FVN Chapter 387 National Treasures and the Last Echo of the Century
Chapter 387 National Treasures and the Last Echo of the Century
Chapter 385 National Treasures and the Last Echo of the Century
José raised his glass again and downed the last spicy liquid in one gulp.
Then, he looked at Lin Yu'an and slowly said the words that made Lin Yu'an's brain instantly shut down.
"Actually—there were no nuclear bombs at all."
This statement shocked Lin Yu'an more than any previous reversal!
"What?!" he exclaimed, "Then the radioactive markers we saw—"
“It’s all real,” José interrupted him, a mocking smile on his face. “The logo is real, and the boxes are real too.”
"But that core is fake."
"Have you ever heard of a Russian general named Alexander Lebed?" José suddenly asked a seemingly unrelated question.
Lin Yu'an nodded. He knew this person; he was a famous political and military figure after the collapse of the Soviet Union.
“That’s right,” José said. “In the 90s, he claimed to the world that more than one hundred suitcases of nuclear bombs went missing after the collapse of the Soviet Union.”
"This incident caused enormous panic in the Western world, and the CIA and FBI went on a global search for these so-called lost nuclear weapons."
"But they'll never find it." A cold smile curled at the corner of José's lips.
"Because most of those so-called missing nuclear bombs were fake from the start. They were just well-made empty shells with low-dose radioactive sources inside."
"As for the real ones, we don't even know where they are hiding, or even whether they exist at all."
Looking at Lin Yu'an's shocked expression, he seemed to see through all his thoughts and finally slowly revealed the deepest truth of "Operation Swift".
"Let's go back to 1973." José's voice seemed to come from the depths of history.
"On the surface, it was a period of détente in US-Soviet relations; Nixon and Brezhnev even embraced in front of the cameras. But beneath the surface, turbulent currents were brewing."
"In October, the Fourth Middle East War broke out, and Israel, with emergency airlift support from the United States, turned the tide and won. Enraged, the Arab countries immediately launched an oil embargo, plunging the entire Western world into panic."
"The scales of war have once again tipped in America's favor. To the hawks in Moscow, Washington has begun a new round of nuclear blackmail."
"They believed that the Americans dared to act so recklessly because they felt that the Soviet Union would not dare to engage in a real confrontation with them outside of its own territory."
"To break this deadlock, the KGB top brass approved an ultimate nuclear fraud plan codenamed Swift."
"The core of the plan is not actually to bomb the United States. It's to make Americans believe that we have the capability to detonate a disaster on their own soil that they cannot afford."
"As planned, the KGB factory produced nearly a hundred suitcases exactly like the ones you saw in the cave in a very short time."
"However, General Secretary Brezhnev at the time was extremely uneasy about the risks of this plan. He feared that if something went out of control, it would become real and trigger a world war."
"Ultimately, after intense negotiations between the military and the KGB, he issued a compromise order: one hundred fakes and ten real ones."
.
"Ninety out of a hundred suitcases are fakes filled with lumps of iron, but ten of them contain real tactical nuclear devices that can be detonated."
"Then, these nuclear bombs, whose authenticity is difficult to discern, were secretly transported through global clandestine channels to all countries surrounding the United States for hiding in Cuba, Mexico, and even Canada—the Temple is just one node in this vast network."
"The next step in the plan is to deliberately let some of the counterfeit goods be discovered by the CIA or their allies through some accident."
"You can imagine," José said, a near-fanatical glint in his eyes.
"What would the Americans think if, after going to great lengths to intercept a briefcase-sized nuclear bomb they'd always dreamed of, they discovered it was just a metal lump that emitted radiation?"
"They won't feel relieved, they'll only feel a deeper fear! Because they'll think, if this one is fake, what about the real one?"
"Is the next one the real one? How many have they hidden? Which one is the real one?!"
"This is the essence of Project Swift. It exploits the deepest fears and suspicions in people's hearts, using ninety lies to cover up ten, or perhaps none, nuclear bombs."
"This would place the entire North American continent under a perpetual, unproven shadow of nuclear terror."
"And this plan worked."
José looked at Lin Yu'an and told her the final ending that perfectly matched the true history.
"In June 1973, just as Operation Swift was progressing smoothly, Brezhnev visited Washington. At Camp David and Nixon, the U.S.-Soviet Nuclear War Prevention Agreement was signed."
"The whole world thought that was the pinnacle of détente, a commitment to peace by the two superpowers."
"But only we know that behind that grand treaty, the KGB used nearly a hundred Pandora's boxes, some real and some fake, to hold the Americans back behind the negotiating table!"
"That wasn't a peace agreement; it was a temporary ceasefire negotiated through nuclear blackmail."
This truth shocked and chilled Lin Yu'an even more than the discovery of a real nuclear bomb!
He understood everything in an instant.
That wasn't a forgotten doomsday weapon, but a carefully orchestrated stage prop filled with lies and conspiracies!
He and Raven were like two actors who had accidentally wandered onto this stage, performing a heartfelt monologue of fear in front of a fake prop.
Lin Yu'an slowly lowered the gun that had been aimed at Jose's brow. Looking at the old man before him, who seemed to be on his last legs, his emotions were incredibly complex.
"But I don't understand why I found gold coins? Why did you seal that temple?"
"And that gold coin—why did it end up on the seabed in the Bahamas?"
Only sorrow remained in Jose's cloudy eyes. "Because—Anya and I are both tired."
His voice was very soft, as if he were talking to himself.
"We met again in 1973, and we were both middle-aged, in our forties. Half a lifetime of bloodshed and turmoil had made us see too much."
"During those brief days awaiting orders from Moscow, we talked a lot. We talked about the heavy snow of 1944, and about the comrades in the Storm Brigade who had already sacrificed their lives—"
"The more we talked, the more we realized that our so-called faith had been eroded and riddled with holes by endless lies and betrayals."
"We've all started thinking about retirement." A rare, gentle smile appeared on José's face.
"She said she wanted to go home, so we decided that once this mission was completely over, we would apply to the organization together to return to Eastern Europe, to her hometown, to buy a quiet farm, raise horses, grow grapes, and live out the rest of our lives there."
"When the news of the signing of the Nuclear War Prevention Agreement came, we knew that Operation Swift had succeeded, and our war could finally be over."
"All the swifts will enter their deepest hibernation, waiting to be awakened again, or—never to awaken again."
"So, before Anya returned to Moscow to report on her duties, we went back to the temple together and sealed the gate leading to the main road with cement by hand."
"We left a weak point, just in case. But for us, sealing that door is more of a ritual."
"That collection of Krleza's poems is both a testament to our meeting during World War II, a testament to the beginning of our youth, and a testament to the end of an era."
"I put it, along with that sinister 'Operation Swift' plan, into a lead box and sealed it away forever in that temple cave."
"It's like—like completely sealing away that blood-soaked past between Anya and me, a past that can never be revisited."
Jose's story had reached its most crucial point. His breathing became somewhat rapid.
"Everything is settled. Anya will soon be returning to Moscow on a cargo ship for her final performance review. After that, she will retire due to illness and completely leave the organization."
"At the dock in Santo Domingo, before I left, I told her, 'I have something to give you.' And then—"
Inside the wine cellar, José slowly opened his tightly clenched hand, and the 1714 Spanish royal gold coin in his palm still gleamed heavily under the light.
"I gave her this gold coin. It has been sleeping at the bottom of the sea for hundreds of years and has been brought back to the light of day. I hope it can bring you good luck and help you come back safely to my side."
At this moment, José's voice choked with emotion, "However, this departure is a final farewell."
"A month later, I received a one-way notification from Moscow. The notification contained only one sentence: Comrade Anya's cargo ship encountered a storm in the Bermuda Triangle, and there were no survivors."
"An accident?" Jose's face revealed a smile that was more like a grimace, filled with endless mockery.
"In the KGB world, there are never any surprises. I know there must be someone—who doesn't want her, or the secrets she knows, to return to Moscow."
"My last beautiful moments sank with that ship."
"I want revenge! I thought of that nuclear bomb. I blew up its weak point, and after inspection, I found that, without a doubt, the nuclear bomb was fake."
He lowered his head, looking at the gold coins in his palm, as if looking into the cold, blue eyes of his lover.
"Since then, my heart has died completely. I have kept this secret and this promise that can never be fulfilled, and I have lived in this forgotten corner of the world until now."
"Sometimes I think, maybe Anya didn't die. She just took this gold coin and went to another corner of the world to live the quiet life she wanted."
He slowly raised his head, and tears welled up in his cloudy eyes.
"I never expected—I really never expected that fifty years later, when I was about to die, I would see this gold coin again."
"Is that Anya? Is she in heaven—waiting anxiously?"
"Is she blaming me for not going to see her all these years?"
"It must be like this—it must be like this—"
77
This centenarian, who was as powerful as a demon in Lin Yu'an's eyes, completely collapsed at this moment.
He was like a lost child, clutching the cold gold coin tightly, sobbing heartbreakingly.
Lin Yu'an stood there quietly, without putting away any of his weapons.
He dared not gamble.
After an unknown amount of time, the sobbing gradually subsided.
The old man, who had weathered a century of storms, slowly raised his head and casually wiped away the tears on his face with the back of his wrinkled hand.
When he looked at Lin Yu'an again, the old lion that had been knocked down stood up again.
"Kid," his voice was still hoarse, but had regained its composure, "put your gun away. Our war is over."
Lin Yu'an stared at him for a few seconds, and only after confirming that there was no longer any murderous aura on him did he slowly put the two Glocks back into their holsters.
"Now, I want to make a deal with you," Jose said, his tone shifting from that of a confidant back to that of the all-powerful old agent.
Lin Yu'an didn't speak, but simply raised an eyebrow, signaling him to continue.
"Come with me."
José stood up and carefully placed the Spanish gold coin, which was like life itself to him, into the pocket of his shirt closest to his heart.
Then, he led Lin Yu'an out of the small cellar filled with the aroma of rum and sad memories.
Instead of returning to the noisy bar, they took a hidden staircase to the second floor.
This is José's private residence, a study filled with former Yugoslavian and Soviet styles, seemingly frozen in time in the 70s.
Black and white photographs of Belgrade hang on the wall, bookshelves are filled with works by Krlezza and Andrić, and there is a small globe with the borders marked as they were before the collapse of the Soviet Union.
José walked to a seemingly ordinary bookshelf and took down a thick copy of "War and Peace".
Instead of opening it, he fumbled around inside the bookshelf for a moment before pressing a hidden button.
"Buzz"
A low, rumbling motor sounded, and the heavy mahogany bookshelf slowly slid to one side, revealing a cold wall behind it.
In the center of the wall is a huge circular safe door that requires a turntable and a key to open.
This is the real heart of this old agent.
Jose skillfully turned the combination lock and inserted an inconspicuous key. With a crisp click, he pulled open the incredibly heavy safe door.
Lin Yu'an did not approach, but stood warily at the door, watching Jose carefully take out an object about twenty centimeters tall, wrapped in velvet, from the depths of the safe.
Jose placed the object on the desk and then slowly peeled back the layer of dark blue velvet.
Lin Yu'an's breath almost stopped the moment he saw the Easter egg.
He didn't need any authentication; he recognized the Easter egg at a glance!
—A Fabergé Easter egg!
The name, like the heaviest bell, resounded in his mind!
Lin Yu'an understood the meaning behind those four words better than anyone else. It wasn't just jewelry; it was the absolute pinnacle of human luxury art.
It was also the last and most brilliant swan song of the Tsarist Augusto Romanov dynasty!
From 1885 to 1916, court jeweler Peter Karl Fakenges created 50 unique royal Easter eggs for Tsars Alexander III and Nicholas II.
Each one is a miniature miracle, full of ingenious ideas, requiring countless hours of work and rare materials.
These were not merely private collections of the Tsarist family, but the ultimate display of power for the entire Russian Empire.
However, a cannon shot in 1917 brought it all to an abrupt end.
Bolsheviks stormed into the Winter Palace, and all the imperial treasures that symbolized the extravagance of the old era were confiscated.
During the ensuing decade of chaos, some of these items were sold off cheaply by the Stalin government in exchange for hard currency for industrial construction and were scattered throughout the world.
Even now, the numbers that drove all treasure hunters crazy still clearly appear in Lin Yu'an's mind.
"This—a Fakang Hot Easter Egg?" Lin Yu'an's voice trembled slightly, a tremor he himself hadn't even noticed.
A flicker of surprise crossed José's eyes, which quickly turned into the approval of a victor.
"Good eye, kid." He nodded. "You can recognize its name just by its craftsmanship and grandeur. Much better than those idiots in our department back in the day who only knew the weight of gold."
He stretched out his wrinkled hand, gently stroking the cold, smooth enamel surface of the egg with a touch of nostalgia.
"The head of the Fakenger workshop created 50 royal Easter eggs. After being sold off cheaply during the war and the Stalin era, 43 of them have been recovered."
"Ten of them have never left their homeland and are still treasured in the Dzungar Armory in Moscow, serving as Russian treasures and receiving pilgrimages from people all over the world."
"Nine of them were once owned by Malcolm Forbes, the owner of Forbes magazine, who was a major figure in the American media industry."
"But in 2004, they were all snatched up by a mysterious Russian oligarch, Vizondo Vizonzelberg, before a Sotheby's auction for a total price of over 100 million US dollars, and brought back to the Fakangze Museum in St. Petersburg."
"Three of them were acquired from the British Royal Collection. Queen Mary, the grandmother of Queen Elizabeth II, purchased them in the 1930s from the Soviet government, which was eager to earn foreign exchange, at a very low price. Today, they are among the most dazzling treasures in Buckingham Palace."
""
"The remaining 21 pieces are distributed among mysterious private collectors in the Virginia Museum of Fine Arts and the Liverpool Museum of Art in the United States, as well as in Switzerland, Monaco, and other places."
"The last seven royal eggs, like ghosts, vanished completely into the annals of history after the flames of the 1917 revolution!"
"No definite record was left, it did not appear at any auction, and even a clear photograph is extremely rare."
"These are the most effeminate and alluring unsolved mysteries in the entire history of 20th-century art!"
The whereabouts of each lost Easter egg holds a priceless, earth-shattering secret! Finding any one of them means more than just wealth.
That means you will personally fill in a gap in the history of the lost empire, and your name will forever be linked with the final glory of the Romanov dynasty!
"And this one in front of you—you'll never guess its name." Jose's tone carried a hint of pride in revealing the ultimate secret.
"Because its true-color photographs were never publicly released. After its disappearance, all that the world could see were a few blurry black-and-white archived photos."
He slowly and deliberately revealed the true identity of the egg: "It is a Royal Danish Egg from 1903."
"A masterpiece commissioned by Tsar Nicholas II in memory of his mother, Empress Maria, who was from Denmark, and also to celebrate the 40th anniversary of the accession of his maternal grandparents, King John IX and Queen Louise of Denmark."
"The surprise inside is a miniature gold double portrait of the Danish emperor and queen, hidden behind an imperial eagle emblem symbolizing the Romanov dynasty."
Lin Yu'an was completely shocked; he knew the legendary status of this Easter egg.
Of all the lost imperial treasures, the Royal Danish Egg, with its clear commemorative significance and the deep kinship connecting two European chambers, has always been one of the ultimate holy grails sought after by collectors and historians!
Unexpectedly, this phantom, which only exists in black and white photographs and historical archives, is lying here quietly!
(ps: copy)
"How did you find it?" Lin Yu'an asked sincerely.
"Luck, plus skill." A hint of pride, typical of an elite agent reminiscing about his glorious past, appeared on Jose's face.
"The most important task of the S Bureau in the 60s was heritage recovery, which involved recovering artworks, gold and family secrets that the Nazis had looted from the Soviet Union during World War II, all over the world."
"My three-person task force, codenamed 'The Mole,' was specifically tasked with infiltrating Europe."
"While investigating a batch of royal portraits that had been stolen from the Winter Palace in St. Petersburg, we followed the trail and discovered a secret treasure trove belonging to a Nazi German general in Austria."
"We dealt with the guards, blew open the vault doors, and found it filled with gold, paintings, and all sorts of jewels."
"While my two companions were cheering over the vulgar gold, only I noticed the hidden safe deep inside the vault."
"After prying it open, my companions were very disappointed because there was no gold inside, only an egg wrapped in velvet, which they didn't even know what it was."
"But I took specialized art appreciation classes at the training center in Moscow."
"Only I know that what we found is ten thousand times more precious than all the gold in that entire treasury combined."
"After the mission is completed, according to regulations, it should be handed over to the treasury. But—" A sly smile appeared on José's face.
"A perfect battle damage report, plus a minor transport mishap, caused this Easter egg to disappear from the Dzungar Kremlin's collection list forever."
"It's beautiful, isn't it?" José's tone was flat. "But for us, it's only used to exchange for intelligence."
It can be used to bribe politicians or as a last resort to save one's life.
"After the mission was over, I kept it here as my personal retirement fund."
He gently pushed the dazzling egg, which radiated a bright emerald green light, toward Lin Yu'an.
Then, he took out a thick, hardcover work notebook from the safe.
"This contains clues to other treasures that our Mole Team tracked down around the world back then."
"Some are in ancient castles in Europe, some are in the deserts of Africa, and even—some are right here in America."
"These things mean nothing to me anymore. I can't take them to my grave, and I don't want them to be found by those Moscow bureaucrats again."
He also placed his work notes next to the Easter egg.
"Now, I'll use these two things to exchange for one of yours." José took out a gold coin from his shirt knife pocket. "I'm willing to use these to exchange for this Spanish gold coin."
Lin Yu'an was completely shocked by this deal.
He gazed at the lost "Royal Danish Egg," a legendary Easter egg capable of triggering a frenzy of bidding among billionaires at any top auction.
Conservative estimates suggest its price could easily exceed fifty million US dollars or even higher, not to mention the inestimable value of the "Global Treasure Map" notebook, which left them speechless.
"You—you really want to use all of this to exchange for that gold coin?" Lin Yu'an sensed something amiss. "The worldly value of these two things is not even in the same league."
"Of course," José replied without any hesitation.
He didn't immediately take the gold coins from the egg, but slowly sat down and leaned back in his chair. His cloudy eyes seemed to pierce through the dazzling light of the egg and gaze into another time and space.
"Kid," he slowly began to operate, as if speaking to himself, "do you know? Ever since Anya left, I've been guarding this secret on this island for almost fifty years."
"Every day I wipe wine glasses, listen to the sailors boast, and pretend I'm just an ordinary old man forgotten by time."
"But every time the night is quiet, I ask myself, what am I still waiting for?"
"Waiting for a phone call that will never ring? Or waiting for those Moscow bureaucrats who have long forgotten me to award me a medal that no one will ever know about?"
"I can't wait for anything." A smile more painful than a grimace appeared on his face. "I'm just a ghost living in the past, and the only thing keeping me alive is the thought that maybe Anya isn't dead."
"Perhaps she took that gold coin and fled to some corner of the world, living the quiet life we once dreamed of, growing grapes and raising horses."
"This thought, like a drug, helped me get through countless lonely nights. I told myself that Anya might still be alive."
He finally turned his gaze away from the void and focused it back on the small Spanish gold coin on the table, which shimmered with a warm light.
"But today, you brought it back. It came back to me from the bottom of the Bahamas. What does that mean?"
His voice, at this moment, carried a hint of fateful tremor.
"This means she really is gone. She didn't run away, nor did she forget me. She only—and this gold coin is her final reply to me."
"It told me that she had been waiting for me for fifty years."
José extended his slightly trembling hand and carefully took the gold coin back into his palm.
"So you're asking me why I would trade that priceless egg for this ordinary gold coin?"
"Because that egg, to me, is just a cold bargaining chip that can be exchanged for money."
"And this gold coin—" He gripped it tightly, as if holding the whole world in his hands, "| The last thing Anya held in her hand, the last token between us."
"It is more important than all the wealth in the world combined."
Lin Yu'an fell silent. He understood that the old man in front of him was not trading wealth or treasures.
What he traded was his stolen, remaining half-century of memories.
Lin Yu'an looked at him and said solemnly, word by word, "I agree."
"In that case, kid, take your spoils and go." José's tone returned to its usual calm, as if the thrilling duel just now was nothing but a dream.
He carefully placed the gold coin back into the scabbard closest to his heart, as if it were a precious treasure.
"Oh, right," Jose suddenly called out to Lin Yu'an just as he was about to turn and leave.
"Tomorrow morning at 9 o'clock," as if making a casual appointment, "bring Mai Zhuang over. There are some things I'd like to give him separately."
"Okay." Lin Yu'an looked at him and nodded. "I will tell him."
Without asking any further questions, he turned and quickly left the study filled with secrets.
Lin Yu-an did not return directly to the Polaris.
They first climbed up to the brightly lit night market and carefully purchased enough fresh water, fresh vegetables, and tropical fruits to sustain them on their journey to Cuba.
When he returned to the familiar deck filled with the scent of the sea breeze, carrying his belongings, it was already past ten o'clock at night.
Raven and Mai Zhuang were sitting at the end of the hill, drinking beer and chatting under the soft deck lights.
Upon seeing him return, Raven immediately stepped forward and took the things from his hands.
"Why is it so purple?" she asked casually, without any suspicion.
"There were too many people in the market, which delayed the basketball game for a while." Lin Yu'an's answer was flawless.
He didn't reveal a single word to Raven and McDormand about what happened in that wine cellar that night.
That thrilling showdown, that shocking secret about nuclear fraud, that priceless Easter egg, and that old man's sad story—all were temporarily buried in my heart.
Since Jose has arranged to meet with Mai Zhuang tomorrow, he might choose to personally tell this old friend he has known for ten years something.
He relayed Jose's invitation to Mai Zhuang.
"Jose wants you to come over to the exhibition at 9 a.m. tomorrow? He said he has something for you?" Mai Zhuang was a little surprised, but then he laughed.
"That old guy, so secretive. He's probably found some good cigars again and wants to show them off to me. Fine, I'll be there on time tomorrow."
Silent all night.
[Day 2, Port Samana, 9:00 AM]
When Lin Yu'an and his two companions returned to the quiet alley paved with cobblestones, they found that the familiar cowboy door of Qiu Chang's Bar was tightly closed.
A handwritten wooden sign hangs on the door: "Temporarily Closed"
"Strange," Mai Zhuang frowned. "This guy has been running the shop for over fifty years, and I've never seen him close it during the day."
1
Just as they were wondering what was going on, they saw José.
He wasn't inside the bar, but sitting at the bar entrance on the old wicker chair he usually used to sunbathe.
He was no longer the bartender in the old T-shirt from last night, nor the imposing KGB agent.
He was wearing an extremely formal, even meticulously tailored, dark blue suit, with a matching dark bow tie at the lapel.
His gray hair was meticulously combed with hair oil. His leather shoes were polished to a shine. He had even shaved off all the stubble on his chin.
He looked radiant, not like a centenarian, but a groom about to attend his own wedding.
His face held an unprecedented calm and serenity. He sat there quietly, his eyes slightly closed, enjoying the warm, salty sea breeze of the Caribbean morning.
"Jose?" Mai Zhuang called softly as he stepped forward.
José slowly opened his eyes, saw them, and gave them an extremely gentle smile.
"You've arrived." He gestured to an empty wine barrel beside him. "Have a seat."
"Old buddy, what are you doing today—" Mai Zhuang looked at his elaborate attire, utterly bewildered.
"It's nothing," José smiled, "I just wanted to look presentable."
He ignored the puzzled looks from Mai Zhuang and Ruiwen, and instead fixed his gaze on Mai Zhuang.
"Mai Zhuang," he said calmly, "we've known each other for almost twenty years, so I want to ask you to do one last thing for me."
He took an envelope and a set of keys from the inside pocket of his suit and handed them to Mike.
"Arrange my funeral."
"What nonsense are you talking about!" Mai Zhuang was startled by his words and immediately retorted.
"Let me finish," José said firmly. "This bar, and all the money I have in the bank, is yours."
"You can sell it to that fat guy at the dock named Fernando. He's been wanting to buy my bar for ages, but I keep telling him, unless I'm dead. Hahaha—"
He let out a hearty, genuine laugh. "Now, he can have his wish. Because I really am going to die."
"Old Jose! Are you crazy?! You can live for another twenty years!" Mai Zhuang stood up in shock and tried to grab his arm.
"No, Mai Zhuang." José's smile was terrifyingly calm. "I've lived too purple a life. So purple that I can no longer distinguish between memories and dreams."
"I took my medication just before you arrived."
These words struck everyone's hearts like a heavy hammer!
"You—" Mai Zhuang couldn't say a word, his eyes filled with pain and disbelief.
Jose didn't look at him again, but picked up a camera from beside him and handed it to Mai Zhuang.
"This is my will. Tell the police I died of natural causes. No autopsy, no investigation. Let me go in peace."
After doing all this, he felt as if a tremendous burden had been lifted from his shoulders.
He slowly leaned back in the wicker chair and gently held the Spanish gold coin, which he had strung on a leather cord and hung on his breast knife, in his hand.
Then, he suddenly raised his head and looked up at the azure sky.
Suddenly, a dazzling light shone in his eyes, which were about to lose focus. A pure, childlike smile, brimming with happiness, appeared on his face.
With difficulty, he stretched out his wrinkled, trembling right hand, as if he could see the girl he had waited for his whole life smiling at him from the sky.
He wanted to touch her cheek, just as he had done fifty years ago when he saw her off for the last time at the docks of Santo Domingo.
However, the hand reaching towards the sky suddenly lost all its strength when it was halfway up.
Under the watchful eyes of Lin Yu'an, Ruiwen, and Mai Zhuang, the arm slowly drooped down.
This man, who lived through a century of turmoil, emerged from the smoke of World War II, persevered under the shadow of the Cold War, and led a remarkable life.
An old man who lived a lonely life.
In the most brilliant morning light of the Caribbean Sea, he closed his eyes and left this world completely and peacefully.
Zhan went to his rendezvous, which was fifty years overdue.
José's life was but a speck of dust in the grand scheme of things, yet the era itself was the mountain that sustained him throughout his life.
(Completed)
(I was just showing off.)
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