Feng Qingxue's attention was quickly attracted by the child in his arms.

It was a boy who looked to be only about two years old, with a large head and a small body, a yellow face and thin muscles, as if he had just come out of the mud and rolled and crawled out, and his appearance could be compared to the wind and clouds when the wind and snow had just crossed.

Another child who is desperately hungry in extreme poverty.

The old man looked at the room full of young and old, and said embarrassedly: "My name is Song Laozhuo." ”

"Uncle Song, do you have anything to do with me?" After Feng Qingxue asked, he hurriedly said, "You can sit down first, and you can speak slowly if you have something to say." ”

Lu Tianjun hurriedly got up and pulled the chair under his butt to Song Laoshuan.

Song Laozhuan sat down with his hands tied, his eyes didn't dare to fall on the table, he snorted twice, and said, "I came to find Comrade Feng Qingxue, are you Comrade Feng Qingxue who sent money and food stamps to Song Dazhu's family in our production brigade?" ”

"Song Dazhu?" Feng Qingxue was puzzled, and quickly remembered who Song Dazhu was.

He was a martyr, a soldier who died on the southwestern border.

When Lu Jiang went home to recuperate, he sent money and tickets to his family, which was not much, ten yuan, not many tickets, and ten catties of food stamps.

Later, Lu Jiang returned to the army, and Feng Qingxue continued to send it to the address he left, once a month.

After Song Dazhu died, the state gave a certain amount of pension to his family, and would also order the local people to take care of his family, she and Lu Jiang were just doing more, but they still did their part.

However, she never expected that Song Dazhu's family would find her.

Song Laozhu's surname is Song, which is obviously related to Song Dazhu.

Thinking of this, Feng Qingxue said directly: "I am Feng Qingxue, and I did send money and tickets to Song Dazhu's family a few months ago. Uncle Song, do you have anything to do with me? ”

Song Lao shuo didn't make a sound for a long time, and finally sent the child in his arms to the wind and snow.

Feng Qingxue looked at the child's innocent eyes, "What do you mean by that?" ”

"I'll tell you the truth!" Song Laozhuan gritted his teeth and stomped his feet, "This baby is the son of Song Dazhu, four years old this year, and he doesn't have a serious name, just a nickname, called Jarzi." His grandmother starved to death the year before last, and then received the news of his father's death, and his grandfather did not come up in one breath and followed. Relying on his father's pension, and the money and food stamps you sent, his mother could have survived by guarding him, and our production brigade received an order from above to give his mother rations according to the standard of strong labor. Who knew that his mother had a serious illness in the autumn and was not cured, and she swallowed her breath not long after the winter. Our production brigade is poor, a strong laborer has a ration of 200 catties a year, and when the farm is slack, most of them have to go out to escape the famine and ask for food, and no one can afford to raise a jar, and they are not willing to adopt him. ”

Feng Qingxue frowned slightly, "So you sent him to me?" ”

Song Laoxuan's face turned red, "I can't help it, I can't watch him starve to death, right?" Many people are staring at the money and tickets you send, but none of the people who adopted him have not. I have seven sons and three daughters, four of whom starved to death, and I can't even support my own family, how dare I add another mouth to my family. If this continues, the child will have only a dead end. I thought about it and thought about it, so I discussed it with the secretary of our production team, only you send money and tickets on time every month, and you are the only one who sends money and tickets to the cylinder family, it must be a good person, I will bring the cylinder to you, please find a way for the cylinder. ”