Chapter 61 War Drums

"Boss, can you lend me your drum?"

The middle-aged man in the long gown changed his expression several times, and finally made up his mind, squeezed out of the crowd and walked into a theater, took off his long gown that was already covered with mud, and gently placed it in front of the theater owner.

"My name is Yue Changqing. I have nothing else to escape here. Only this long gown can be used as collateral!"

"What do you want the drum for, sir?" The boss was dumbfounded and asked back after a long while.

Although the middle-aged man seemed to be down and out, his conversation and the firmness in his eyes made people dare not underestimate him.

"Nothing else, just beating the drum to cheer for my Chinese army." The middle-aged man looked back outside.

The rumbling sound of the cannon has resounded through the sky.

"Sir, if you anger the Japanese pirates..." The boss took a breath.

Although the Japanese have not done anything to the concessions now, since the war started in August, the Japanese army has been known for its brutality of bombing Songhu Railway Station with planes regardless of the civilians gathering. It is not impossible for them to shoot Chinese civilians like middle-aged people with precision shooters in anger.

"It doesn't matter. The Chinese army can die, and my Chinese people can die too! Otherwise, what's the point of me, Yue Changqing, reading so many sage books?" The middle-aged man looked indifferent.

"If my clothes can't pay off the damage to the drum, my son will come to pay it off on his behalf when he grows up."

"Good! Heroic! Who said that all unfaithful people are scholars? I think Mr. Yue's words and actions are quite like my style of the rivers and lakes!" A middle-aged man with a clear face and a black robe and a black hat came out of the teahouse in the inner room and praised loudly.

He turned his head and looked at the boss who had not yet reacted, "Boss Chen, give Mr. Yue the best and largest drum in your garden. If it is damaged, it will be blamed on me, Du."

"How dare I, how dare I, how dare I trouble Mr. Du to guarantee it. Mr. Yue is also cheering for our army. He can risk his life, so how can I, Chen, be stingy with a drum?" When the boss saw this man appear, he didn't say anything and directly ordered people to go to the warehouse to carry the drum.

The middle-aged man glanced at the two bodyguards with high bulges on their waists in black clothes and black pants following closely behind the black-robed man. He knew that this must be a very good underworld figure in the concession. He immediately bowed to the black-robed man as a thank you, but didn't say much.

Just then, four big men carried a big drum as big as an eight-immortal table from the warehouse. The middle-aged man took this opportunity to bow and say goodbye to the black-robed man, without taking his robe, and went out in his underwear with several patches.

The two bodyguards were furious and were about to speak, but the man in black smiled and waved his hand, saying, "You have never been to school and don't understand scholars. He just doesn't want to be too involved with people like me."

"But Mr. Yue obviously forgot that people in the underworld are also Chinese underworld people!" The man in black walked to the window facing the street and looked at the other side of the river hundreds of meters away. There was a firework in his eyes, as if his eyes were burned and narrowed slightly.

"Go, tell the girls in the big world, and tell them that it was me, Lao Du, who said it..."

"Dong Dong Dong!" The sound of drums outside the window has already sounded.

A big drum that requires four strong men to lift is placed on an empty street less than ten meters away from the bank of Suzhou River.

A man wearing only coarse cloth underwear, holding a drumstick in each hand, beat the big drum with all his strength.

"Dong! Dong! Dong!" The drum beats are simple but extremely powerful.

The deafening sound of gunfire from two hundred meters away seemed to be covered by the dull drum sound at that moment.

The middle-aged man beat the drum vigorously while chanting in a low voice:

Who says I have no clothes? I share my robes with you.

I sharpen my spears and halberds. I share my hatred with you!

......

"What is he singing?" Most of the Chinese people present could not understand.

"He is singing Qin Feng. No Clothes!" A young student burst into tears at that moment.

Gradually, whether they understood or not, whether they were young or old, whether they were poor or rich, hundreds of people stood behind the middle-aged man who was beating the drum vigorously.

Less than a hundred meters away from them was the black muzzle of the Japanese right-wing infantry pointing towards this side.

However, more Chinese gathered together, stood behind a drum that was being beaten, and chanted with the middle-aged man:

Who says I have no clothes? I share my clothes with you.

I sharpen my armor and weapons. I walk with you!

......

The roars of hundreds or even thousands of people were like a tsunami, as if turning this street that should have been peaceful into another battlefield.

"Yes, this is their battlefield! Facing the bullets that the Japanese invaders might shoot at any time, the people who lost their homes did not retreat in embarrassment with the elderly and children. This time, they chose to stand in front of the war drums.

Because their soldiers are fighting! Their brothers are bleeding!

Perhaps, this is the reason!"

Tan Tai Mingyue wrote in her war diary on the afternoon of the 27th.

After writing this text, the war correspondent threw away the paper and pen, picked up the camera, forgot her identity as a reporter, and joined the crowd singing loudly.

For this female reporter, perhaps at this time she wanted to be a part of those brave ordinary Chinese people, not just a bystander and recorder.

Because, I share the same hatred with you! I walk with you!

Fight with the men on the other side who started bleeding.

But she didn't expect that a drum and a song were just the beginning of today.

In the trenches of Sihang Warehouse.

Tang Dao and his two infantry squads hid in the trenches without showing their heads. Including Tang Dao, all of them were equipped with MP submachine guns, and more than 20 submachine guns were gathered, obviously intending to attack the approaching Japanese infantry in one go.

However, the Japanese tanks were moving very slowly because they had to fire at the fire points in the warehouse, so Tang Dao and others had to wait patiently until the Japanese approached within about 150 meters.

"Sir, there are drums and singing over the river!" Liu Datou crawled over to report to Tang Dao and smoked a cigarette. "I just didn't understand what they were singing! Is it because they used Jiangnan dialect?"

"That's Qin Feng Wu Yi!" Tang Dao explained to several soldiers who were also puzzled.

Looking at their confused faces, Tang Dao knew that explaining what "Qi Yu Wu Yi" meant to these guys who might not even be able to write their own names was undoubtedly like playing the lute to a cow.

"Let's do this! There must be educated people on the other side. The ancient lyrics they sing are incomprehensible to us soldiers. Let's sing a song that we can understand." Tang Dao said, turning around and taking a peek. The Japanese tanks were still about 300 meters away. It was too early to advance to the range they needed.

A minute later, more than 20 men started to shout with Tang Dao.

However, although the 20 men had tried their best, the singing was still covered by the rumbling sound of the Japanese artillery.

Except for the people in the warehouse.

From the perspective of the lieutenant colonel of the army, he watched his soldiers lying in the wet trenches covered in mud, with countless bullet holes and gravel flying over their heads.

But even if they were lying in the trenches, their faces and bodies were covered in mud, their eyes were full of light, and they sang loudly.

At that moment, although he couldn't hear clearly what they were singing, the lieutenant colonel of the army felt very clearly that none of these soldiers were afraid of the life-and-death battle in a few minutes, even if the Japanese had seemingly invincible tanks.

"Go and listen to what they are singing?" the lieutenant colonel ordered the signalman beside him.

Three minutes later, the lieutenant colonel heard the singing of the soldiers on the first line on the first floor.

He slapped the wall hard, which scared Lei Xiong beside him.

The lieutenant colonel commander, who was always calm, raised his thick eyebrows and was rarely passionate:

"What a great song, the Great Wall will never fall!"

"Pass on my order, all the infantry who are not participating in this battle for the time being, sing together!"

"I want this song to spread all over China! We want all the people in the country to be soldiers! Our Great Wall will never fall!"