Since then, Beijing has also been restless.

In February, there was a major railway strike in Zhengzhou. By April, there were protests by the military and police in Beijing, causing traffic chaos.

At the end of the year, I went to Shanghai and got a job at a bank through connections.

The bank was located in the French Concession, almost isolated from the outside turmoil.

During work, we would drink tea, talk about movies, and share fashion magazines.

When someone came for business, they would hand me a slip of paper, and I would take it from them.

The person's voice was abrupt: "Hello, I'm here to access the safe deposit box."

"Please state your name."

The person's finger hesitated for a moment, seeming a bit stunned, and slowly said, "Cheng Qiuyu."

He wore a black felt hat, pressed low to conceal his face. Sensing my gaze, he slightly raised his chin, revealing his true identity.

It turned out to be Liu Xingzhi.

It had been two and a half years since we last parted ways in Beijing.

That year, his portraits were plastered all over the city, and the warlords almost turned Beijing upside down, but they couldn't catch Meng Siyu.

He had actually fled to Shanghai.

I had many doubts in my mind and hesitated to take action.

The sister at the neighboring counter noticed and asked, "Xiaoyu, do you have any questions?"

Hearing that, Liu Xingzhi lowered his head.

I quickly got up and went backstage to retrieve what he needed.

He left in a hurry.

I clenched the slip of paper in my hand, which had an address on it.

After work, I found 118 Xiapu Road, but it had long been abandoned.

I didn't have much hope to begin with. The name was fake, and the other information was likely fake as well.

As I walked back, the crowd gradually grew at the intersection.

A familiar voice sounded, "How did you end up in Shanghai?"

I turned my head in the direction of the voice, and Liu Xingzhi stood half a step away, pretending to be a passerby.

I smiled and lowered my head, saying, "I thought the address was fake."

"It is fake. I figured you would come, so I came here to wait."

His voice didn't reveal any emotions.

I paused for a moment, and Liu Xingzhi had already walked ahead.

I hurriedly took a few steps and asked, "How long do you plan to stay in Shanghai?"

Liu Xingzhi replied, "There are a lot of things to do, so I'll be staying for a while."

He stopped, and it turned out that the road ahead was blocked. The ringing sound echoed through the noisy crowd.

Liu Xingzhi straightened his posture and said, "Yuge, even if we're in Shanghai, let's not meet anymore."

He pointed ahead, "You go back on the main road, and I'll take the side street."

I hinted, "The path you're taking is also a main road."

Liu Xingzhi's eyes lit up, and he turned and walked away.

Later on, I would carefully raise my head and look at every person who came for business, but none of them were him.

Over a year later, Shanghai was hit by a wave of strikes.

At first, no one took it seriously, but in just one autumn, Shanghai workers held over a hundred strikes.

After the Spring Festival, it was already 1927, the most extraordinary year of my life.

In March, the armed workers' uprising succeeded, and the Provisional Municipal Government of Shanghai was declared.

But it only lasted for 42 days.

After the establishment of the provisional municipal government, I relaxed and planned to look for Liu Xingzhi.

But the situation changed suddenly. In April, the Shanghai gangs became active and clashed frequently with the workers' picket teams.

Soon after, hundreds of members from the Green and Red Gangs, along with secret agents, wearing blue shorts and black armbands with a white "工" character, dispersed inthe city and launched a massive crackdown on the workers' movement.

Violence erupted throughout Shanghai. The streets were filled with gunfire and chaos. Buildings were set on fire, and innocent people were caught in the crossfire.

During this time, I lost contact with Liu Xingzhi. It became nearly impossible to find anyone amidst the turmoil and violence.

The situation worsened when the National Revolutionary Army, led by Chiang Kai-shek, arrived in Shanghai in May. They claimed to be suppressing the gangs but ended up targeting the workers as well.

The workers' movement was crushed, and many of its leaders were arrested or executed. The city fell into a state of fear and uncertainty.

I decided to leave Shanghai and return to my hometown. The once vibrant and hopeful city had turned into a battlefield, and it was no longer safe for me to stay.

Back in my hometown, I tried to rebuild my life and find a sense of normalcy. But the memories of those turbulent years in Beijing and Shanghai, the encounters with Liu Xingzhi, and the hopes and dreams we once shared, lingered in my mind.

Years passed, and the country went through further changes. The Chinese Civil War broke out, leading to the establishment of the People's Republic of China in 1949. But by then, Liu Xingzhi and I had long lost touch.

Though our paths may have diverged, the memories of that time remain etched in my heart. The struggles, the passion, and the desire for a better future still resonate within me.

As I look back on those years, I can't help but wonder what became of Liu Xingzhi and if he ever achieved the dreams he fought for. Perhaps one day, our paths will cross again, and we'll have a chance to reminisce about the past and share our experiences of the tumultuous era we lived through.