This separation could mean another ten years, or perhaps they will never meet again in this lifetime. When the sweltering July summer came, Zhang Guoqing not only bid farewell to his companions who either joined the army or went to the countryside, but also to the young 16 or 17-year-olds whom he regarded like younger siblings.
Each time he accompanied them to the train station, he would see the young people dressed in blue, green, or gray under the sun. Despite their dull yellowish and tired faces, they were filled with hope for life.
In contrast to them were the parents in the farewell crowd, some helping to carry big bags of luggage, others holding just a single burlap sack containing bedding.
Some mothers brushed away tears, chattering with earnest instructions, and some fathers had red-rimmed eyes, watching their children intently with tears in their eyes.
Of course, there were also those who set off alone, and those who left without looking back.
Having seen this often, Zhang Guoqing could not help but feel waves of emotion. To many, these young people may seem naive and silly, but he was full of admiration and envy.
He admired their passionate enthusiasm and envied that they were moved by ideals and dared to give everything for them.
He, however, no longer felt connected to this era or resonated with it. Even though they experienced moments of disappointment and confusion, speaking of defending the nation would instantly ignite a self-sacrificing brilliance that left him ashamed. Although born under the red flag, there was still a difference.
In April, when the sky became bright and fresh, Zhou Jiao also came to witness this historical scene, capturing moment after moment with her camera...
At this moment, these images were worth commemorating for future generations.
It was no surprise that Jin Lijuan’s second daughter, whom she had never met, quietly appeared in her lens.
She hadn’t specifically searched for this family.
Instead, it was this girl dressed in a well-fitting military uniform, with a matching green military canteen, a slanted military bag, Jiefang shoes, and a hat with a red five-pointed star sewn on it.
Oh, and the tan belt tied around her waist.
This attire, no less, still stood out in the crowd, looking impressive and attracting attention. After all, not every sent-down youth among thousands had such an outfit configuration.
However, it must have cost Jin Lijuan and her husband considerable effort and connections.
The sky in Beijing was still very blue, the air still fresh, and the streets weren’t yet filled with tall buildings typical in later generations, and there weren’t as many buildings and vehicles.
On the street, loudspeakers on the lamp posts were playing stirring and passionate songs everywhere. Trains carrying youths with red flowers on their chests departed, leaving behind heartbroken family members...
Days passed slowly and steadily, and with the departure of these young people, situations on the streets became significantly calmer, and the street fights with bloody results reduced.
Similarly, Jin Lijuan began to frequently exchange tickets with colleagues, her knitted brows never relaxing. The outgoing big sister started evolving into a Lin Daiyu.
Having seen and heard so much, Zhou Jiao didn’t dare ask for details, fearing to hear news of women being insulted or even worse, fatalities.
Ever since the slogan "Prepare for war, prepare for famine, serve the people" emerged, her father became increasingly busy, constantly traveling or attending meetings.
At the year’s end, Zhou Jiao, holding a portion of collected data, approached her father. She thought she couldn’t change the overall trend, but there was still something she could do for all the women in the world.
"What’s this?" Zhou Xiaozheng looked at his daughter in the study with confusion.
"Hehe, take a look first."
After a while, having finished reading, Zhou Xiaozheng contemplated for a long time, and looked at his daughter without speaking.


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