Blood
Blood.
Singing
Not all people have such a terrible life.
Lumpy raised his son for thirty-three years, and it was someone else’s.
Thanks to those who bled their sons, to God for their eyes, to doctors, to medicine, and to son Blanche.
On the night of the 11th of the month, Rambowang was stabbed. He’s cheating on the table. He’s under arrest. Angry gamblers came up and punched and kicked Blue Bing. Unknown in the chaos, a knife was stabbed in Blue Blanche, one of which broke the artery and sprayed blood like a bursting pipe. All the wounded escaped, and the owner of the casino was scared and rushed and his family to take Rambowan to the county hospital. The car turned a little bit, passing through the Lamberwan family, pulling Bluebian’s father, who had been notified by telephone, and his mother, Wei Xiaoxiang.
The father, Blue Boven, looked at his half-dead son in the car, like a pig killed by his own hands, pulled out a box of cigarettes, pulled a spot out of his mouth and stuffed it into his mouth, like a painkiller or a caregiver. The son took a sip, spit out the smoke and carry a severe cough. Blood surged even more on the legs, with seven or eight laps of straps permeating, drops of blood falling from the legs like goat shit, spilling on the seat and under, so big a bloodbath, and killing pigs like a hand. Mother Wei Xiaoxiang cried as soon as she got in the car and screamed more than pigs. My husband’s half of Blue Boon’s ideas were ruined or attracted by his wife, and he couldn’t help but say, “Look at your rotten X-kids, what you used to do, crying, crying at you!” Wei Xiaoxiang said, “If my son is gone, you want me to have another X and you can’t have one.” And then cry.
The car, which had been used to transport gamblers, had become an ambulance, pulling the wounded for 40 kilometres and entering the county hospital. As soon as the doctor looked at the injuries, he decided to give blood. Blue warms up his sleeve and says lose me. However, the blood type did not match the injuries. Blue Bourbon is type A, but son is type B. Wei Xiaoxiang stood up and pulled up his sleeve and said I was his mother. But a blood test is wrong. Wei Xiaoxiang is still type A. The doctor who was waiting for the surgery was surprised to see the blue warmth and the Wei-chi-chi-chi, who claimed to be the parents of the injured but had no blood ties, and might have said a word “lost” in his heart and then made eye contact with the nurse.
There’s a bunch of blood-sellers in the hallway of the hospital, one nurse calling for a B, standing up five or six, like a college student who finally has a job matching. But the nurse took only three.
His temperature, blood pressure and heart rate began to rise and were released from danger.
The father is blue, the mother is cold and stiff, as if she had fallen into a cave.
The blood type of the son is different from that of the parents.
Blue Boven left his son to ask the doctor. The doctor replied that the A-A parents did not have B-type children, as if one plus one were not equal to three, and it would be wrong.
What the hell is going on?
Thirty-three years ago, the son was born in this district hospital. The son of six pounds and six pounds was taken out of the womb to the nursery and returned to his mother’s arms three days later. Did you get it wrong?
Wei Xiaoxiang remembered that when the nurse brought the child with the cart, the child cried and refused to eat her milk. One of the mothers in the next bed suggested “Eat and see me.” My son ate the mother’s milk and didn’t cry. It was strange for her to remember at the time, and her son had no identification bracelet. The problem must be in the hospital.
The treatment of the son quickly evolved into a trace of the son’s history. The hospital, too, was in a state of panic and was in a hurry to go to the case room to review the medical records. However, no information was available for that year.
Most of the nurses of the year have retired. The hospital brought them all to remember. A dozen old nurses with white hair say they can’t remember.
Still, there’s a reasonable one who slipped a note into the dean’s office. The note states that the neighboring mother’s name is Sue, and her husband is the director of the county mining authority.
Thirty years ago, the Director of Mine Control could have found out. But Roshma is not in the county and the family has moved to Nanning.
The hospital found Roshma in Nanning, saying that the children of the Rolands might have been mistaken and that it was hoped that both would be able to perform paternity tests. Of course the rich Roshma agrees.
As a result, neither son of his or her own age is related to his or her parents, or to his or her parents, or to his or her parents, or to his or her relatives, or to his or her identity, i.e. the son of his or her wife, Lan Bhuang, is the son of Mr. and Mrs. Rushma, and the son of Mr. and Mrs. Rushma, the real parents, are Blue Bourbon and Wei Xiaoxiang.
There was a storm and a thunderstorm.
And the blue that grew upon him knew his true life, and jumped out of his bed, and said to the adoptive parents, who were equally happy and excited: “Lambo Wei Wei, I know that my life is not a low life, and I am rich in silver, and you cannot give it to me.” I’m sorry.
He replied, “Yes, you are a repulsive son. I doubt he was born.” I’m sorry.
“I will not turn back my own parents,” he said. But I’ll miss you. I’m sorry.
And Wei’s fragrance covered with tears of joy, and said: “By then, when he arrives at Lu’s house, he shall be a good man, and don’t gamble.” I’m sorry.
“No gambling. Rich people don’t have to gamble. “Lang Bing says:
At the Roh’s house in Nanning, the atmosphere was heavy, and everyone was in pain and anguish, with their hearts slit. For the first time, the golden glorious villa felt like a cage or even hell.
Roshma and Solene looked at their sons for thirty-three years and they saw their whole body twisted and face. The son’s body is already thin and long, twisted at the moment, like a tree struck by frost. In fact, all of a sudden, the blow to my son is no more than a thunderstorm. It’s a good thing he’s still alive. Dear son, what a good son. How could you not be our son? Even though you and Mom don’t look like each other ever since they grew up, and they’ve discussed it in private, and they’ve even argued, you’re their own son. For your growth, for your happiness, Mom and Dad would give anything for you. In fact, or in the first place, the future belongs to you, and you have absolute control. But now there’s trouble and there’s a son. It’s God’s eyes and gifts. Mom and Dad have to take it. The trouble is how to balance love with you and, in the words of the word, how will the property be distributed in the future? Mom and Dad’s wish is one and a half, and the two sons have the same rights. But can you do it? Can you accept a brother who’s about to enter? Can he accept you? If you reject one another or reject one another, it is not trouble, but the beginning of the scourge. Then is the dominance of the enterprise, the same or the change of hands? And what about the parents in the country? And then…
The villa is silent enough to hear a needle drop. Rothma and Soreen have thought over and over what might happen in the future, like visionary chess players. But the more you think about it, the more you think about it.
Father Roshma said to his son, “Light, this family will always have your place. I’m sorry.
Mother Solene said: Son, don’t go. Bring your biological parents and we’ll live together. I’m sorry.
The luminous light looked at the loving foster parents and said, “It is time for me to be myself again.” I’m sorry.
Mom and Dad.
The wind and the sun, the fragrance of birds, spring is the most beautiful and comforting season of the year in the village, as it must be the brightest after the depressed woman’s desire has been met or released. Even with all kinds of distress, the men and women of the village love spring. They see the spring as a day for heaven or nature to visit and reach the young, and the mountains green and the water clear, and even uncultivated fields produce edible plants, and the flowers of joy spread through the mountains, as if they had earned an unexpected gain without labour. Everyone expects good things to happen, even if not to themselves.
A new son-in-law ceremony is under way in the Bluero family.
Blue Boon family members are moving and happy. The undistributed houses are sitting at the foot of the hill, like a warship with a long-earthed roundabout. The sun is like the deck of a ship, which is now full of feasts and crowded with glitters, and there are still people in the news. A happy and warm scene seems to celebrate the end of war, the advent of peace, the exchange of prisoners or hostages between our enemies.
The sons of the Blues, who said that they were hostages, had spent thirty-three years in a family that was not theirs, had left the arms of their biological parents from birth, lived, sharpened and grown up in an unknown land for no reason, and created different personalities and fates – – The blue family’s own son is at the Lou’s, trained as a doctorate, and has American degrees. The family’s own son, however, has fallen to the ground, dropping out of junior high school, being rude, basically a professional gambler.
But it’s almost over. The identity of the blue and radiant lights has changed, beginning with the change of name, the turn of blue and the turn of blue. At first, the two parents agreed to change their son ‘ s family name, and Blue Bing Wing to Robert Wing, and the light to Blue Lamp. In fact, the names have not changed, but the names on the logbook have remained. The name of the radiant lamp was placed on the body of the original blue radiant, and the name will be used by the radiant radiant, as if it were wearing a shoe hat, or as if it were official, the position was unchanged, the person was changed. The body has been replaced, and the parent’s name has naturally changed the object. The new lights will recognize Rosema and Solian as their fathers and mothers, while the new blues, which first arrived in the village of Upper Ridge, will have to be tolerated and accepted in the face of the 33-year-old biological father, Blue Boon, and the mother, Wei Xiaoxiang, even if it is a thousand times more desperate.
At this point, Blue Bing is standing on the land of the village of Haut-Ling, facing his biological parents and being talked and surrounded. This is his strange land and people, barren, dirty and ugly. Standing in the midst of the land and among the people, he felt like a noble tree in a city park and was planted in the forest of the mountains. This is the place where he belongs, where his parents are linked to his flesh and blood, like trees with roots, and where he is surrounded by people of the same origin, like the beasts of the same mountain. But he’s still in a bad mood. A man is beaten back into a monster and a phoenix is worse than a chicken. But what can I do now or now? The wrong happiness is far from the sky, and the bloodline parents are near.
Blue Bing fell on his knees, bowed to Blue Bourbon and Wei Xiaoxiang and called them “Dad” and “Mom”. Before the name of his son, Blue Boon and Wei Xiaoxiang had already wept with joy and tears. They also kneel their sons. And the eldest daughter who came back from afar — the sister of Blue Blanche, the four closest relatives — in a swarm, like a giant sling.
This side of Luo’s family also recognizes his mother and son in public. But it is clear that there is no big blue family in the scene or movement, first of all, that the radiant light did not kneel down for his biological parents, that he did so with his fists and looked like a small gift to society. In the view of the people of the village, this has become difficult. When he is still called Blue Brethren, the puddle is a common thing when it comes to scolding parents. How do you know or tell the manners? If your son doesn’t kneel, why should your biological parents kneel? In the past, the Rothma and Solein had taken one hand from each of their sons, the father had squeezed, the mother had touched them softly, in any event, as if he did not want to lose again.
Tears must be there, but they just don’t come out, and perhaps the tears in their eyes are covered up by the smiles on their faces.
And then there were two of them who thanked and greeted each other. The blue family is very sincere in its thanks to the family, which has raised its son so well as to be grateful. If it wasn’t for Mr. and Mrs. Roshma to stop it, they would have kneeled down. Nor is it implausible that the Roman family is grateful to the Blue House for all the years you have raised our son. Mr. and Mrs. Roshma are just missing a move from the two parents to kneel. But in the absence of this move, some of the people in the village see that the problem is that the son of the Blue House is too different from the son of the Lou family, and it’s not happy with him. But that is understandable. The environment is different, the abilities are different, the adults are different, like guacamole, and the greenhouse shed must be stronger than the open air. It’s good to survive when there’s an open wind and there’s less fat. And it’s not in Roland, it’s in the hospital. The hospital also mistakenly compensated Roland for one million each. Speaking of this compensation, there is a moving scene — the Blue House gave to the Rows the million. And the Luo family gave the money to the Blues. The blue family’s reason is that the blue family raised its sons, certainly more than a million. The point is, it’s not bad money. The two families pushed the money around like playing football. The people of the village have witnessed this game, which is not for money but for love. In the end, the Blue House was forced to accept a gift from the Roku family, not only for a million but also for an additional one million. The key to this result is Blue Bing, which should now be called Luo Gwang. In order not to give money to the two families, he gave it to the Blue House as if a powerful judge had blown a whistle. The people present were shocked, admired and pleased by the selfless act of luminous lanterns, which, after all, was a fair verdict that once was a man who wanted money to die.
It’s too late for the people of the village to drink a couple of glasses of a changed luminous lamp and see him go. He followed him and led his biological parents to a luxury car, the Rolls-Royce Mirage, parked at the village entrance, but few people knew its name and price. Some villagers say it’s expensive, 300 grand. Where’s the other villagers gonna buy $300,000? At least 350,000. No one at that time could have thought of the Blue Preah Vihear that had been sent for foster parents and radiant lights, because the car was his.
Lan Bhai Wang put the adoptive parents and their sons in the car. He watched as he drove away in his car, looking forward to a life of superiority and a destiny of wealth, as if he were a meteor that cut through the sky. He is well aware that everything he had in the past has been inherited. Anyway, the 10 million-million Rolls-Royce car that just left is no longer his. His name was also used for more than 30 years and no longer belonged to him. He is now the son of Blue Blanche, a farmer in the village of Hautling. His blood is linked to their blood, and his emotions are even natural intimacy to them — his knees and his calls to his parents are self-indulgent and heartless. They cannot live without his son, nor can he ignore his biological parents. His fate and his life can be fooled, but the love of his flesh and blood is deeply rooted.
It’s warmer and colder this time of spring.
Right
Ma to the CEO of the Successful Group. The new president’s name is Luo-Long, but not the original Long-Lang. The light man is tall and dark, like the chairman of the board. And the outgoing luminous light is so weak, so white and white, that in the past people used to say it like a mother, it must not even be said now.
Group executives and some middle-level cadres already know what’s going on. The former president, Luo Luang, was the fake son of the chairman, and the new president, Luo Luang, was the son of the chairman. More than 30 years ago, the Chairman ‘ s son was born in the county hospital, when he was actually nursing, and the other ‘ s son was held wrong, and it was more than 30 years before he found out that he was to be taken back and replaced by a false son.
There is nothing wrong with a son’s father, and this time his son will be in office. In family enterprises, the son has the father of the chairman of the board of directors, who is, of course, or rightly so. Almost no one in the group can contest it, nor can one of them speak out. All of the participants in the meeting, despite the silence of some, made significant changes in the personnel of their family groups.
The Chairman of the Board, Roshma, announced his decision and waited for the applause to fade away, looking at his son standing up and waving, pulling a slit on his shirt and prompting him to sit down. The son sits down and immediately pulls out a cigarette. Despite his displeasure, his father, Roshma, failed to stop, and he quickly turned his son ‘ s eyes towards the waiter standing by the wall. The waiter sent in the ashtray.
The luminous luminous lantern smokes, and the smoke from his nostrils shows how strong it is, or how high it is. The thick smoke is sprayed vertically and then spreads like waterfalls.
The smoke is so thick, the smell of stimuli goes to sensitive people. It’s starting to cough. But there were no more than two coughs, and they immediately stopped, as if they realized that cough was more harmful than smoking and that they were silent in time before their identities or positions were fully exposed.
The ash on the butts is long, but it’s not broken off on the cigarette rolls, like rotting nails on human fingers.
The anxious father made gestures to remind his son that it was time to drop the ash.
But the son did not put ash in the ashtray, but went to the floor with his own hands, as if he were used to. The waiter came over quickly, kneeled down and wiped with a rag.
The people below look in the eyes, but they look away.
The father on the podium whispered to the son next to you. Then he looked at the men under the stage and said out loud, “Please speak to the CEO of Luo Zhong!” I’m sorry.
The radiant light pulls out the smoke in the applause and stands again. Just as he was about to put a cigarette in his mouth, it stopped, as if the mind had taken over. This time he put the remaining small smog in the chimney, strangling and strangling the smoke.
The inaugural speech of Luo-Longlight was very brief, and he said, “I have just come up, and I don’t know anything, but I am determined to learn and understand soon. I hope you will cooperate with me. Don’t lie to me. If I find out who lied to me, I’ll treat him like he’s a gambler! I’m sorry.
The new Managing Director is very brief and his words are alarming. After the President had said his words, those who listened forgot to applaud, or to be silent for a long time, and the applause sounded. And it’s so loud and so long, it’s like watching a play with a heart, and immersed in it, waiting for the air to pass or to come back, giving it back to the stage was the most vivid and the most beautiful.
The Chairman concluded by saying, “Managers, heads of departments, managers, as you all know before, our group is the chief executive, which is the same system from now on and on. The current CEO is my son, as was his predecessor. I hope you support my son as much as you support my son now. They’re all called Luo Lights. My son, Luo Luang, has suffered since his birth and has suffered a lot that many people cannot bear. But he made it, he made it. He has just begun a new life, without experience in the business world and without management experience. He’s a man of character, straight and straight. He doesn’t say anything. I hope you will understand. Please, thank you!”
While listening to the Chairman, they look at the group’s highest commander, like listening to the wind blowing from the summit, feeling its energy and coldness. Most of them look at him with respect and respect and obey his teaching — it must be those who have followed the chairman of the group for many years, fighting under his command and loyally. There is, of course, a return that, in addition to being promoted, wealth is generally increased by snowballing, and who owns only two or less sets of properties will be laughed at. It’s a blessing to follow an economy like this. But this blessing should be thin, not even. A year ago, the 65-year-old chairman had given power to his former son, and now he is in power with his own son, and there is no doubt that, out of guilt and trust in his son, he has absolutely let go. He’s a good son. He’s a good boy. Those who are re-used by old employees and fathers are treated as they have been, or are placed properly. Now that he’s here, looking at the details and the momentum, it’s so rough and hectic, like a violent warlord. But this new president is not likeable, he has to obey and obey. Otherwise, it would either be on its own or awaiting dismissal. However, in a medium-sized city of Nanning, where there are few businesses and people willing to leave or be expelled, such a good business and well-being, with an economy of more than 30 billion a year, a publicly traded company, executives with an annual salary of 600,000, middle-class 400,000 and ordinary employees with a monthly salary of over 10,000? Unless it’s sick. It’s good to be sick, and Ma-su succeeded has always been kind to the sick, with the full reimbursement of medical expenses, the absence from work and the drought and floods.
The people present were all red and they didn’t look sick. They are either loyal advocates or performers of the spirit of welcome to new officials.
More than 200 mid-level managers of the Group, as has been the practice in the past, leave early and late, meaning that they arrive before the meeting, and wait for their departure at the end.
They thought the same was true today and later. So when the chairman announced that the meeting was over, nobody left. All looked at the chairman and the president, waiting to see them leave.
Let’s go! I’m sorry.
It’s like a military order, and it’s just like this, and it’s like a three-step look. It’s like the travelers have the best view.
All that’s left is Rose Marlowe.
“We can’t go first. They’re the ones who’re going ahead of us. We’ll never fall like the Wall. I’m sorry.
The father seemed to understand the magic of his son’s words, and he laughed at his heart and said, “Lights, you know things.” I’m sorry.
Yes.
The luminous light was greatly appreciated by a woman who had come in neither through the Secretary ‘ s report nor without knocking on the door.
She’s like a beautiful pheasant that comes out without a roundup, and she’s a little caught up in the light. She went straight to the front of the desk and bowed and said, “How are you?” I’m sorry.
“Who are you? “He spoke with a little caution, as if he was afraid to scare her away.
Zhou Wenting, a woman who claims to be Zhou Wenting, said, “The Zhou of Zhou, the Zhou Wen of Zhou, the Ting Ting of Zhou. I’m sorry.
Zhou Wenzing’s name, the sound, the radiant light is remembered, but the text, the radiant light, does not know how to write it, because he does not know who Zhou Wenzheng is and has not seen the word Zhou Zing. But he thinks it’s a nice name, because it’s from a pretty woman. Her mouth is also very vivid, and her lips are red as fire, thick as a twilight. And with two symmetrical dimples on the side of the mouth, it’s like a good bottle of wine, and it’s killing me.
“What are you doing here? “The light is euphemism.
“I’m coming to work.” Zhou said.
“To work? ” The lights are ticking.
Zhou Man-ting said, “I want to go to work. I’m sorry.
“What department are you in?” “Lowlight says that there must be no one in his head who’s seen all the departments for a month.
“External Relations Department. Zhou Wenting says:
“Oh, I’ve been. “How come he hasn’t seen her since he said it.
“I’m off,” said Zhou Wen-ting, “Foresee General, 10 days a month.” It could have been longer, but think about it, come back. I’m sorry.
“Ooh? Luo Lantor said that he had a doubt in his head, like he had a hoe to dig, “That’s a wedding leave or maternity leave? I’m sorry.
Neither. I’m sorry.
“What kind of leave takes so long?” I’m sorry.
“The king is fake. I’m sorry.
Zhou Wen-ting looked at me with his eyes.
“Maybe you’ve heard it, maybe you haven’t heard it, and I’ll just say it,” said Zhou Wen-ting said, “She’s walking like a teacher, “I’m the girlfriend of the former president, Luo Luang. We met when we were studying abroad. He went home, I went back with him. He went back to the country and we broke up. She stopped and looked at the current president, also known as Luo Luang, waiting for him to react.
I can’t believe it didn’t work out. He’s holding his breath and he controls himself like a solid rock.
Zhou Wenting went on to say, “I am a snobby woman, and I am fond of him because he is the son of the chairman of the conglomerate. But, unexpectedly, he’s actually the farmer’s son. He went back to the countryside, but I couldn’t live with him. Then continue working in groups, and I don’t think it’s necessary. So I left, said I was on vacation, and actually quit. So, why am I back? I’m a snob. The president is also the president’s son and is also called Luo Gwang. The conditions I seek remain the same, the desired goals and symbols remain the same. Well, why don’t I come back and try? I’m sorry.
Listening to the nakedness of the woman in front of us, the joy of the luminous light, the splattering of the sparks, like the hope that the fuses were finally set on fire, his so-called solid stone was in fact filled with explosives. He suppressed his body for many years and decided to blow it up for this woman.
“That’s right,” Luo Luang said, “The man you abandoned, he’s now called Blue Bean. I’m sorry.
Zhou Wenting suddenly cried, like a sad and happy clash of desperate results, as well as further enticing men’s sympathy and pathetic tears.
The radiant light is hooked. How can a man from the countryside who knows and doesn’t even know a woman like a hungry, stupid fish not get caught?
The Zhou Wen-Ting flashing light was pulled out and then pulled up, but he jumped. He fought hard against his captors and turned her over and pulled her into the water. Office soft carpets like the sea. The radiant lamp in the water was like a dragon, and Zhou Wenting was thrown over and over and over again, and the cry was deafening.
The light says, “Do you like it? I’m sorry.
Zhou Wenting shakes her head.
“Then why are you crying? I’m sorry.
Zhou Wen-ting is laughing to know that this brave man is actually new. “Did you gamble?” she said.
“Of course I have. “The light says,
“Was winning happy or losing happy, huh?”
“Of course he won the money and was happy,” he said, “Oh, I know. I cried when I won, but I didn’t cry because it was too hard to win!” I’m sorry.
“You’re smart,” said Zhou Wen-ting, “You’re great! I’m sorry.
“Do you have that radiant lamp in front? I’m sorry.
Zhou Wenting said: ‘Supplicate his name is Blue Blah’ I’m sorry.
“Yes,” the radiant says, “He doesn’t deserve you now. I’m sorry.
“Will you marry me?”
The Luo light thought, “No. I’m sorry.
Zhou Wen-ting’s tongue and face are so stiff, it’s like a frozen piece of meat.
“But I can give you money,” the light says, “How much do you want?” I’m sorry.
Zhou Wen-ting said, “How much do you want?” I’m sorry.
Five thousand, tops ten thousand. I’m sorry.
Zhou Wen-ting’s face suddenly unfrozen. Ha-ha smiled, and he looked back. But just smile and don’t talk.
“More or less? I’m sorry.
Zhou Man-ting is just smiling, and the face says, “Many!” I’m sorry.
The luminous light says: “Most is a reward for you.” I’m sorry.
Zhou Wen-ting said, “No! She spits at the radiant, “This is for you! I’m sorry.
The Zhou Wenting fell on the door, and some of the lights were shaking their heads in an awkward manner. Then he made a phone call on a landline, “Finance? There’s a man named Zhou Wen-ting, I don’t know how to write it, but that’s the sound. How did she get her salary? All right, now hit her with $200,000. No, half a million. That’s it. I’m sorry.
He hung up the phone, leaned on the back of his chair, closed his eyes and breathed through his mouth, like he was overworked and like he was purified. Then, after a while, his eyes were opened, and he looked forward, and said: “Lam Bhai, I cannot marry a woman whom you have made.” Well, there’s a creep in the heart; and second, the woman’s bourgeois ideology is too big for profit. As long as he’s rich, he’s on the floor, he’s not on the face. “A little emotional?”
No answer.
There’s no one else in the office except radiant lights.
I don’t know.
Keep your eyes on the road.
