Cannon Fodder Is King

Arc 2.1

Arc 2: OLD GHOST TOP [PS: Actually, the google translation says "Ghostly old attack," but I took the liberty to fix the meaning, even though I'm not actually sure if the syntax is correct. The results may vary depends on how the author wrote the title. I'm not proficient in manual translating either because I'm not fluent in Chinese, but I will do my best to fix some syntax errors.(For the titles only.)]

Meng Zezhi has been in this world for sixty years.

His body has been as strong as a day for ten years, and he has maintained the frequency of publishing a high-quality paper every year at the age of eighty. On the contrary, Zhu Zhengqing, who was one round younger than him, became worse every day after his 70-year-old birthday. Serious illnesses did not come, but minor illnesses continued.

The day he left happened to be snowing heavily. In the morning, he suddenly became energetic, drank a bowl of millet porridge for an unprecedented time, and said that he wanted to go out to watch the snow.

Meng Zezhi vaguely guessed something in his heart. He called in doctors, put the person in a wheelchair and sat down, and then pushed to the small garden.

"It's beautiful." Zhu Zhengqing raised his head, and the light snow fell on his eyebrows.

Meng Zezhi stretched out his hand to trim his hat and scarf for him, and then he held both hands. He looked at the sparse white hair on Meng Zezhi's head, with gentle brows: "Is this count as old together?"

Meng Zezhi breathed slightly, and without waiting for him to speak, Zhu Zhengqing said again: "Can you hug me again?"

"Good." Meng Zezhi said slowly, standing up and holding Zhu Zhengqing in his arms.

"that's nice."

Sniffing the smell of Meng Zezhi's body, Zhu Zhengqing said weakly: "If a person can really reincarnate, it would be great, the next life, the next life...I want to be with you."

"Okay!" Meng Zezhi replied, "When the time comes, I will go to you. Don't disagree with me."

Hearing this, Zhu Zhengqing closed his eyes contentedly, with a peaceful expression on his face.

Meng Zezhi felt a choking in his throat, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. He looked more than ten years old.

Zhu Zhengqing’s funeral was handled by Meng Zezhi alone. Zhu Zhengqing’s reputation was there, and there were an endless stream of people who came to mourn him. There were no fewer than thirty disciples and grandchildren who just threw him.

When Zhu Zhengqing's body was pushed into the corpse refining furnace, the head of the crematorium came and asked: "Professor Meng, the list says that you have asked for two urns. Are you going to divide Professor Zhu's ashes into two?"

"No," Meng Zezhi leaned on crutches and looked back. The medical staff beside him saw him and quickly stepped forward to help him sit on the chair behind him.

He said: "The other one is prepared for myself. Then you will bury me and him in a tomb. This is called the same burial for life, and the same cave for death..."

The field director couldn't help but sighed: "You and Professor Zhu have a very good relationship."

After speaking, he looked up, and the person in the chair closed his eyes tightly, and he had lost his breath.

On the day of Meng Zezhi's funeral, the United Nations Headquarters lowered the flag at half mast, and the President of the Security Council delivered a eulogy and sent a telegram of condolences to his passing.

Throughout October, the activities of commemorating Meng Zezhi and Zhu Zhengqing did not stop.

[Professor Meng’s life is a legend——