【Lou Cheng】 How easy is another day

Mingtai is in the period of changing his voice, and his voice will break when he is excited, no matter how he listens, it will be strange.Mingcheng didn't interrupt him, and let him yell at Minglou with a smile, then yelled at himself, then patted him on the back and motioned him to come down: "Stinky boy, come down soon. Think you're still five years old. "

Mingtai smiled, let go of his hands and feet and stood up, but he hadn't seen Mingcheng for so long, he was surprised and happy when they met again for the first time, the drowsiness and fatigue had long since disappeared, and he just kept asking him: "Ah Brother Cheng, when did you arrive? If I knew you were going to be on vacation, my elder brother can take a short detour and pick you up before coming to Vienna. I want to visit you for Christmas, but my elder brother won’t let me..." Mingtai said. Feeling a little aggrieved, and feeling so unmanly in front of Mingcheng, he stopped and didn't say any more.

Mingcheng's training at Frunze was a well-arranged secret.Apart from the Comintern’s French agent who participated in the matchmaking and production of relevant identity documents, and the school as the recipient, the only insider was Minglou, who was his direct superior and single-line contact.What other people know is that Mingcheng, as an undergraduate student in the Engineering Department of Sorbonne University, went to Germany for a year of exchange.

After hearing what he said, Mingcheng didn't explain, and rubbed his hair with a smile: "Didn't you see this? No one has cared about you for the past six months. Have you read the book well?"

"Of course!"

Minglou, who had been silent all this time, smiled coldly at this moment: "Nonsense. Don't feel ashamed."

"Where are you talking nonsense! I ranked first in mathematics, philosophy, and literature." Mingtai retorted unconvinced.

"What about Latin?"

"This door doesn't count."

"Why is it not counted? You can count on this matter, right?"

"This language is dead, cold and meaningless. Hey brother, I think Polish is very interesting, or should I learn this instead?"

Ming Cheng was wondering where Master Qi got the idea and thought of learning Polish.Unexpectedly, Minglou was not surprised after listening, and nodded: "Okay. If you want to learn, learn."

He agreed so simply that Mingtai was taken aback: "Uh...really?"

"Young master loves to study, so we must support it to the end." Ming Lou paused, and then added, "Polish is what you want to learn, and Latin is what you want to learn in school, so learn both. Supplementary reference."

Mingtai was dumbfounded all of a sudden: "...Brother!"

He called out and remembered that the savior had returned, so he quickly wrinkled his face and looked at Mingcheng bitterly: "Brother Ah Cheng, you know, the homework is so heavy..."

Mingcheng tried his best to hold back his laughter, and was about to say a few words to encourage Mingtai to learn a new language well—although Latin and Polish are not in the same language family, and there is nothing to supplement and learn from—but then Minglou spoke again : "Okay, now that you've woken up, change your clothes. Go to the Opera House with us in the evening."

"Can I not learn Latin when I go?"

"No."

"Then why should I go?" Mingtai looked away angrily.

Minglou smiled slightly: "Because if you don't go when you wake up, I will tell my eldest sister, first, you never passed Latin, and second, you want to learn Polish because of your beautiful female deskmate."

The spoiled young master was suddenly dumbfounded, and could only stare and complain viciously: "Letyran! 3"

At that time, Minglou had already opened the door and was about to go back to the room to change clothes. When he heard this sentence, he stopped again and asked him back, "How do you say this word in Latin?"

"..."

"It doesn't matter if you don't know now. When the time comes, copy Cicero's "On the Republic" ten times, and you will know it naturally. Pack yourself up, and we will knock on the door in half an hour."

Once Mingtai's protest was blocked by the door, Mingcheng laughed out loud.He smiled, and Minglou laughed too, shaking his head while laughing: "See? There's no law."

"That's Wuzhishan that can't escape you." Mingcheng laughed enough, looked down at his watch, "I didn't know you arranged this tonight. I have to find a way to rent a dress. I'll go to the front desk and ask."

"No need." Minglou stopped him, "I brought it for you."

Mingcheng was exhausted all the way, and the first thing he did after entering the room was to take a shower.After entering the military academy, he developed the habit of resolving battles quickly, and within a few minutes he came out again wrapped in a bathrobe.At this time, Minglou had already changed his shirt and was tying his bow tie in front of the mirror.He nodded slightly at Mingcheng in the mirror: "Your suit is hanging in the closet. Dry your hair first, or you will get migraines when you get old."

This is what Der Spiegel used to say all the time.After the three brothers went abroad, the one who chanted this sentence became the eldest brother.Hearing this, Mingcheng obediently brushed his hair again, and found the evening dress in the closet—no matter where it was, Minglou always packed his luggage in an orderly manner, without any slack.

Mingcheng fastened his buttons and said softly: "In Moscow, almost no one wears this. Even if they go to the theater, no one wears it. They say it's too... bourgeois." The last few words were spoken so quickly that they were almost blurred.

Minglou smiled silently: "If you can decide who is a real Bolshevik by clothes, it would be too easy."

Mingcheng didn't answer, and struggled with the buttons of his shirt.Minglou looked at his back, and said after a while, "I've lost a lot of weight. The shirt doesn't fit well."

"It doesn't matter. It's only going to be worn for a while anyway. Just deal with it."

They have yet to formally discuss Mingcheng's life in Moscow.But Minglou has already noticed the change in him: he knows exactly how much a gun can change a person, not to mention living in a completely new doctrine.

Minglou was not surprised by Mingcheng's change, after all, he was also someone who had experienced it.Since I can constantly choose and change, so should Mingcheng, or in other words, it must be so.Thinking of this, he decided not to think about it for the time being, and went to Mingcheng's side to find cufflinks for him.

What he brought was a gift from Mingjing when Mingcheng was an adult.Although it was a special gift for Mingcheng, the eldest sister still matched the three of them with a pair, the details were slightly different, and their initials were engraved on the back of the cuffs.When Minglou handed over the cuffs, Mingcheng was stunned for a moment, and then smiled: "Brother, I don't want to wear this pair unless it's an important occasion."

"Stupid. Hand here."

There are thousands of things that Mingcheng is good at, but the trivial thing of wearing cuff buttons has always been clumsy.Minglou guessed that this might have something to do with him being a natural left-hander but being beaten into a right-hander by Aunt Gui, and he never forced him.As long as I saw it, I would buckle it for him. Later, Mingtai also noticed this, and sometimes he would help.

Today is no exception.Mingcheng stood one arm away, stretched out his hands, and waited for Minglou to put the cufflinks on for him.

The knuckles of the young man's hands have undergone slight changes due to holding guns.Minglou knew that as he got used to all kinds of guns day by day, the knuckles of the hands in front of him would become more and more distinct.His fingers will become more dexterous and powerful, and his hands will become as stable as mountains, but the strange thing is that, even though his hands have begun to change, his wrist bones seem to be more slender. The wind is normal.

Of course Minglou knew that this was an illusion, and it was a very good illusion - the best shooter often makes people think that he can hold a gun.

He lowered his head and smiled, and quickly put on the cufflinks for Mingcheng. During the movement, his fingers accidentally rubbed against each other's skin. The dry and cool touch made both of them pause for a moment.

In the end, Ming Lou withdrew his hand as if nothing had happened, and said, "Okay, tie the tie yourself."

Mingcheng laughed, "Brother, please do your best to the end, and let's do it for you."

Seeing him smiling happily, Minglou sighed in a fake way, and of course he did.

After both of them finished packing, there were seven or eight minutes left before the agreed half hour.They all thought that there would be someone in charge at Mingtai, but they didn't expect that when they opened the door, they saw the young master tidying himself up neatly, facing the surprised eyes of his brothers, he could not help but smile complacently: "Brother, Brother Acheng, You're dawdling to death. I've already packed it up."