Arc of Gunfire

Two days later in the morning.

The moment Wang Zhong got off the Studebaker, he smelled a familiar aroma in the air.

It was the aroma of Cantonese fried dough sticks. He immediately turned his head and looked in the direction of the aroma. Sure enough, he saw fried dough sticks being sold in the window on the first floor of the teahouse. Inside the window, the shirtless chef with a cigarette in his mouth was making fried dough sticks.

Maybe he was stained by the splashing oil, so the chef cursed: "Damn it!"

Wang Zhong looked at all this with great emotion.

He originally thought that he was probably an Ant, but now he suddenly realized that everything in his homeland was still in his heart, even the sizzling sound of fried dough sticks in the oil pan was so familiar.

People in Chinatown probably haven't seen anyone with so many medals on his chest as Wang Zhong, and those who have nothing to do are all looking at this side.

Wang Zhong didn't care about their gazes. He walked to the breakfast vendor on the roadside and looked at the things on the big bamboo plate.

He didn't know what this kind of breakfast was called when he was young. Anyway, it was a whole plate of rice cake-like things, cut into many small cubes, and poured soy sauce on it and you could eat it.

When he was young, Wang Zhong didn't like this simple breakfast. He preferred to eat noodles and pork offal noodles.

But now, he couldn't stop drooling, all of which was stirring in his mouth.

He swallowed a big mouthful of saliva, and his accent almost blurted out.

But the translator assigned by the United States took the lead and said in Cantonese: "Lai Yifen La (give me one portion), how much?"

Wang Zhong could only say to Yakov in Ant language: "It looks delicious."

Yakov hesitated and looked at the breakfast that could be described as simple: "Is...really?"

Humph, a Russian with no eyesight.

The vendor used a skilled knife to cut a whole piece of white rice cake into pieces, poured soy sauce on it, and then inserted a bamboo stick and handed it to Wang Zhong.

The translator seemed to be about to explain how to eat it, but before he opened his mouth, he saw Wang Zhong grab the plate, pick up a piece with a bamboo stick and throw it into his mouth, then another piece.

Wang Zhong ate it so skillfully, as if he had been eating this thing for more than 20 years.

The translator looked at Wang Zhong suspiciously, then looked at Yakov, and then took out a 20-cent coin and threw it to the vendor: "No need to change."

The vendor was grateful: "Thank you very much!"

After eating, Wang Zhong wiped the corner of his mouth and was about to walk along the street, but was stopped by the translator: "Wait a minute, General! This is the teahouse we booked! This is the headquarters of the ** Hall."

Wang Zhong guessed that the translator translated the hall into the headquarters. He looked up at the plaque of the teahouse and waved his hand and said: "Okay, lead the way."

Translator: "The president here is waiting for you in the private room on the third floor, this way..."

Wang Zhong nodded and followed the translator into the teahouse, and then stopped at the place where the national salvation fund was raised.

He understood every word on it, but he had to ask the translator: "What is this for?"

The translator's answer was very local: "This is a stall selling Serbian war bonds."

Wang Zhong took out his wallet, took out all the rubles in it, and slapped it on the table: "I donated it."

The people guarding the stall were shocked and their eyes were wide open. He couldn't understand the Ant language, so he could only ask in Angsa: "What? Do you want to donate?"

The translator hurriedly said: "Yes, yes, the general wants to donate. He is a war hero of Ant and will support the world's fight against evil. Take it."

The stall owner thanked him repeatedly, but immediately stopped and asked: "Well, whose name should be written?"

Translator: "Admiral Rokosov."

Wang Zhong said in Ant language: "Wang Zhong, write this."

It was the translator's turn and was surprised: "Ah? General? You are..."

Wang Zhong: "It's like this, when I was a child, there was a Khitan equestrian coach in my family, and he gave me a Seris name."

The translator frowned: "Why didn't the Khitan equestrian coach give you a Khitan name?"

"I want him to give me one, I like Sun Tzu's Art of War. And I know that Wang represents the king, Zhong means loyalty and honor, which means loyalty to the king. Let him write it." Wang Zhong also took the risk and started to make up nonsense.

The translator blinked: "Okay, that's it, I'll go tell the stall owner."

The stall owner whispered: "Which Wang and which Zhong?"

The translator briefly explained, and finally, Wang Zhong's name appeared on the donation list.

Looking at his own name that he hadn't seen for a long time, Wang Zhong nodded and walked towards the stairs.

The translator hurriedly followed: "This way, please! The host - I mean, the boss is waiting for you."

Unexpectedly, as soon as the translator finished speaking, an old man in a Tang suit came down from the stairs. Seeing Wang Zhong, he bowed and said: "General, it was Zhang who neglected you, please apologize."

Wang Zhong was sure that his hometown dialect level had not regressed, and he subconsciously wanted to respond, but the translator started translating at this time, so he could only shut up and wait for the translator to finish.

A young man stood behind the old man. It seemed that he had just run up to the third floor and was still a little out of breath. It was probably him who told the old man about Wang Zhong's donation.

After the translation, Wang Zhong immediately bowed and said, "Mr. Zhang, excuse me."

"What are you talking about! We are all comrades fighting against the evil Axis Powers. Please come in!" He stepped aside, made way for the stairs, and gestured for a visit.

Wang Zhong took a step forward.

A moment later, everyone was seated at the carved round table on the third floor.

Mr. Zhang picked up the teapot and filled Wang Zhong's cup.

Wang Zhong subconsciously tapped the table with his fingers. After all, he had been drinking morning tea for many years, and it became a habit.

Mr. Zhang saw this scene and exclaimed: "The general also understands our habits! Unfortunately, we can't really help the general now. To be honest, all the young people in Chinatown have returned to their hometowns to fight. Look at our red sticks, they are all over 40 years old.

"As for the money, to be honest..."

Wang Zhong: "No, I just came to see the hometown of Sun Tzu's Art of War. It helped me defeat the enemy all the way. For example, this secret crossing of Chencang to deceive the sky and the sea, I stole Proson's car last year, turned on the headlights and drove at night, and escaped the enemy's encirclement. "

The Seris people present were embarrassed, and finally the translator whispered: "That's the Thirty-Six Stratagems, not Sun Tzu's Art of War."

Wang Zhong laughed: "Is that so? It's okay, anyway, it was the ancient wisdom of Seris that helped me escape! For me, Seris is my second hometown. "

After saying that, Wang Zhong stopped to give the translator time.

After listening to the translation, Mr. Zhang laughed and said with regret: "It's a pity that we don't have the habit of drinking in the morning, otherwise I must drink with the general until dawn. Come on, let's replace the wine with tea! Cheers! "

Wang Zhong picked up the teacup and drank it all in one gulp, just like drinking wine.

It was tea, but he felt a little tipsy.

Mr. Zhang clapped his hands, and then the snacks were brought in.

There were chicken feet, pork tripe, steamed buns, crystal shrimp dumplings, and so on.

Wang Zhong looked at the delicacies that he hadn't eaten for more than a year, as if he was looking at the mountains and rivers of his homeland, the smoke in the desert, the long river and the setting sun.

At this moment, he felt that the black soil of Kosalia around his waist seemed to tremble, as if the hometown of this time and space and the hometown of another time and space had a dislocated resonance.

Wang Zhong tried to control his hands, picked up a lion's head with chopsticks, and bit it.

The rich aroma of pork and the crispness of water chestnuts rushed into his mouth together, and his eyes were wet, but Wang Zhong pretended to be scalded and made a very loud noise, so no one could notice it.

Fortunately, it had been rehearsed once yesterday.

Fortunately, it was okay.

Mr. Zhang immediately got angry: "How can you use something so hot? Look at how you scald your guests! "

Wang Zhong waved his hands hurriedly, and almost spoke in Cantonese when he spoke, but fortunately he switched temporarily: "It doesn't matter, it's just that this thing is too fragrant, I was too anxious, you know, I often can only eat dry food on the front line, some sour cream and pickles are good. This is so delicious."

Mr. Zhang waited for the translator to finish, and then laughed: "If you like, I can send a team of cooks to Ant! We can still support this!"

Really? Great!

Wang Zhong really wanted to cheer! I can eat authentic Seris dishes in the barracks in the future!

The joy overwhelmed the homesickness, and even made him forget what the Ant people should say at this time. In a hurry, he shouted in Carolingian: "Bolabo (good)!"

Mr. Zhang also laughed: "Bolabo! "

Wang Zhong finished eating the lion's head and reached for the shrimp dumplings with his chopsticks.

At this time, Yakov finally gave up fighting with the chopsticks, picked up the fork, and stabbed a lion's head. Because he was afraid of being hot, he put it close to his lips to feel it.

Then he asked in confusion: "It doesn't seem to be particularly hot... Ouch!"

Wang Zhong retracted his foot that kicked Yakov's shin bone, tasted the shrimp dumplings beautifully, and praised while eating: "Good! Really good!"

Yakov stared at Wang Zhong in confusion for a few seconds before taking a bite of the lion's head with doubt.

Then the two unrelated expressions of doubt and admiration for deliciousness twisted together on his face.

The pleasant morning tea time lasted until noon.

When Wang Zhong was full, he remembered: "Wait a minute, do I have to give a speech?"

The translator said awkwardly: "Well, we didn't arrange a speech session, because even if we give a speech, we really can't buy more war bonds. In fact, every issue of bonds here is over-purchased. We very much hope that the United States Navy can destroy the Fuso Empire Combined Fleet as soon as possible. ”

Wang Zhong: "Think about it carefully, it is indeed a bit strange for a general of Ant to come here to give a speech. However, I like Seris's food very much, please send the cook as promised!"

"Of course, of course." Mr. Zhang said, "I, Zhang, am a man of my word. When you return to Ant, the cook will definitely be on the same plane with you."

Wang Zhong nodded, and then asked Yakov: "What are the arrangements for the afternoon?"

Yakov: "You will attend a congressional consultation meeting in the afternoon, the content is the next stage of assistance to Ant."

Wang Zhong: "Okay, let's go now."

Having morning tea in the morning is just to satisfy Wang Zhong's personal desire. This afternoon meeting is crucial to Ant.