The temperature is getting lower and lower, and autumn this year does not seem to be long, and winter is also about to go to the plains in advance to find out the news.

Running around the plain with a stream of cold moisture.

Outside the mountain, outside a village on the edge of the ** original.

Early in the morning.

Dad Zhao left the village and walked towards the small hills outside the village with a rattan frame on his back.

On the way, we met several thin women from the same village who were wearing thin turbans and slowly moved their steps towards the mountain.

With long breaths, the crowd began to follow Dad Zhao and head up the mountain.

Seeing the tree stumps left on the roadside, Dad Zhao had to speed up his pace and couldn't help but curse in his heart: "When you enter your mother, these unethical guys have even cut down the trees!"

On the barren hills on the roadside, there are rows of peeled trees.

As we approached the top of the hillside, the sound of bang kept coming.

"Liu Ergou, what are you doing?" Old Dad Zhao passed by the old women in front and his eyes widened.

"You have to care, this is not yours." Liu Ergou, who was tied with a straw rope and tied with a torn cotton coat, looked up at the crowd.

Continue to swing the knife and cut down the trees.

Dad Zhao's lips trembled a few times, and he was speechless, so he had to continue walking up the hillside.

Finally walked to a small elm forest.

Unfortunately, the bark was stripped of bark long ago when people could reach the point where they stood on the ground.

Dad Zhao breathed evenly, and looked at the tree trunks that were all yellow and white, and tears flowed all over the place.

Soon, the old and weak were surrounded by him.

Not long after, a middle-aged woman finally plucked up the courage to step forward: "Uncle Zhao, by last night, everyone had peeled all the skins that could be peeled by these elm trees. Look... should we cut down a few trees to peel them up?"

The old security guard with a pleated face trembled and opened his mouth, finally raising his hand to wipe his tears: "Then cut it!"

After saying that, he reached his hand full of blue veins behind him, pulled out the hatchet that had just been ground into black and white, and rushed to the elm tree that was as thick as a bowl in front of him.

Not long after, a gap was cut from half a person high from the tree trunk, and the elm tree made several crackling sounds at the gap. Then, Dad Zhao quickly moved aside.

Put the rope you are carrying on the tree trunk on the gap and pull it hard.

A few women with more strength quickly came up to help, and finally, the tree swayed back and forth for a few times.

The crackling sound became louder and louder, and the elm tree continued to tilt to the side with its crown. The trunk at the gap finally couldn't hold on. The big tree finally fell to the ground with a loud bang, and a large area of ​​dust rose in the forest.

The villagers around the old, weak, women and children immediately rushed up, each of whom chose the position they had seen before, skillfully pulled out all kinds of knives they brought, and immediately peeled the tree trunk.

First, cut two knifes across the trunk, and then between the two cuts that had just been cut, hold the tip of the knife with your hands, and cut the bark along the trunk or larger branches.

Put the tip of the knife into the position where the knife was cut, slowly pry up the bark, and continue to use force to skillfully stuff the knife into the peeled gap. Not long after, a piece of bark was peeled off the trunk, and the bark was thrown into the vine frame.

Then take action on the next bark.

Dozens of people attacked a small tree, and in a few efforts, the bark was stripped naked.

Even the thicker branches were peeled clean, and even the smaller branches were cut down and placed in piles.

Dad Zhao's eyes were dim and he was cruel and walked down a tree...

There are many elderly, weak, women and children who have escaped from famine everywhere in the village.

Under the burned broken courtyard wall at the entrance of the village, a few broken bricks were built between the stoves and iron pots that were ventilated everywhere, emitting a burst of blue smoke, which was carried away by the late autumn wind, rolled across the courtyard wall, and filled everywhere.

Aunt Zhao stuffed a handful of dry firewood into the stove.

I tried to blow a few times and the dust rose up.

Next to him was a seven or eight-year-old girl wearing old and torn clothes that could be seen as floral clothes, looking at the steaming pot in eagerness.

Not long after, a breath came from outside the yard. Dad Zhao was carrying a frame to enter the yard.

Standing at the door, he saw his little granddaughter and his wife who had patched the yard. His son who was cruelly killed by the Japanese and his daughter-in-law who was slaughtered by the Japanese. He was only less than fifty years old. His black hair, which had been covered in a few years ago, has now become gray, and his wife's complexion is getting worse day by day.

But, what's the use of grief?

What's the use of crying?

Dad Zhao raised his hand to wipe away his tears again and continued to walk into the yard.

"Grandpa, grandpa..." The little girl next to the fire staggered towards the old man.

Dad Zhao stretched out his hand to hold the girl who was about to fall, and squeezed out a kind smile that was harder than crying: "Nannan is good, everyone knows how to help her breasts!"

Footsteps kept coming outside the yard, and occasionally someone greeted the yard: "Dad Zhao, thanks to you today!"

"Why are you polite!" Dad Zhao showed a strange smile.

A crow croaked on the edge of the yard, vibrating its wings and flying.

The thin black woman who greeted her at the door was startled and ran away as if she ran away.

He ran in a hurry, ran away from the straw sandals, and quickly came back to step on the straw sandals. With a weak laugh behind him, he ran away without looking back.

Not long after the sun came out, it was emitting faint light and heat to the earth.

The footsteps of walking through the yard became less and less, and the sound of chopping the bark of trees began to be heard from all the yards.

Not long after, the sound of the pot and spoon colliding again.

There were occasional crying sounds of children from weak cries in the middle.

Dad Zhao put down the basket he was carrying, first selected the ugly bark from the basket, placed it on the black wooden board next to the small millstone, slowly peeled off the outer skin with a knife, and skillfully lifted off the white bark inside.

Then pick up another piece of bark from the basket and repeat.

Until six or seven pieces were peeled, I guess it was almost done and the white tree's inner skin was gathered together.

He raised the knife that was no longer sharp and began to slash at the bark that was tied together.

The sound of snatching was heard in the yard.

Not long after I cut off, my hands were not strong enough, so I had to sit under the unpopular eaves next to me, pull out the dry tobacco and stuff the unknown crushed leaves into the tobacco pot, and go into the fire cracks everywhere, lit the dry tobacco pipe.

My wife was sitting on the ground and napping.

Dad Zhao returned to the edge of the millstone and stuffed the half-broken bark into the millstone eyes. He held the grinding rod with one hand and used force, and the millstone began to rotate.

The more broken bark began to spill out from the gaps between the two grinding discs.

Fortunately, there was not much bark, so after finally grinding it all, I lifted up the grinder, swept the pieces on the grinder stones together with the dirty hands, put them into a broken basket, and came to the next stove.

Seeing his wife being listless and seemed to be asleep.

A hoarse voice: "Oh, I'm immortal, hurry up and add some firewood."

My wife seemed to be asleep, and did not reply as usual: "Okay, the boss..."

Old Zhao couldn't help but feel happy. He fell asleep again when the fire burned. He quickly let out a hand and pushed his wife.

My wife finally moved, but she turned to the side.

Dad Zhao felt a sudden slap in his heart. He wanted to pull it, but he was afraid that the bark in the basket would fall to the ground.

After hesitating for a while, I first uncovered the lid of the pot and poured the bark into the slightly bubbled pot.

There was nothing in the pot except yellow water and a hint of water!

After the bark is poured in, it floats on the water surface, a thick layer.

He didn't bother the bark into the water and threw the basket aside.

Then he turned to the side and prepared to pull his wife up.

My wife still didn't wake up.

Dad Zhao was shocked and his trembling hands leaned down to his wife's nose.

Nothing unusual!

Because I don't know the heat!

He didn't want to believe it, so he put his hand under his nose, and his lungs, like a broken bellows, were blowing a stream of hot air under his hands, and the back of his hands was warm with moisture.

I leaned under my wife's nose, but there was still no heat?

After thinking about it, I quickly reached out from my wife's torn cotton coat into my already shriveled chest.

The familiar beating can no longer be felt.

Slap yourself in the face and then put your hand in?

Still no familiar beating.

Old Dad Zhao's ears buzzed, then his mind buzzed, and then suddenly became blank.

The unsightly eyes looked at the little Nannan sitting on the ground next to the grinder, holding a piece of bark and gnawing...
Chapter completed!