The old man's name is Rao Ru Ping. After his wife Mao Meitang died of illness nine years ago, he woke up and fell asleep after a long period of sadness. Later, having never studied painting, he decided to pick up a brush, learn from his favorite Feng Zikai, and hand-painted hundreds of paintings. With the sweetness and ordinary life of love, he described them from first meeting to being together, and then to life and death for more than 70 years, and named it Our Story.
Perhaps, a steady stream of water and firm companionship is the longest confession in the world. The year I met Mei Tang, Rao was 26 years old and graduated from Whampoa Military Academy. He was in the 2nd platoon of mortar company of the 63rd Division of the 100 Army 188 Regiment, fighting in the periphery of Xuefeng Mountain in western Hunan, and almost lost his life.
Ru Ping, a teenager in troubled times, plans to have a bright future in his journey. Unconsciously, Ru Ping realized that the burden on her shoulders was heavier, about the country, about the war, about the army and about her home.
Ru Ping likes a photo of Mei Tang best, which shows a girl's bright eyes, curly hair, pointed face and slightly curved eyebrows under pomegranate flowers. She enlarged it and posted it on the wall of the military camp, and distributed the photos to her comrades. Ru Ping admits that "there is still some pride."
It's really a story that moved me to tears. It is a happy thing to grow old with others, but in the end, I walked first. At least someone still misses me.