By the time Chen Zikun opened the door, he was already gone.
There was a mimeographed notice posted on the door of No. 17 Hubu Street.
The name was filled in by hand.
It can be seen that Chen Zikun will not be the only one participating in tomorrow's criticism meeting.
"Dad, you must not go."
Chen Jiao was frightened.
Chen Zikun smiled lightly: "Go, I must go, I want to see how capable these grandsons are."
The next morning, the gymnasium in the provincial capital was crowded with people.
Red Guard organizations from various schools and units gathered together to hold an inspiring rally of 10,000 people criticizing the movement.
The gymnasium was already full, and a group of old people stood on the stage, with an average age of over sixty-five.
Each of them had a heavy iron sign hanging around their neck and a tall paper hat on their head, as if they were running out of the Temple of Hell.
There are old ghosts, and behind them stands the majestic young Red Guard generals, with arms akimbo and angry eyes.
Slogans and slogans were posted all over the venue, and a portrait of Chairman Mao hung high above the rostrum.
Thousands of people sang revolutionary songs together, and the atmosphere was very lively.
Amid the song of the helmsman sailing on the sea, a group of female Red Guards walked up in a neat line, wearing green military uniforms, red armbands, and red books, with thin armed belts tied on their waists, black cloth shoes, walking in goose, and small faces.
The crowd was full of piety and solemnity.
As they walked in goose-step, they shouted slogans: "Revolution is not guilty, rebellion is justified."
The footsteps made the floor sound.
The song slowly stopped, and the eyes of everyone in the audience were focused on these heroic female Red Guards.
A boy wearing highly myopic glasses held an accordion and played in the corner of the stage.
On the Jinshan Mountain in Beijing, the female Red Guards The Zhongzi dance was performed to the sound of music.
The Zhongzi dance is simple and easy to learn, and the movements imitate mechanical movements.
Anyone who knows how to do radio exercises can do it.
Sometimes the female students raise their hands to express their love for the great leader, sometimes they stand up in a lunge to show that they will always follow the great teacher, and sometimes they point their fingers angrily at the ground to show that they are completely smashed.
The rotten bourgeois reactionaries sometimes clenched their fists to show that they would carry out the revolution to the end.
Finally, the female Red Guards ended their dance in classic styles, followed by a handsome boy who jumped out holding a red flag, waving the big flag and making a loud noise.
His movements were extremely free and unrestrained, full of proletarian pride and ambition.
The girls' eyes were all shining, because this boy was none other than Chen Zhong, the number one Red Guard in the provincial capital and the commander of the Red General Division.
After Shuangxi was shot, brother Chen Zhong entered an orphanage.
The organization arranged for Chen Zhong to tour the country many times to give lectures.
He was used to seeing big scenes and learned a lot.
Later, the publicity intensity was reduced, and he was of no use.
His academic performance fell again, and he was about to fail to get into college.
An opportunity suddenly came, and the unprecedented Cultural Revolution began.
Compared to other students, Chen Zhong has a keener sense of political events.
He is not the first person in Jiangdong to form a Red Guard organization, but he is the most successful one.
After integration, dozens of Red Guards in the provincial capital have The guard combat teams formed an alliance, and Chen Zhong served as the commander of the Red General Division, and even the college students had to obey his orders.
Chen Zhong is as tall as his father, at 1.75 meters.
Others don't have enough to eat during adolescence to grow taller, but because of his status as a little hero, he is well-fed and strong.
He is a sports student in school and can run sprints.
Zhou Zheng is an expert in the long jump and shot put.
He has a handsome appearance and an aura of righteousness and annihilation of relatives.
Many girls who are just starting to fall in love have a crush on him.
He is definitely a man of the hour in the school.
As the red flag dance came on, Chen Zhong's face was not red, his heart was not beating, and he was out of breath.
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He went backstage and threw the red flag to his comrades.
He took the tea jar handed over by his assistant Wang Xiaofei and took a big sip of cold boiled water.
Wang Xiaofei, the former high-ranking squadron leader, is now Chen Zhong's revolutionary follower.
He praised: "The commander-in-chief personally came to the stage to warm up the scene.
The effect was surprisingly good and the emotions of the revolutionary masses were aroused.
Many soldiers' slaps turned red." ” Chen Zhong said calmly: "Xiao Fei, have you gathered all the targets for criticism?"
Wang Xiaofei said: "There is still one left."
Chen Zhong frowned: "Who is so arrogant?
How dare you not come."
"Chen Zikun."
"It's him, the number one reactionary."
Chen Zhong sneered.
"Commander-in-Chief, why don't we start first?"
Wang Xiaofei suggested.
"No, this criticism meeting must not be without Chen Zikun, otherwise it will be completely meaningless.
Others will say that we only swat flies but not tigers."
Chen Zhong insisted.
"Okay, I'll send someone to pick him up."
"No, I'll go there in person, and you can sit in command and let the band play a few more revolutionary songs."
Suddenly, Wang Xiaofei's eyes widened and he pointed to the entrance of the gymnasium and said, "He's here."
Chen Zikun walked into the gymnasium.
He walked very firmly and steadily.
The sixty-seven-year-old man's waist was already as straight as a javelin.
His demeanor of looking down on the world was not as if he was on a stage for criticism, but as if he was giving a speech at a university.
Today, there are young students inside and outside the gymnasium.
This scene is somewhat similar to when Chen Zikun gave a speech at Jiangdong University after the March 18th massacre forty years ago.
The difference is that back then, he was a high-spirited young military governor with thousands of tigers standing behind him.
Now he is an old man, unarmed and with no one behind him.
As Chen Zikun entered the venue, the noisy gymnasium slowly quieted down, and thousands of pairs of eyes followed his steps.
This old man who had retired for many years still showed his might.
Chen Zikun came to the stage and slowly looked at the surrounding arrangements.
The stadium was filled with red slogans more than ten meters long.
This formation was similar to that of the 1936 Berlin Olympics.
Slogans, slogans, and totems can all make young people secrete adrenaline.
An excellent promotional tool.
Eight high-wattage iodine-tungsten lamps shone from all directions.
The stage was completely bright.
The targets of criticism were already in place.
Because the establishment was protected by the military, the Red Headquarters only captured some historical counterrevolutionaries and rightists.
The people on the stage were They are all old acquaintances of Chen Zikun.
Yan Su, Chen Shou, Gai Longquan, Wang Sanliu, Zeng Jiao, Lin Wenlong, and some of the staff who followed him back then.
These people, who once stomped their feet and shook Jiangdong three times, have become prisoners today, sweating profusely and trembling under the spotlight, because of fear, pain, and because the iron plate around their necks is too heavy.
None of them even dared to look up at Chen Zikun.
"Who is your leader?"
Chen Zikun asked.
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Chen Zhong appeared on the stage with two of his subordinates.
He was wearing a washed white military uniform, an armed belt around his waist, and a military coat on his shoulders.
He was extremely majestic and looked down at Chen Zikun.
This face was too familiar to Chen Zikun.
Chen Zhong looked like the seventeen-year-old Shuangxi, who was cast from the same mold.
Back then, Shuangxi was a young bandit in Kushuijingganzi, but his life was saved by the young Jiangbei Guardsman.
From then on, he was on horseback.
Loyal for decades.
Chen Zhong was very angry because his limelight was robbed by Chen Zikun.
He shouted: "Chen Zikun, you still haven't confessed to the people."
Did this roar bring Chen Zikun back to reality from his memory?
The young man on the stage was not Shuangxi, but his ruthless son Chen Zhong.
Chen Zikun raised his head slightly, looked at this young man who could be his grandson, and said: "You are seventeen this year, right?
You were only this big when you were born, and you had yellow hair.
I was the one who gave you your name." , so that you can be loyal to the nation and the country.”
"Shut up and stop trying to get close to our Commander-in-Chief Chen," Wang Xiaofei pointed at Chen Zikun's nose and shouted.
Chen Zikun laughed dumbly and said: "Commander Chen, who is Chen Zhong?
Have you ever fired a gun or killed someone?
Have you led a few soldiers and fought a few battles?
Are you hairy?
You dare to call yourself commander-in-chief?"
His tone was very calm at first, then became more and more severe, almost angrily.
Chen Zhong's face turned blue and white.
He felt that although he was standing taller, he was still much shorter than Chen Zikun in the audience.
He shouted angrily: "Chen Zikun, don't rely on your old age to show off.
The older you get, the more reactionary you become, and the older you get, the more cunning you become.
Someone, bring him up.”
Two Red Guards jumped down to grab Chen Zikun's arm.
The seventeen or eighteen-year-old boy suffered from natural disasters during his adolescence and was unable to eat enough.
His development was very poor.
He was as thin as a bean sprout.
He was less than 1.7 meters tall and stood tall.
Behind Chen Zikun, he stood like a stern dog next to a lion.
Chen Zikun said: "No need to hold him, I will leave on my own."
After saying that, he went straight to the stage, stood at the front, and glanced at the old subordinates one by one.
These old men in their dying years avoided his gaze and did not dare to look at each other.
A Red Guard took an iron sign that had been prepared and wrote "Historical counter-revolutionary, speculator, warlord leader" in black paint and a cross in red paint.
Chen Zikun looked at it contemptuously and said, "I'm old and can't hang up the iron sign anymore."
The fifteen or sixteen-year-old boy looked very funny in an oversized military uniform, but the expression on his face was extremely serious.
He shouted in the voice of a boy who was still in the stage of changing his voice: "Hang up if you want."
Hanging up is the current counter-revolution.”
Chen Zikun said: "Whether I am guilty or not will be decided by the organization and the court.
What kind of organization are you?
This is called abusive lynching."
The young man said: "Let me tell you, we are good soldiers of Chairman Mao.
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I am telling you from the Red Bureau to hang up the sign immediately, otherwise you will be responsible for all the consequences."
Chen Zikun still wanted to tease him, but suddenly Chen Shou beside him whispered: "Hang up, it's already over."
The old subordinates all have iron cards and are suffering.
The longer Chen Zikun delays, the more suffering they will suffer.
It is better to end the criticism as soon as possible so that these children can have fun and go home to eat and rest.
Helpless, Chen Zikun had no choice but to hang up the iron sign himself.
The sign was very heavy and hung around his neck with an iron wire.
If he hadn't been wearing a thick cotton-padded jacket in winter, it would have strangled his neck to bleed.
With the sign hanging, his head would involuntarily shake. down He was hanging down, but Chen Zikun still stood upright.
He was already tall, and he stood out among a group of people who lowered their heads and confessed their crimes.
He did not look like a historical counterrevolutionary who was criticized, but like an indomitable revolutionary pioneer in the reactionary court.
A girl with braids walked up to the stage, her sleeves rolled up, revealing her white and slender arms.
She knocked on the microphone, and there was a whistling electromagnetic sound.
The girl adjusted the distance, said "Hello" twice, and then spoke in a straight tone. : "Comrades, comrades, the denunciation meeting of tens of thousands of people begins now."
Chen Zikun recognized that this girl was Yan Su's granddaughter Yan Xiaodong
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