Yang Chen tore apart the remaining cigarettes, scattered them into a pile, and distributed them one by one, leaving only one to light. He took a puff and exhaled the smoke, speaking lightly: "I won't smoke much anymore. Your sister-in-law said, if we want kids, I must quit smoking; I'll have to quit drinking too."
Yang Chen's gaze swept over the graves, and no one could answer him.
He took two more puffs and threw the cigarette into the fire, saying, "Enough, just a little indulgence will do, let's drink!"
Yang Chen opened a bottle of liquor, gulped down two mouthfuls, and felt the spicy taste flow throbbingly down his throat into his stomach, burning fiercely, like knives scraping his throat and intestines.
Yang Chen squinted, smiled, and said, "What a taste! Now this is the kind of liquor a guy in the Guard would drink!"
This taste reminded Yang Chen of when they were young recruits in the New Guard, sneaking drinks in the dormitory.
