All the emperors stand up and watch the stars of mankind shine

The golden list, but the font is scarlet, like tears, like blood.

[Please support justice and protect the people]

[Since ancient times, there have been people who have buried their heads in hard work, there have been people who have worked hard and hard, and there have been people who have asked for the people. He who lives is a man who sacrifices his life to seek the law]

[And the people who brought China out of the darkness]

Yes or no. The newly hired counselor of the industrial organization was confused: "When will the national faction kill us?" "

The old counselor Li Dazhao shouted comrade, eternal quiet:

"Born in hardship, grown in difficulty, rose up in grief, drank angrily in indignation, sought in fog, persevered in hopelessness, stood tall in adversity; Burning before dawn; Let my youthfulness turn into light, banish darkness, tear through the night, and light up the day! The souls of my generation have long been integrated into the bloodline, forged into the bones, and passed down in the backbone of the sons and daughters of China from generation to generation! "

It was the back of a person, Li Dazhao and his wife and children, said goodbye one by one, refused friends to let themselves hide,

Li Dazhao! From the new article. From the fight against the Great Qing to various warlords, various factions, and all kinds of foreigners, he did not retreat once.

Workers liked to honor him as Mr. Bearded because he had a beard like the Russian thinker Chenning.

Farmers like to honor him as Mr. Li because he is scholarly and approachable.

The new comrade likes to affectionately call him teacher, comrade, Comrade Li,

Now, his thin back walked into the shadows of twilight... The scattered plants and trees are so life-loving.

The wind has wings, and at this moment, skimming over the willows in front of you, it must be the fluff in its feathers...

Mr. Li Dazhao walked towards Beiping, which was under the jurisdiction of the northeastern warlord Zhang Dashuai. Rumors are constantly being caught.

It's nothing.

[If you can martyr the ideal of this life, it is probably the most satisfying thing in life]

Spring and Autumn have no righteous war, born in this, Mo Zhai thought that his ideals in this life might not be realized.

But on the gold list, he saw afterlife from an unknown time.

A group of readers, the lowest people, in that era, set off a magnificent epic.

They call it, ideal.

When the bearded reader on the gold list melted into the shadows with his back, Mo Zhai stood up.

Not only him, but Zhang Zhongjing of the Eastern Han Dynasty flicked his sleeves and looked up.

Da Tang Du Fu put down the wine bowl.

Daming Li Shizhen put away the medicine basket.

Figures from different eras, together with each other, spanning more than 2,000 years of torrents, mighty.

"Descendants, but!"

The gold chart screen turns.

April brings with it a cold spring.

Chen Duxiu looked at a non-existent alone. News from the members of the industrial organization from Qidong.

A heartless 683 maniac slaughter began in Zhidong.

He suddenly realized how crazy the nationalists really were.

He looked at Cai Yuanbai, who was sitting across from him, the old principal who had single-handedly pulled him into Beijing University and single-handedly taught a new generation.

Cai Yuancheng looked at him calmly, without any waves in his eyes.

"It is undeniable that the nationalists have followed the Western military, economic, and now the results are enough to verify."

"I admit that what you said is nothing. The production is very good, but it gathers everywhere to speak out, often inciting the people, it is too chaotic. "

"Today's China needs silence and precipitation."

Chen Duxiu was angry.

"That can't be treated like that either. Rumors! "

He thought of his friend Li Dazhao, thought of his son Chen Yannian, Chen Qiaonian and thought of his student Zhao Shiyan....

He panicked and wanted to write a letter, but the old and clumsy hand held him, it was Cai Yuan.

"History will know later that we are right, and for the right path, these are nothing."

So the hand holding the pen loosened.

Chen Duxiu looked out the window in confusion, the wind did not blow on him, he actually felt a chill.

Is it really right?

The gold list screen unfolds.

The cold wind blows, outside the temple, the platform is stacked, and on the cold stone slab, Li Dazhao's wife Zhao Jianlan lights the three-pillar incense, and the smoke is far away.

She does not believe in immortals because her husband is a staunch materialist.

Now in order to help her husband, she has also begun to worship God.

Step by step, the eldest lady from a feudal family spoke in a gentle and firm voice.

"Bodhisattva, please bless my husband."

"He's really doing it for the world."

"How many times has he been home in the past ten years, how many days has he been at home?"

"Lately he's been coughing a lot, and he's in very poor health."

Zhao Jianlan didn't remember how many times she knelt down, only remembered that the day the wind roared, and her thin body was more like a fallen leaf that was struggling to hold onto.

Only the voice is more and more firm.

"Ask the Bodhisattva, protect him."

"Let him live, let me die."

Zhao Jianlan lifted up, and her head was stained with dirt.

She hadn't read a book, but she wasn't stupid, and the newspapers on the streets were saying that the nationalists were in pursuit.

It was the only way she could help her husband.

The sky is desolate, and the thick clouds hide the light, and the silhouette is vast.

In the tens of thousands of miles of mountains and rivers, who could have noticed a woman kneeling alone in a temple.

And what kind of learning children are around?

The text of the gold list emerged.

[Li Dazhao continues to be none. The industrial organization is running, and now in the embassy of the old Maozi Soviet State, he is busy dealing with the targeting of the nationalists, but this world seems to be unwilling to give him even a little more time, the enemy comes]

Bang!

The gate was kicked open.

Zhang Dashuai, who was carrying a gun, rushed in savagely, and then began to smash at random.

Behind him stood Dong Ying, and Zhang Dashuai's soldiers were not afraid of the others except for not moving these East Win people.

Even if it's an old Maozi.

The letter in Li Dazhao's hand was only half written, and the pen and ink were not dry.

The moment he turned his head and saw the soldiers constantly smashing and the ensuing wind swept up the paper, he knew what that meant.

The betrayal of traitors came so quickly.

"Don't smash it, it's a book, just come and get me."

This bearded man is always so calm and calm, even his voice carries some kind of great power.

Some soldiers, who had always been arrogant and domineering, stopped.

Li Dazhao's gaze passed through the gap in the shade of the trees outside the window, and he vaguely saw the twilight and dusk, and there was a jackdaws calling outside the window, hurried and excited.

"It's coming too fast, I haven't finished writing yet."

"Now the nationalists are also targeting none. Production organization. "

Li Dazhao said while putting down his pen and calmly facing the soldiers.

The young warlord seemed to be a little angry and tied to the rope, but was interrupted by the warlord who took the lead.

"Handcuffed, he has a good status."

So Li Dazhao walked down the street with cold handcuffs.

He looked at the dark sky outside, his gaze soft.

In the twilight of dusk, the clouds were thick, but a light fell strangely on him.

At that moment, the reader who walked calmly shone brightly, really like a saint.

The interrogation went on faster than he thought

In the dark prison, there was no sunlight all day long, and the greatest torture was now on him, and those bloody scenes could not make this reader shake the slightest.

The prison soon smelled of rust.

The others who had been captured with him heard the gentleman's quiet and majestic opening, and tears finally burst into their eyes.

"Comrades, behind the two or three pages of history books, or a few short paragraphs of narration, there is actually blood and youth in the eyes, and every stroke of those words carries warmth, and history will not forget you."

"Just because all things are finally exhausted, you should not think that they have disappeared from now on, that is, the flowers of the dynasty have been gone, and the fruits seem to rot into the soil, and some people have sung sadly for this because they have experienced the afterglow. But the true people of lofty ideals have already taken action, guarding the seeds that they may not be able to see, and exploring the future abruptly in the fog. "

At that time, Li Dazhao seemed to be taking people across time and space and stepping into the era of initial exploration. (Read violent novels, just go to Feilu Fiction Network!) ）

"What we need to do is to learn the truth of being a person and doing things before this seed grows up, know how to think for yourself, do our job well, and move forward with good spirits."

"I really have a big wish, I must succeed, I should think about what I should do now, what I may encounter in the future, what I can start in advance for future generations, and what I can do." Comrade, the kind of thought that a person recognizes does not fade, then when did he himself, as part of the complete thought itself, really leave us? Time can not stop him from continuing to shine and point out to future generations, why send the limited, never-returning time to the sad song? "

The gentleman's voice became more and more impassioned, as if he wanted to completely break this rotten prison, tear through the darkness that swept through.

"Comrade, erudite and determined, inquiring and thoughtful, benevolent among them. Don't forget, don't leave, do every step steadily, the rest of the things, you can say it slowly, not urgent, not boring, comrades are still early, cheer up and move forward! "

Li Dazhao's eyes were still soft, but also carried an inexplicable strength.

"It's okay to part, even if the yin and yang are separated, I feel like we are still fighting together."

Yes, he said that behind history, in fact, (BCEI) is full of blood and youth.

He seemed to be forever firm in his belief that they too would be history.

So the smell of rust in the prison became stronger, and the cruel voice of torture suddenly became insignificant in front of Mr.

Those flames and blurred flesh and blood were only hidden under the power of words, and finally dissipated.

The other people who were arrested in prison suddenly noticed the soft glow faintly shining at the window.

It was a light in a cell where he couldn't see his fingers for a long time.

Light mixed with the smell of rust.

At that moment, the cell finally erupted into a shout that was not too big, nor could it gather into a torrent, but it came from the bones, the deepest shouts in the bloodline.

"No, sir. Long live production! "

The warlord who was interrogating looked at this scene, and the leather whip and soldering iron in his terrified hand were a little heavy.

The leader looked at the group of people in front of him in a complicated way, not knowing why, as if he saw a figure illuminated by firelight.

"You guys..."

"You guys are crazy, you people, you are crazy!"

The torture thus ended.

[On the 6th of that month, Li Dazhao and dozens of people without . The members of the industrial organization were arrested by the warlord Zhang Zuolin Department, and Gu Weijun of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs was unwilling to fight for the tiger and refused Zhang Zuolin's request to communicate with Tsarist Russia to arrest people.

[Beijing University, including 9 colleges and universities in Beijing, jointly sent representatives to Yu Wenshan, then president of Beijing University, and Zhang Yihui, president of Beijing Normal University, visited Zhang Xueliang and applied for transfer to the court, but asked for a lawyer without success]

[Two days later, 25 universities in Beijing Normal University sent representatives again to issue a proposal without success]

[Three days later, the world newspaper published ten reasons for Li Dazhao's release, and the news was lost]

[The official Yang Du of the North and South used his identity to campaign for Li Dazhao, Zhang Shizhao personally lobbied the warlord for Li Dazhao, the Russian embassy openly opposed, and overseas Tsarist Russia held a gathering of 100,000 people to speak out, but in the end. ]

The golden list picture, reappeared.

In prison, Mr. Li Dazhao faced the torture of the warlords and put forward his only conditions.

"Use hanging."

"Even if I die, I will open my eyes and watch the rise of New China, instead of bullets penetrating and closing my eyes."

He didn't seem to care about discussing the specifics.

On this day's prison, the rare sunshine outside the window actually fell on Li Dazhao through the small four-square hole.

Faced with Li Dazhao's proposal, it was clear that he was a warlord who threatened to torture him, and he was silent for a moment and reported the news to the marshal.

Li Dazhao was not in a hurry, and received Zhang Dashuai to buy gallows overseas, and he just quietly picked up the pen.

The sunlight shining in from the square hole fell on the handwriting in front of him.

It was the last stroke he left for his handwriting, and it was also the trace of his own existence.

The sound of pen and ink mixed with his chanting.

"Zhao Zishu issued a letter, that is, committed to working hard for the Chinese solution. Let go of the cause, practice what they believe, practice what they know, do what they know, and do not have time for merit and sin. "

Yes, he has no time to calculate the merits and losses, he has always been determined to explore step by step.

Always on the way.

Outside the cell door, there is a complex opening for the warlord.

"Your gallows has arrived."

Li Dazhao put down his pen and sorted out his clothes.

The reader in the robe seemed to take a calm step, as if rushing to a vast expanse.

Step by step, he began to run to the execution ground, looking at the others.

Having experienced torture, his robe was stained with blood scabs and his clothes were torn.

The heavy shackles on his feet touched the ground coldly, clanging, and he walked and watched.

So he was taken from the prison to a small alley, but hundreds of steps away, thousands of Jingshi people came.

There were rickshaw drivers quietly wiping their tears, teenagers clutching newspapers and periodicals with red eyes, and progressive students standing at the front of the crowd, crying silently.

The people here know him.

The bearded reader.

The sky seemed to be mourning, but in the clouds, the sun shone on him, sprinkling a warm golden yellow.

The sound of shackles never stopped, and he raised his head, glanced at the harsh light, and smiled.

"Good sun, why not shine on my China and dispel dark spots."

Readers bathed in sunlight speak as generous as ever.

The gallows were ordered from overseas exotic countries.

The warlord intends to increase the pressure on him with such a torture device, hemp rope, cold water, and dark traces of blood on the stage.

Li Dazhao walked with his head held high, not a prisoner on the execution ground, but more like a knight entering the battlefield.

He didn't look at the warlords, and he took the initiative to stick out his head.

The rough hemp rope began to tighten, and at that moment he thought a lot.

Thought of myself.

That year, the North and South officially agreed to the 21st Article, and he led the students of Beijing University to fight for reason.

The following year, he continued to edit the magazine Jia Yin in Jingshi and also joined the New Youth Magazine.

That year, he began to study the difference between the death of the country and Tsarist Russia, and also began to sing the praises of propaganda and death with the victory of the common people.

He walked on nothing. The road to the production organization.

and Chen Duxiu founded a weekly review, personally took to the streets to distribute leaflets.

Later, he founded the Marx Thought Research Group of the Jingshi and met with Wu on his way to Tsarist Russia. After the representatives of the international industry, they successively established Jingshi Wu. Production group, youth league, night school for workers in Changxindian.

After that, he and Mr. Sun Zhongshan made a decision on the United States of Russia and Russia. Production, support the development path planning of workers and peasants.

The marquee in his mind was finally fixed on his wife and children.

In the cold hemp rope, Li Dazhao had determination in his eyes.

"Gentlemen, take a step ahead of the ordinary, and then the light of the red star will surely shine on the long river of dark history!"

This one hand holds the Chinese nothing. The bearded reader who grows step by step in the production organization opens his eyes to the world.

Although his world is already red as blood.

In the sky, the thunder was deafening, and a rain fell, as if washing away the dirt of this world.

Someone in the crowd choked and whimpered, like an old lament.

The warlord looked at it in a complicated way, and even the executioner was terrified.

This was the first time they felt inexplicable aura suppression.

The suppression of this reader.

The people who saw them off walked in the dim darkness mixed with heavy rain and thunder, densely packed and filled the streets and alleys.

In Fudan Public School, some students cried and cried, unable to cry.

In Jincheng, when the elderly old man by the river paid homage to the Boxer brothers, he folded an extra paper boat with Li Dazhao's name written on it.

Changxindian workers night school, workers in their forties curled up, crying like a child.

In the secret underground, the counsellor who was protected in advance looked at the newspaper and the magazine with red eyes.

"Sir."

Thirty-eight-year-old Li Dazhao ended his life.

A pitch-black flame flashed with golden red fire in the embers, burning silently like this, only occasionally bursting out a few sparks, and finally erupted in the fierce wind of history, completely engulfing the decaying edifice.

Mr. Shou Chang, let's go.