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"Sister, our parents have been taken away. Did you know?" she asked.
Liu Momo let out a long sigh, her head gently leaning against the wall. In the slanting afternoon sun, with her red makeup, she leaned against the railing and sighed softly, her lips slightly parted as if in a daze.
"Jingjing, we will find a way to rescue our parents. Don't worry," Liu Momo lifted her gaze and slowly turned her face towards Liu Jingjing, her eyes carrying a hint of comfort.
"Almost all the students in Beiping have come out. There are uprising students on every street. I've heard that the female students from the girls' school have also rushed out. But... the casualties are severe." Fang Lansheng appeared before them, drenched in sweat, startling Liu Jingjing, who trembled slightly.
At that moment, Liu Momo moved closer, gently hooking her elbow around Fang Lansheng's arm. She took a red silk scarf from her qipao and softly wiped the sweat from his forehead.
Somewhere deep inside Liu Jingjing, a pain was stirred again. In the cold wind, she instinctively tightened the collar of her qipao and turned her face away, her eyes filled with loneliness.
"I should go back to school now. Sister, take care of yourselves."
With that, Liu Jingjing stepped away, her footsteps heavy as she made her way towards the school.
A few steps away, Liu Jingjing slowed her pace again. She slightly turned her head, glancing back, but the person she was waiting for had not caught up.
The grayness of the sky deepened.
After leaving Guomin Street, a rumble of thunder erupted above her. She slowly raised her head to look at the sky, still shrouded in dark gray. However, right after the thunder, a fierce voice rang out, shouting, "Down with Japanese imperialism! Restore our beautiful homeland!"
The powerful voices of the students filled the air. She stood quietly, watching as they waved their national flags, filled with fervor and determination. There was a hint of admiration in her eyes.
The Liu family had fallen into decline, and her sister and Fang Lansheng were no longer by her side.
She bit her lip, her lips trembling slightly. As that group of students approached, she resolutely joined the long line, their footsteps unwavering. The sounds of gunfire and explosions from the Japanese forces continued relentlessly, thick plumes of smoke rising into the sky over Beiping.
Once she merged into the crowd, Liu Jingjing shouted along with the students' slogans, her voice clear and firm. The sound of Japanese artillery never ceased; they were rampant, reckless, and merciless in their slaughter.
Beiping, 1937, smoke and chaos filled the air.
The student uprising in Beiping had begun, and war had finally erupted.
Fang Lansheng had managed to secure a safe place for Liu Jingjing on Guomin Street before bravely heading to Fangli Garden to rescue Liu Momo.
At that moment, Liu Momo still wore her red qipao, though the heavy makeup had faded, leaving her face looking somewhat haggard.
The play that Fang Lansheng had invited Liu Momo to see was, of course, no longer an option.
However, it suited Liu Jingjing perfectly. Even though she had encountered Fang Lansheng first, he did not love her.
When she saw Fang Lansheng again, he was dressed in a long blue Zhongshan suit, exuding an air of righteousness.
He stood by the street, a small white bucket filled with paste at his feet. In his left hand, he held a thick stack of images, while his right hand quickly brushed the wall twice before expertly sticking an image onto it.
The woman in the image had a small black mole on her upper lip, clearly visible.
As he bent down to pick up the paste bucket, a slender hand suddenly appeared in front of him. He slowly raised his head.
A fresh bob of hair framed his view, accompanied by a blue top, a black skirt, white cotton socks, and cloth shoes—just as he remembered her.
The images and brush fell to the ground as he trembled and reached out his hand, excitedly pulling the petite figure into his embrace. He wrapped his arms tightly around her, afraid that if he let go for even a moment, she would disappear again.
"Jingjing, I knew you would come back to find me." The joy of their reunion made him momentarily forget the chaos of war around them. He couldn't see the crowds fleeing in panic; he couldn't hear the sounds of gunfire and explosions. All that filled his gaze was Liu Jingjing.
"You should go find your sister; I don't want you to worry about me." Jingjing turned her face away, her eyes reddening as tears welled up in her gaze.
He pulled Jingjing into his embrace, gently stroking her soft hair, and said slowly, "Jingjing, what I like is you, not Liu Momo."
"Then why are you with my sister?"
Lan Sheng was at a loss for words. He lowered his head in thought, then looked at Jingjing with his gentle eyes and asked, "Why do I smell something sour?"
Jingjing shyly punched him lightly on the chest, holding him tightly. Her sparkling nails dug into his Zhongshan suit as tears streamed down her face like a thin river, her body trembling slightly.
"Lan Sheng, I miss you."
In recent days, Fang Lansheng had searched every corner of Beiping. He had drawn many portraits of Liu Jingjing and posted missing person notices in every street and alley. He believed that if Liu Jingjing saw them, she would surely come back to find him.
Now that he had found her, no matter the dangers or the state of the world, he would follow her, never leaving her side.
Amidst the rising fireworks, a girl lost among the throngs of students stood out with her kind eyes and gentle demeanor, dressed in a plum blossom qipao, resembling a solitary wild goose flying south.
"Jingjing, don't be afraid. I'm here with you."
The Japanese forces had once been arrogant and overbearing.
In the wake of the student uprising, many had perished. Liu Jingjing had fled to the center of Beiping City with a group of students, a place that had once been peaceful but now lay in ruins.
Having evaded the gunfire of the Japanese soldiers, she paused in an alley, her steps unsteady as she leaned against the wall.
As she gazed at the desolate city center, two streams of cold tears slid down her cheeks.
Her once fair face, after enduring so much turmoil, was now tainted by the grime and dust of despair.
In this moment, that person probably wouldn't recognize her anymore.
With a loud "bang," before Liu Jingjing could regain her senses, the reporter from the newspaper who had been holding a camera lay in a pool of blood. The camera rolled away from his hand, and the young journalist struggled to reach for it, but blood poured from his mouth in heavy gulps.
Liu Jingjing witnessed this scene and rushed over, quickly picking up the camera from the ground and handing it to the young reporter.
He shook his head, a smile breaking through his pain as he gasped for breath. "Make sure to document this..." he said slowly, each word heavy with effort.
Before Liu Jingjing could respond, the young reporter's eyes closed.
His blood-stained lips were strikingly vivid. Kneeling before him, Liu Jingjing held the camera tightly, gritting her teeth, her eyes filled with anger and sorrow.
With the camera slung over her shoulder, she fled, her steps hurried.
Unknowingly, she found herself back in the same place, where the Beiping Girls' School had been reduced to ruins from the bombing.
The remnants of Pineapple Garden and the quiet Guomin Street still held some civilians and injured soldiers.
Liu Jingjing captured these scenes one by one with her camera. She raised it, her gaze focused and determined. She thought that as long as she was alive, she would be able to share these photographs with the world, ensuring that the hatred for the loss of their country would endure among future generations.
Since she had impulsively left her sister and Fang Lansheng some time ago, Liu Jingjing had been following the students in their uprising, wandering from place to place. Returning to Guomin Street brought back memories of the past, filling her with a sense of desolation and a hint of melancholy in her eyes.
On the smoke-filled streets, civilians fled with their meager belongings. Suddenly, she remembered the shop where Fang Lansheng had taken her to buy a qipao, glancing down at her own filthy clothes.
Her footsteps slowly moved toward that shop, hesitating with each step.
She wondered if, when they met again, he would embrace her with blood and flesh from their reunion.
Perhaps, there were already other women’s features in his eyes.
The cheongsam shop had its doors wide open, but the owner was nowhere to be found. Liu Jingjing mimicked Fang Lansheng's demeanor as she passed by the vibrant array of cheongsams.
Eventually, her gaze landed excitedly on a striking red dress. It was almost identical to the one Liu Momo wore. With joy, she took it down and quickly slipped it on, a long-lost smile appearing on her face.
It turned out that Fang Lansheng had a good eye; the dress fit perfectly and looked beautiful. For some reason, seeing something familiar made Liu Jingjing feel as if Fang Lansheng was right beside her, filling her heart with warmth.
As she walked out from the end of Guomin Street, Liu Jingjing once again heard the resounding voices of the people. This time, it was the citizens waving their national flags in rebellion, denouncing the Japanese forces.
Without a second thought, she raised her camera to her chest.
She snapped away at the crowd, and suddenly, two familiar figures jumped into her line of sight.
In an instant, her chest trembled violently, and the heavy tears that had gathered in her eyes could no longer be held back. A gust of wind carrying the scent of gunpowder swept past her, causing the tears to fall as if they had a mind of their own.
She saw a frail-looking girl standing next to the man named Fang Lansheng, dressed in a student uniform.
A blue top, a black skirt, white cotton socks, and cloth shoes, along with short hair that framed her face—just like she used to be.
Gunshots rang out, and the man called Fang Lansheng wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her protectively as if everything in the world had turned to dust in his eyes.
She pressed her hand against her chest, suddenly recalling the day they first met when he had gently pulled her into his trench coat...
Lost in memories of the past, she forgot about the raging war behind her, her gaze vacant and bewildered.
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