If life could be repeated

Three black cars slowly drove through the crowd, their windows closed so that it was impossible to see who was inside.

On the wharf, the crowd gradually crowded into one place, all of them rushing to the boat in the afternoon, the narrow streets were crowded with peddlers and pawns, rickshaw drivers dangling bells, pulling rickshaws in front of the behemoth cars, and from time to time people passed through the small gaps, which made the car drivers annoyed and kept honking the car horns.

And a little farther away is the mouth of the box, outside the box, the steamer whined, spewed out bursts of white mist, the whistle was deafening, the chimney of the ship spewed thick smoke, and the blue sea haze fluttered and surged with the smoke.

Travelers in a hurry passed by with suitcases and cages, waving goodbye to their relatives and friends outside the iron bar, and the white mist from the steamer was blown by the wind, drifting to the shore, mixed with the flying dust, and a faint smell of choking was heard.

The car slowly stopped on the side of the road, and then two men in men got out of the car and walked to the far box, and after a while, the back seat window of the car in the middle slowly rolled down, and someone probed slightly, squinting and looking out.

The

pungent smell and the flying dust brought by the car rushed into the car from time to time, and the black curtain suddenly trembled, and Kazuo Honda coughed a few times, rolled up the window with a frown, and looked down at his watch again.

He raised his head, his eyebrows furrowed slightly, five twenty-eight o'clock, counting the time, it was already about to leave the ship...... However, just in case, he decided to wait for the ship to blow a second whistle before boarding.

Although the window has been rolled down a little gap, there is wind, but the car is still stuffy, the co-pilot Miura Ichiro and the driver in the front seat can't help but untie the neckline to open the air, Kazuo Honda himself is fat, and he can't stand the heat, the tip of his nose has already sweated, and he can't stop holding a bamboo fan to fan hard.

Today's cars don't have air conditioners like in later generations, so no matter how hot it is, you can only open the windows to ventilate.

Today, he was ordered to escort Shao Yixuan, the most dangerous enemy to the Empire, back to the Empire so that he could face the Empire's military trial.

He didn't dare to have the slightest slackness, how to say that the opinions within the imperial military department were not unanimous, some people advocated the immediate execution of Shao Yixuan, but some took a fancy to Shao Yixuan's military ability, and wanted Shao Yixuan to surrender, wanted to coerce and lure him, and entrusted him with reuse after the other party completely surrendered.

Therefore, he doesn't dare to make any mistakes at present, neither dare to let Shao Yixuan die, nor dare to let him escape.

This is a very painful thing for him, but the military department handed over this tricky matter to him.

The car was still very stuffy, Honda's mouth was even more dry, and after thinking for a long time, he asked Miura to get out of the car to buy tea, and the moment the car door opened, there was flying dust drifting in.

The dusty capital is really disgusting, he squinted at the chaotic scene outside the car, and only felt upset and irritable.

This backward place, these stupid Chinese people ......

Hondo had never been in such a hurry as he was now, he wanted to leave this place immediately, he wanted to put the people in the trunk on the ferry at once, and send them north all the time, thousands of miles away, to the Empire, and then be the ...... of his own hands

There was a teahouse across the street, and there were only a few people sitting on it, and the two guys were dozing off on the counter, and Miura walked to the counter and woke them up brutally, and while waiting, he saw that there was only one person sitting at the table next to the wall by the door, and the tea on the table was already empty.

Ichiro Miura saw that he was facing away from him, dressed normally, and he was also groggy as if he was about to fall asleep.

The

man made the tea and handed it to him, and when Ichiro Miura passed by, he looked at it again for some reason, as if sensing his peeping, and the man's gaze lifted slightly, and swept coldly to his face.

The scorching sun was as hot as fire, and after drinking the tea, the heat faded a little, Honda rolled down the window again, and looked out the window, the pedestrians on the side of the car hurried by with their suitcases and their families, and there were still people coming and going at the other end of the dock, and there were other ships with whistles, leaving the port one after another, some people were crying, some were reluctant, and more people walked by indifferently and did not stay.

The side

of the boat was crowded with people, scrambling to wave goodbye to relatives and friends on the shore.

The boat slowly sailed to the shore, and the people on the pier saw off gradually dispersed, merging in the flow of people.