began to look page by page, what I didn't expect was that the things recorded in the diary actually had a great connection with me, and the diary recorded a thing that made me unbelievable:

It was a seemingly ordinary spring in 1942, and a group of Japanese soldiers came up from the train from Shenyang to Beijing. However, this pair of Japanese soldiers is a little strange, all of them are 100-style submachine guns, and there is a Wang Ba box pinned to their waists, and what is even more strange is that they do not have a team leader.

After the team of leaderless and well-equipped Japanese soldiers got on the train, the atmosphere in the train suddenly became a little weird, and soon, many strange people appeared in each carriage.

First of all, there was a dry old man with an erhu humming tune, although he was babbling, but his two black grape-like eyes were always staring at the seven Japanese soldiers sitting together not far away, and the Japanese soldiers were tearing the roast chicken on the table while gurgling.

The old man's eyes flashed with a trace of confusion, these Japanese devils are all drunkards, as long as they see them sitting together and eating meat, wine is inevitable, but these people in front of them, just eating meat, not seeing a big bowl of wine, there must be something strange in it.

He had been waiting in the train for a long, long time, and although he had encountered many Japanese devils, the prey never appeared, and of course the Japanese soldiers quickly attracted his attention.

The old man quietly examined them one by one, and suddenly noticed that one of them, the mustachioed devil's fur coat, had a slight protrusion, and no slight abnormality could escape his eyes. He knew that there was something very important hidden in the seemingly ordinary Japanese devil in front of him, otherwise there would be no need to be so sneaky, and besides, the Eight Achievements were what they were waiting for.

The prey finally couldn't hold it back, and the corner of the old man's mouth inadvertently showed a rare smile. The tone of the erhu in his hand is also like the smile that is revealed, inadvertently becoming sad and sad, the voice is like dripping blood, the tone is desolate, like a battle-hardened old general, looking back at the boundless sea of sand, crying.

A young junior in a top hat and a suit, neat and fit, walked unhurriedly in front of the old man and walked towards the seven Japanese soldiers.