novelzi Chapter 446 The Little Black Dog at the Gate
Chapter 446 The Little Black Dog at the Gate
On the military camp's parade ground, a gentle night breeze blew, and the projector's beam swayed slightly in the dust.
The roars that had just been urging Jiang Baizhi to stand up for her were finally silenced, and more than a thousand greenhorns sat down on the ground.
Although he was still muttering "the production team is inhumane," his body language betrayed him as he stared at the big screen.
After all, in a military camp, where even a female mosquito passing by would be questioned by the squad leader about her family background for three generations, being able to watch a live variety show is practically a physical form of mental health care.
"Tsk tsk, this guy has a pretty loud voice, but that high note he hits sounds like the broken power drill from the company next door to us."
A new recruit stuffed a spicy snack into his mouth and gave a professional-looking critique.
"You don't know anything! This is called 'heavy metal'. Although it sounds like a headache, at least it has a kind of desperate, ruthless energy."
Instructor Lao Hei sat at the front, legs crossed, a cucumber in his hand that he somehow managed to grab, and he was munching on it with gusto.
As the game progressed...
The program's effect began to veer wildly in an extremely bizarre direction.
Especially those two unlucky guys who got to draw the rap section.
One of them was frantically twirling his tongue, and then, just before the chorus, he suddenly choked on his own phlegm.
Another one is even more outrageous: a rap that sounds like someone is reading a fertilizer instruction manual to an old man at the village entrance.
"Pfft—hahahaha!"
A deafening roar of laughter erupted across the playground.
"Company commander! Look at this guy, his rhythm is terrible!"
"You call this rap? This is more like talking in your sleep!"
"The show's producers really nailed this particular song selection!"
However, the funniest moment of the entire show came when the sixth contestant took the stage.
This guy, like Jiang Baizhi, had incredibly good luck and drew the children's song.
On the screen, the male singer, who usually takes a cool and aloof approach, is now half-squatting on the stage with a look of grief and indignation.
To fit the theme of the nursery rhyme, he actually imitated a dog's movements and sang a nursery rhyme about "The Little Black Watchdog" in front of a large audience.
"Woof! Woof woof!"
"Little black dog, watch the door. If it sees a stranger, it will bark—"
"Woof! Woof woof!"
In that instant, the Eastern Military District's training ground completely spiraled out of control.
"Oh my god, I can't take it anymore!"
"This is hilarious, hahaha!"
The second company commander laughed so hard he collapsed to the ground, his boots slapping wildly against the concrete.
"Is this guy planning to take a different approach on the show?"
"What is he doing? Is he performing atavism in front of a national audience?"
"Hahaha, this amazing voice should just be renamed 'So Funny'!"
"Is this the standard of a top-tier music program? I've been in a pigsty all morning, and the noises I hear are more rhythmic than this!"
The new recruits laughed so hard they almost fell over, turning the originally dull military camp into a sea of joy.
In the eyes of these roughnecks, this act of "turning into a dog in public" in order to advance is simply the funniest skit they've ever seen!
.......
At the Kyoto Hotel, Jiang Bai was sprawled on his bed watching a live stream, a broad smile on his face.
He looked at the contestant on the screen who was barking loudly at the camera, and recalled that the recording session wasn't particularly funny!
"However, this contestant actually succeeded in choosing a funny children's song and sacrificing his image!"
"I remember this guy, he was third in scoring overall!"
.......
Meanwhile, a corner of Sichuan City.
Inside the Morning Star Welfare Home, the incandescent lights cast a slightly yellowish glow.
The air here isn't as scorching as it's portrayed online, nor is it as ruthless as the Eastern Military Region.
Instead, it exudes a quietude that seems to have been forgotten by time.
A faint smell of disinfectant lingers in the air year-round.
In the classroom.
Several teachers wearing aprons, their eyes filled with exhaustion, were clapping their hands, trying to lead a dozen or so children in a game of dropping the handkerchief.
But this time, the handkerchief was clearly impossible to drop.
The children sat in twos and threes, some staring blankly at the withered leaves outside the window, others unconsciously picking at their nails.
Several children sitting in the corner seemed to be trapped inside an invisible glass dome.
They are typical children with severe autism; the laughter and joy of the outside world are like disturbing noise to them.
There was no feedback other than making them retreat even deeper into their own world.
"Why......."
Teacher Zhang sighed softly, and the red handkerchief in her hand fell to the ground.
Looking at the group of children, she felt as if her heart had been stuffed with a damp wad of cotton.
Every child here has a label labeled "disabled" on their back.
Those that are healthy, lively, and clever have long been adopted by families who long for children.
The rest either have incurable congenital diseases.
Either they have serious psychological problems and are inherently unable to interact with others.
"I've played this game eight hundred times, and even I don't want to play it anymore, let alone these kids."
Teacher Zhang looked away, her eyes moist as she gazed out the window.
"Well, these repetitive days... will soon be over."
The other teachers also fell silent.
The story behind the welfare home came to mind without them noticing.
The dean was a woman with a tragic fate.
In her early years, she had a precious child named Tongtong, who went missing when he was three years old.
In the decade or so that followed, she traveled to almost half of China, wearing out countless pairs of shoes, and her heart was shattered into pieces.
Later, she stopped running away and used all her savings to open this welfare home.
The dean said that since they couldn't find their own children, they should treat all the children in the world without mothers as their own.
She always kept repeating:
"The more children I help, the more merit I accumulate."
"Perhaps Tongtong, who is far away, will also meet a kind person who will give him a hot meal..."
Over the years, the dean has truly been sacrificing his own health to support these children.
Some children have congenital heart disease, and she paid out of her own pocket to have specialists perform the surgery.
Some children are born with disabilities, so she asks rehabilitation teachers to teach them little by little.
But reality is cruel; good people don't always get good rewards in this world.
In the past two years.
The dean's business plummeted due to market fluctuations, and his once substantial fortune was almost wiped out.
"Just two days ago, the finance department said there was less than 10,000 yuan left in the account."
Teacher Wang lowered her voice, her tone filled with the desolation born of a sense of powerlessness:
"Although some kind-hearted people in society will donate some schoolbags or noodles, we have dozens of mouths to feed and several people waiting for medicine. That little bit of money is really just a drop in the ocean."
"What will happen to Xiaoming and the others if we close the door?"
Teacher Zhang looked at the boy who had lost an arm:
"Given their physical condition, if they were transferred to another institution, would anyone genuinely care for them like the hospital director does?"
I think of those organizations that use charity as a front to make money.
The teachers all felt a chill; it seemed that late autumn had arrived earlier in Sichuan than in previous years.
Looking at those children huddled in the shadows, not even moving their eyes, the last bit of interest in playing the game was extinguished by this sense of powerlessness.
"Forget it, let's stop bothering these little devils."
Teacher Zhang rubbed his sore shoulders and looked helplessly at the somewhat old LCD TV on the wall:
"Let's turn on the TV and put on some cartoons, or at least make some noise so it won't be so quiet in this room that it makes me feel uneasy."