Burning Moscow

　　 Azerbaijan! Whenever I heard the name of this country, my teeth tickled with hatred.

　　 This deep-seated hatred stems from the sudden closure of the Cherkizovo market in Moscow at the end of June and the beginning of July 2009, and the goods of all merchants were sealed in the market. In this case, the black hairs with bad reputations started to think about it, especially those Azerbaijanis who do business. Even if they patted your shoulder during the day, they called you brothers and sisters, and vowed to say that they would help you in the same boat. But at night, they would still quietly spend money to buy through the security guards who watched the market, sneak into the market secretly, either prying open the Chinese businessmen's store and stealing the goods and money inside, or placing the Chinese businessmen in their stores for selling goods. Swept away, and then fled.

　　 In this way, in just one or two weeks, the actions of this small group of people have turned Azerbaijanis into notorious street rats. So that those who later deal with Chinese businessmen must solemnly declare: "I am not from Azerbaijani." Then they will indignantly scold the last sentence: "Azerbaijanis are bad guys!"

I often think about it: If I run into those Azerbaijanis who rolled my cargo and ran away, and I happened to be holding a knife in my hand at the time, would I stab them without hesitation? ?

　　 Zhukov turned his head inadvertently and just saw my gnashing face, and he couldn't help asking in a bit of surprise: "Lida, what's the matter with you?"

　　 When he asked, I suddenly woke up from the gaffe. I hurriedly covered up and said, "It's nothing, toothache!"

　　 "Toothache?!" Zhukov looked at me sympathetically, "There is no dentist in the army. If you have severe pain, I will accompany you back to the hygienist and ask for painkillers. We won't go to the wedding."

"Don't, don't delay your visit to the soldier's wedding. My toothache is okay. I will pass it with forbearance. Thank you for your concern, Georgi Konstantinovich." You must know that Nomenkan is Zhukov's fame. War, he didn't know how happy he was to see his old comrades-in-arms here. Now that he has promised the colonel to go to the wedding, I can't let him break his promise. Even if I hate the Azerbaijanis in my heart, I can only bite the bullet and die with the gentleman.

　　 Under the guidance of Colonel Porosuhi, our car came to a building two or three kilometers away from the battle line, where the wedding will be held. A few young soldiers stood at the door, greeting the guests who came in succession. I saw those who walked into the building, almost all soldiers.

　　 Seeing our arrival, the two soldiers at the door rushed towards us. When he arrived in front of him, he stood at attention and saluted. One of them reported to Zhukov loudly: "Comrade General, Sergeant Elson reported to you that we are preparing for the wedding. Please give instructions!"

　　 "Nothing to instruct," Zhukov said with a smile: "You keep busy, we just come and have a look, don't be so restrained, they are all old comrades who participated in the Battle of Nomonkan."

　　 "I have seen you, Comrade General," the young soldier beside Elson said suddenly.

　　 "Oh, really? When?" Zhukov asked with interest.

　　 "In August 1939, the day before we launched a counterattack against the Japanese army, you gave instructions to our regiment. After defeating the Japanese, you personally awarded me a medal."

Medal. Upon hearing this word, I saw a shiny medal on the soldier’s chest. Zhukov looked at the medal on the soldier’s chest and nodded and said, "Well, I’m a little impressed. I remember you were on the battlefield. Seventy-five Japanese soldiers were killed. I remember correctly, Gusang is the first soldier. Oh, no, you are already a corporal now."

　　 "It's me, Comrade General." The soldier puffed up his chest proudly, and said a little excitedly: "I don't think you remember me."

　　 "Comrade General," said Colonel Polo Suxi, who had been silent next to him, "Unexpectedly, you also know Gassan. Today we are here to attend his wedding."

"Oh, it turns out that the bridegroom tonight is you, Corporal Gassang." As soon as Zhukov grasped Gassang's hand, he kept saying: "I didn't expect that our hero has reached the age of starting a family and business. I sincerely congratulate you! "

Seeing Kasang flushed with shame, Elson even came to the ground to relieve him: "Comrade General, thank you very much for coming to my brother’s wedding. Don’t stand at the door anymore. It’s cold outside. Please sit inside. Right."

　　 The place where the wedding banquet was held was originally a restaurant. There are no lights or decorations in the hall, and there is no festive atmosphere. The tables are placed on the four sides of the hall, leaving a wide space in the middle. When I was sitting, I was still wondering if I had to leave such a wide space in the middle of the room, would I have to let the bride and groom stand here later, and what show to perform for the guests?

　　 I looked around curiously. Apart from me, I can’t see any women anymore. What's the matter? How can this wedding be held without a bride?

　　 When everyone is seated, the wedding officially begins.

　　 Corporal Gassan, accompanied by his brother Elson, came to the middle of the house. I thought it was the same as a domestic marriage. I had to ask the leader to speak first, so I turned my gaze to Zhukov and Porosus. However, seeing the two of them still sitting there motionless, watching the excitement with interest, so I too. He turned his gaze to the brothers standing in the middle.

　　 Elson spoke in Azerbaijani babbledly for a long time, but I didn’t understand a word. Then an elderly man in casual clothes came up again, and then Barabara spoke for a long time, but I still didn't understand even a word. It wasn't until Elson spoke again, repeating everything just now to us in Russian, that he knew he was expressing his blessing to his brother.

　　 After Elson finished speaking, then the uncles and uncles in their village took turns to speak in the middle, all congratulating Gasang and saying some words to wish him happiness. Until the beginning of the dance, no one asked Zhukov or Porosuhi to come forward and say a few words, as if they had forgotten the two of them. It was unimaginable to change to such a neglect of leadership in China.

　　 Why there are no brides at the wedding, I asked Polo Suxi curiously. He was also vague, and vaguely said it might be an Azerbaijani tradition. According to the rules, if there is no bride at the wedding, no other women can appear at the wedding. My presence is definitely an anomaly.

　　 After everyone’s blessing to the groom was over, the groom, accompanied by the two best men, returned to a table in the corner to sit down and eat. As for the work of toasting the guests, it was represented by his brother Elson.

　　 When Elson came to our table to toast, Zhukov was very bold and even drank two full glasses of vodka, Porosuhi was unambiguous, and drank all the vodka in the glass. When it was my turn, I only took a symbolic sip. I knew that I was not drinking well, and it would be great to make a fool of myself if I was drunk.

　　 After a round of drinking, the guests rushed to the middle of the venue, kicked on the wooden floor with their leather boots, and jumped vigorously with the cheerful rhythm of the accordion. When they were happy, two people stood by the dance floor and threw money into the air. These five kopecks and ten kopecks fell like snowflakes. When the money was over, the two squatted down again to pick up the banknotes on the ground, and re-spread them again, so that they continued to sprinkle again and again. It is said that sprinkling money at the wedding means that the newlyweds will have endless wealth in the future.

　　 Zhukov looked at the dancing people with a smile, and whispered a few words to Porosuhi from time to time. I turned hatred into appetite. Anyway, the descendants of these Azerbaijanis cheated me. At this wedding banquet, I have to open my appetite and eat back all my losses. I pulled the caviar, foie gras, salmon and the like on the table into my own bowl, and ate them in disregard of the image of my lady.

"Comrade Major," a nice voice suddenly came from my side. When I looked up, a handsome young sergeant was standing in front of me. He smiled and asked me: "I can ask you to dance. ?"

　　 I put down the knife and fork in my hand and glanced at Zhukov who was sitting across from me. He smiled and nodded, motioning me to agree to the party's invitation. Since he did not object to it, I have no reason to oppose it. He stretched out a hand, stood up with his help, and jumped up with him in the middle.

　　 He put his arms around my waist and slowly circled in the middle of the dance floor. He leaned close to my ear and said quietly, "My dear, you are so beautiful."

　　 "Thank you, of course." My tone of voice has become more and more like an old woman.

　　 "My name is Layi. How should I call you?"

　　 Hearing this name, it was actually the same as the name of the black hair who ran the most of my cargo. I couldn't help but itch with hatred, thinking that the Layi in front of me would not be the ancestor of the Layi in later generations? I didn't want to talk to him, but since others have already asked me very politely, I would be too ignorant if I didn't answer, so I just said indifferently: "You call me Oshanina."

　　 "Beautiful major girl, let's go for a walk outside." As soon as I finished saying my name, he suddenly made such a request. I understand very well that just taking a walk in his mouth is not equivalent to drinking beer and eating crayfish for later generations, and then finding a quiet place to discuss life. In such a cold day, go outside to find a haystack to discuss life, UU reading www. uukanshu.com is not cold and sick. So I rejected him very directly: "I'm sorry, no."

　　 "My dear, I love you." His confession was really direct.

　　 "But I don't love you." I answered him coldly.

　　 After saying this, I want to push him away and go back to my seat. He didn't know that he hugged me tightly, his left hand encircled my waist, and his right hand proficiently reached in between the buttons of the front placket of my military uniform, grabbed my right breast and rubbed it unscrupulously. My blood rushed to my face. I didn't expect this person to be so shameless, but on this occasion, I couldn't shout loudly. In the United States, this is regarded as sexual harassment; but in Russia, this is an ordinary thing, and everyone thinks it is a logical and good thing. I didn't want to suffer from such a dumb loss. After struggling for a few times, I didn't get rid of it, so I stomped him severely on the back of his instep. I took the opportunity to get away and ran back to my seat while he was jumping on the spot with his injured foot and whirring.

When I was breathing, I caught a glimpse of Zhukov looking down at his watch, and then I heard him say to Porosuhi: "It's getting late, Colonel, it's time for me and Lida to go back to the headquarters." Then he stood up. He stretched out his hand and shook the colonel, and said, "I wish you good health, goodbye!"

　　 then walked around the table and strode outside. I also shook hands with the colonel quickly, and fled behind Zhukov and left the room.

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