208

Fugui spent the afternoon in the dormitory, but he couldn't write the material even though he racked his brains. He sighed, and rubbed the few lines of paper written in anger and threw it into the wastebasket, and then sat there in a daze.

He felt a sense of anger when he came out of the squadron leader. Whenever he thought of the serious faces of the squadron leader and instructor, he felt extremely wronged. From their harsh words, he could feel that what they were facing this time might be a punishment, but he couldn't figure it out. If a soldier cannot stand up when the personal safety of the people is damaged, then he is still a soldier.

He silently lit a cigarette, and the curling blue smoke floated up. He seemed to see the bald man's obscene eyes when he bullied the waitress and the cold face of the bystanders. He dared not think about how much ravage the waiter would have suffered if he didn't stop it at that time. The bald man's shouting was still in his ears: "I'm the People's Liberation Army, I'll be responsible if I beat him to death!"

Thinking of this, Fugui's anger rose again, and his iron fist was tightly clenched, not knowing that the pen had been broken by him, and fragments pierced into his flesh. Fugui looked indifferently at the bright red blood dripping on the blank paper, just like the plum blossoms blooming in winter, so bright.

Fugui didn't bandage it, and let the blood drip quietly, so that the pain in his heart could be vented.

However, what made him most uneasy was that his comrades were implicated in this matter. Fugui felt a little sad. He was not a person who dared not be responsible, but he really couldn't think of a way to help his comrades get rid of them.

He lit another cigarette and forced himself to calm down. When he saw the white paper on the table, he suddenly had an idea. He should find a document to help him write down the matter clearly.

The idea was settled, and he hurriedly washed the blood stains on his hands. As soon as he went out, he saw Xiaoyu lingering under the shade of the trees in the yard. Fugui walked over slowly, but when he arrived at him, he didn't know what to say. He just smiled with a concealment.

Xiao Yu also looked sad, and after a long time, he forced a smile out: "Fugui."

Fugui nodded. He always felt that he had implicated his comrades. At this time, he saw his comrades who had lived and died with him, and his grievances were full of grievances. Fugui looked at Xiaoyu silently across a narrow path, feeling a silent comfort and encouragement from his eyes. At this time, no matter what kind of language, it is difficult to express this spiritual connection. Perhaps, sometimes a look or a sentence can feel the deep friendship between each other.

After a long time, Xiaoyu moved forward a few steps and seemed to have something to say, but hesitated for a while, lowered his head and thought for a while, as if he was considering his words. Finally, he smiled and said, "I just came out of the political commissar. We are a just move. I think... I don't think anything will happen. Okay, I'll go to train first." After that, he left with great strides.

Fugui looked at the background where he was leaving and was silent for a moment. He suddenly felt that he should also ask the political commissar to explain the matter clearly. After all, the cause of this incident was because of him.

He kneaded the few pieces of white paper he held in his hand and threw it into the garbage pool. Just as he was about to find the political commissar, a sharp sound of brakes came from behind. He looked back and saw that the captain had opened the door and jumped out of the car. Fugui saluted him: "Captain."

The captain leaned on the hood of the car, staring at Fugui without saying a word.

Fugui felt a little scared under his cold eyes. After a long time, the captain silently took out a cigarette and lit it, gently spit out a few cigarette rings, glanced at Fugui who was standing there and said, "Why, are you still waiting for me to ask you?"

Fugui knew what the captain was saying. He looked back at his comrades passing by in groups of three or three, looked at the captain and said, "Just talk here?"

The captain glared at him and said with a stern face: "What, I have done it, what are you afraid to say?"

Fugui hesitated for a moment, then explained everything that happened that day to the captain in detail, and then looked at the captain's face nervously.

The captain's frown gradually stretched out, and his face relaxed a lot: "So, don't you blame me for this?" After saying that, he pinched the cigarette butt on the hood, and showed a hint of blame in his eyes: "You are not brainy. You can call the police at that time. Now, I believe you have done a good thing. But others, now they are suing you for drinking and causing trouble, and what's even more annoying is that no one who speaks for you can find them. How can you prove your innocence?"

Fugui didn't expect this to be the result. He looked at the captain in surprise: "There were many people watching that day, let's talk about that waiter can prove it?"

The captain glared at him and said to Feng Ji, "The waiter has resigned long ago and no one can be found. You can tell the political commissar about the whole story of this matter. In addition, you can prepare a written material and hand it over to me." After that, he jumped into the car and started the motor. He was about to start, but suddenly stopped and exposed his head from the window and said, "Also, no matter who investigates in the future, you will tell me the truth. We are not afraid of being crooked. Have you heard it clearly?"

Fugui watched his car gradually fade away, and suddenly felt a heart-warming cold in his heart.

209

When Fugui arrived at the political commissar's office, hesitated for a moment before making a report. When Fugui heard the political commissar's "come in." Fugui opened the door and saw the political commissar standing in front of the window, looking thoughtful. He turned his head and looked at Fugui, then sat down on the chair, picked up a pen from the table, and tweaked it in his hand, looking at Fugui with bright eyes, as if he was expecting something.

It was not until Fugui described the whole story that the political commissar nodded, put down the pen that had been rotating in his hand, flipped through the paper on the table and said, "You all said the same thing. It seems that the process of the matter is indeed the case, but," he paused and looked up at Fugui: "Fugui, you are an honest person. I hope you can tell the truth to me and start to stop the gangsters in the hotel... No, it's the time for those people, and it's your first move?"

Fugui nodded. He didn't know the political commissar's intentions, so he thought for a while and explained: "That group of hooligans bullied the waitress, I..."

The political commissar waved his hand and said, "I know what happened. I want to know now. When you went to stop it, did anyone order you to go? Or someone else go with you?" He seemed to feel that his words were a little inappropriate, and he coughed twice in a concealment: "I mean, that day was led by Dawn. Did he order you to stop those people's behavior at that time? Or your comrades-in-arms acted with you?"

Fugui shook his head and said, "No."

The political commissar stared at Fugui suspiciously for a while, and then asked: "When you plan to return to the team? Those people gathered around, who ordered you to do it? Is it dawn?"

Fugui felt a little targeted from the political commissar’s question. He stared at the political commissar in a daze, not knowing how to answer him.

The political commissar stood up and adjusted the rotating fan and said, "Fugui, your squadron leader has already talked to you, right? You probably know the consequences of your actions this time, right? Three are seriously injured, three! Now their families are looking for them every day, demanding that the perpetrators be severely punished. The superior chief also attaches great importance to it and requires an investigation to be launched immediately and deal with this matter seriously. Therefore, the superior established an investigation team and it is estimated that they will come soon. So I ask you not to act voluntarily when you are under investigation and actively cooperate with the investigation."

Fugui stood attentively and said: "Yes, I must be actively investigated."

"However," the political commissar lowered his head and walked a few steps, "Those people said that you teased the waitress after drinking in a hotel, and did not give them money for food. They went to stop you, but they were beaten seriously injured by you. Of course, this is also their one-sided statement, and we still need to investigate and understand. But the story of your narrative is different. Yu Junguang said that he took the lead in stopping, and Liming said that he issued the order." After saying that, he looked at Fugui meaningfully and said, "These two comrades are very irresponsible. How can they cooperate with the investigation? Especially Liming not only disobeyed orders, but also attempted to lead a team to smash someone's hotel. Is there any soldier like this? Fugui, you are the soldier I led. I know you, and you know you are honest and honest, so you must not act irritably, do you understand?"

Fugui never thought that things would be so serious. He had done good things with his comrades, but now he is not only not praised, but also being framed and investigated. He would not accept it anyway. He wanted to refute it, but he was not good at just making excuses. He just stared with his eyes wide and his iron fists clenched.

The political commissar may have noticed Fugui's anger. He sat down, picked up the pen and turned it around for a few times, sighed deeply and said, "Of course, I can understand your mood. As you said, after all, they are drinking and causing trouble, and you are also trying to uphold justice. But have you ever thought about it? Even if you stand up for the unfairness, you should have a degree? You are rigorously trained special forces team members, can they withstand your three punches and two kicks? Now, more than a dozen people are lying in the hospital. How do you let others think of our special forces team?"

Fugui felt like his chest was blocked, and he could hardly breathe. He let out a deep breath, but the thing seemed to be stuck in his throat. He finally couldn't help but argue: "But we didn't stop those guys at that time, let the onlookers see us soldiers in military uniforms? What's more than 30 of them besieged us with weapons, so we should..."

"Okay," the political commissar lowered his head and rubbed his temples, waved his hand and said, "You go back now, don't forget what I said just now, don't act irritating."

Fugui walked out of the door in a depressed mood and sat down on the low concrete wall in the courtyard. Thinking about the political commissar just now, it was hard to understand what the political commissar said. A breeze blew, and the leaves on the poplar trees next to him were rustling, and a few yellow leaves fell gently. Fugui bent down and picked up one. He tore it and looked blankly at the golden veins on the fallen leaves. He looked up at the leaves swaying in the wind on the tree, thinking silently: Why did the dead leaves that were originally in autumn fall in the season when the branches and leaves were lush?

There were constant shouts from the training ground. He knew that it was his comrades training under the scorching sun. He suddenly remembered himself. Since the late autumn ten years ago, the young and young man stepped on this hot land and worked hard for his dreams. On this road he chose, he had been watering his sweat on this dry Gobi Desert, and he had sprinkled his blood on this territory he guarded day and night, but he had never regretted that for the flying military flag and the glorious and sacred honor of "soldiers", he could give his youth and even his life...

He looked up at the blue sky, where a few flowing clouds were swimming quietly by, and he suddenly remembered the swallows... When they clasped their fingers and vowed to hold the eternity of life tightly with each other, but the outline of time was still blurred with traces...

Memories are like swaying fallen leaves, connecting the dreams of the past one by one. Wealth cannot bear to look at the flying fallen leaves anymore, because the shadow of the swallows falls quietly in his heart with the fallen leaves...

If the swallow had spirit in the sky and knew that she had suffered a grievance, would she feel distressed? As she murmured, a drop of clear tears winded down from Fugui's face and dripped on the dead leaves in her hand, wetting the clearly visible veins.

The breeze blows gently, bringing a refreshing feeling, but it can't even blow away the boredom and sorrow that the pan in Fugui's heart...

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