The more Song Lao Shui spoke, the more embarrassed he felt, and his head hung down.

People are poor and short-minded, but they have to be like this.

Song Dazhu is a martyr, the state issued an honorary title, and was buried in the martyr's cemetery, so that the only son of the martyr starved to death, who could bear it? Who can afford their production brigade and their Song clan? If there were no famine in the past few years, the entire production brigade would have been able to feed him with a mouthful, but who is willing to give up that bite of food now? The rice in the pot is all by the grain.

"There is an uncle in the jar, uncle, after the death of the cylinder mother, the money and tickets you sent were asked to be received by them, and they got it this month. They went to the city to change food, but before their own daughter starved to death, they refused to grab a handful of rice and boil it to save his daughter's life! When I found the jar, the jar was dying of hunger. There is no way, after I discussed with the branch secretary, I told his family to find a good family for the jar, and after their consent, I took the jar out, and I didn't tell them to come to you, because I was afraid that they would come to you later, because you left the address in the letter, and told the jar's family that they would come to you if they were in trouble. ”

Song Laozhuan said as he put down the jar, untied the deflated burden on his back, opened it and took out a few letters and all the relics of Song Dazhu, including the Medal of Honor, and handed them to Feng Qingxue.

The letter was indeed written by himself and Lu Jiang, and the handwriting was clear at a glance.

If you have difficulties, you come to find yourself or something, but she didn't write it, she didn't promise the families of the martyrs, it should have been written before Lu Jiang returned to the army, and she didn't check what Lu Jiang wrote at that time.

They have their comradeship, and it makes sense to write such content.

However, in the face of Song Laozhuo's Tuogu, she was not mentally prepared after the wind and snow, looking at Gangzi's innocent and pure eyes, she didn't know what to say, thinking about it, she always felt that it was not appropriate to say anything.

At this moment, she heard Song Lao's stomach grunting, and Gangzi's eyes also turned to the table.

There are still dumplings in the bowl that have been cold before they are finished.

Song Laozhuan's old face immediately turned red, and he said embarrassedly: "Actually, I'm not hungry, I'm thirsty." I brought a nest head, the branch secretary and my wife finally made it up, I have to eat on the way home, and I have eaten one every day for the past few days. ”

Feng Qingxue sighed, poured him a bowl of hot water, and asked Lu Tianjun to make dumplings for Song Lao.

There were several curtains of dumplings wrapped before, and the remaining two curtains were not cooked.

Lu's father suddenly said: "Boil some porridge for the child to nourish the stomach." ”

Lu Tianjun responded and worked with Guan Cheng.

Song Laozhuan sat on his lap with the jar in his arms, and waved his empty hand towards the wind and snow, "Don't, don't, it's not easy to eat dumplings on the winter solstice, and I still have a nest head with me!" It's a matter of the jar......"

"You eat first, and then you'll talk about it when you're done."

Listening to the words of the wind and snow, Song Laozhuan waved his hand again, "The matter of the jar has not been settled, and I am not sure to eat meat." ”

Feng Qingxue listened and looked at Father Lu, and it happened that Father Lu also looked at her, and the two looked at each other, both of them smiled bitterly.

Theoretically, they should adopt Gangzi, and it's not that they can't afford it.

Song Dazhu has a bloody heart, sacrifices for the country, sacrifices for the people, his parents and wife are dead, and the only child should not starve to death in this era of natural disasters, so that this hero has no future in this life.