Hello, 1983

Liu Qingshan also rushed to the guardrail, and then saw a hundred or ten strange-looking people sitting on the road in the crowd.

Different from the well-dressed people in the city, among these people, most of the men are shirtless, with various ornaments hanging on their chests, and their faces are also painted with various colors.

The women inside are also wearing long robes, and their bodies are also full of ornaments.

Some people were holding signs in their hands, and the distance was a little far away, so Liu Qingshan could not read the words on the signs.

There are also people who are shouting loudly, which may be the language of their own ethnic group, so they can't understand it.

Among the crowd, there is also a very eye-catching old man, wearing a feathered crest. It seems that he may be a relatively well-known elder in the tribe, or a chief.

Looking at their yellow skin and black hair, Liu Qingshan suddenly felt a very close feeling.

The Indians indeed belong to the yellow race, and they may even have the same bloodline as the yellow race living in China.

Regardless of the fact that the American continent and the Eurasian continent are completely separated, in fact, the Bering Strait, which connects the two continents, is more than 100 miles wide.

If it encounters severe cold, the Bering Strait is frozen, and people can pass through the ice, from the Eurasian continent, to the American continent on foot.

At this time, the police had already rushed into the scene, and the parade had caused a half of the traffic in the entire city to be paralyzed, which must be resolved immediately.

But in the face of these Indians, the police are helpless, let alone them, not even the president.

This is the most sensitive issue. The method of using violence to disperse will definitely not work. I don't know how many people will be punished.

Then it can only be changed to persuasion and negotiation. It is best to invite these uncles to the city hall and have a good chat with those officials.

Unexpectedly, these Indians, very stubborn, just waved the sign in their hands, which read:

Give us back the land we lost.

The policemen were having a lot of headaches. The leader of the team was Sergeant Fred from the Southern Branch of the Los Angeles Police Department.

Sheriff Fred, who has also seen big scenes, knows that if this situation continues, it will definitely become more and more troublesome.

It seems that only the D team can be dispatched, and these guys should be brought into the car first.

Team D,

It's their SWAT team number.

At this time, there was a faint continuous roar in the sky. As the huge roar got closer and closer, everyone looked up and saw a helicopter hovering above, with the letters CBS printed on it.

Fred immediately cursed in his heart: Damn CBS, what the hell are these guys doing.

He knows best that these media, like sharks that smell blood, will appear wherever incidents break out.

Looking at this situation, it must be a live broadcast.

Live broadcast, Fred immediately put away the idea of ​​using Qiang just now. This matter is beyond his purview, so let's wait for it to be resolved.

The helicopter lowered the ladder, and a young female reporter climbed down skillfully and landed in the middle of the group of Indians, holding a microphone in her hand, and began to speak.

It seems that it is not easy to be a reporter, and sometimes you even have to have the skills of special forces.

At the same time, the figure of this beauty appeared on many TVs, and her sweet voice with a bit of wildness:

Everyone, I'm your old friend Linda, and I'm in the Downey neighborhood of Los Angeles, broadcasting live for you...

We can see that there are about 100 aborigines at the scene, and their request is very simple, they just want to return to their own land.

We all know that they were originally the owners of this land, but why can't the government meet their legitimate demands...

The reporter named Linda made a generous statement. For the TV station, from the perspective of the aborigines, it is politically correct.

The reason why we use the title of aborigines instead of Indians is also very particular, because the term Indians is inherently insulting.

After introducing the scene, Linda began to interview the aborigines. Some of them could speak English, and they all started to talk with their hands.

From the expressions on their faces, the audience could feel their inner anger across the TV screen.

Even the history of the story is a bit old, starting from several centuries ago, and it is estimated that it will not be finished until it is dark.

These aborigines are also very interesting. Some people say that the people next to them are not idle. They took out the very ancient musical instruments of their own people, whimpered, and played beside them, just like accompaniment.

The musical instruments in their hands include flutes and panpipes, okari similar to xun, and jungle drums, etc. The sound is far away and desolate.

Even on the streets of big cities, playing it seems to bring people into the vast forest.

Thinking about the tragic experiences of these aboriginal people, the music sounds even more desolate and desolate, making the audience in front of the TV feel lonely and tearful.

During the scene, Liu Qingshan also felt his nose was sore, and Sister Zhang, who was beside him, was already sobbing lowly.

There is also Lao Cui, who also has red eyes. Those of them who are engaged in music are all more emotional.

Old Cui twitched his nose hard: We really should do something!

Can you give them land? Big Sister Zhang retorted dissatisfiedly, with a heavy nasal voice, probably rubbing it just now.

Liu Qingshan suddenly opened his mouth: It is true that we cannot give them food and land, but we can make our own voices, to the government and the world!

Boss, you can't go. If we follow along, the nature will be different?

Sister Zhang doesn't look at her usual carelessness, but she can still handle the key issues clearly.

I'm talking about using music to make a sound, let's go and get on the stage that belongs to us!

Liu Qingshan has already taken a very firm footstep, while walking, giving them two, humming an ancient melody.

The melody is not complicated, the two have been immersed in music for a long time, and Lao Cui is a singer-songwriter, so it is not difficult to master.

It took a lot of effort for them to squeeze to the front, but there was still a row of heavily armed police in front of them, blocking the way.

Don't look at the fact that the police dare not provoke the aborigines. They are not polite to those who watch the fun. A special police officer pointed at Liu Qingshan and the three with wide eyes and shouted sharply: Stop your steps!

Liu Qingshan raised his hands high: We have a way to convince those aborigines.

You are also Indians? The SWAT looked at their complexion and wondered.

Liu Qingshan also nodded his head: Yes, we are aborigines who have integrated into modern society, but we have a common language.

The SWAT did not dare to make up their minds, and quickly reported to the sheriff.

Fred was also dubious, but looking at Sister Zhang's explosive head and Lao Cui's long hair, she felt that she had an Indian demeanor.

So after a simple search, the three aborigines were put in.

Anyway, now he has no other way, why don't he try it, what if he succeeds?

Are you also aboriginals, are you here to support your partners? A microphone poked in front of Liu Qingshan, and it was the host Linda who found new material and hurried over to interview.

Liu Qingshan really didn't know that the live broadcast was going on. He said noncommittally: I think everyone has the right to fight for survival and freedom.

When he appeared on TV, Liu Qingshan's old friend, Mr. Thomas, a famous car designer, was sitting on the sofa at home watching TV.

Suddenly seeing Liu Qingshan's figure on the screen, Thomas jumped up from the sofa:

Oh, it's incredible, Liu, my friend, when did you become an Indian?

And Xiao Li, who was in the innermost layer of the crowd, whistled vigorously: Liu, you said it well!

This guy has the temperament to fear that the world will not be chaotic, and he kept squeezing in. After being stopped by the special police, this guy still shouted:

I also have Aboriginal blood flowing through me. My grandmother was a great Aboriginal woman!

It is estimated that his blond grandmother would have to be half-assed and slapped with a cane if she watched TV.

The host Linda was also taken aback by Liu Qingshan's words: As expected of the aborigines who have received modern civilization education, she speaks with skill.

She was about to exchange a few more words, but saw that the three newcomers had already walked towards the old chief.

The old chief sat on the ground, looked at Liu Qingshan calmly, and said in English:

Children, thank you for your support, but you are not my clan, please leave this place of right and wrong.

With the eyes of the old man, he could of course see that although these three people were also of the yellow race, they were definitely not their clansmen.

Liu Qingshan bowed slightly: Elder, please allow us to use music to express our voice to the world.

After he finished speaking, he picked up a flute from the ground beside the old chief.

This is a musical instrument invented and used by the Indians, and is often called by them the gaina flute, which is a type of recorder.

On the other hand, Lao Cui asked for an Okari from an aborigines, tried it in his mouth, and quickly found out the tone.

This thing is somewhat similar to the ancient xun in Huaxia. It is the most primitive musical instrument and is easier to play.

Sister Zhang took a look and asked for a pan flute. There were also pan flutes in ancient China. In Qu Yuan's nine songs, there is such a verse, Whoever thinks when you blow.

The unevenness here refers to the panpipes, and the pipes of the panpipes are uneven.

What are these later natives going to do? The hostess Linda was a little strange, and quickly called the director of the scene to focus on the three of Liu Qingshan.

I saw the three slowly sitting on the ground, in the shape of a character. Liu Qingshan was in the middle and slowly raised the Gaina flute: This song is dedicated to the last Mohican people.

The Mohicans, a branch of the Indians, were almost wiped out because of massacres.

Liu Qingshan originally liked this piece very much. He even bought the Gaina flute online and practiced it specially.

But now because of martial arts, the breath is longer and thicker, and it is more handy to play.

The desolate and distant sound of the Guyana flute sounded, and then the voices of the pan flute and Okari gradually blended in.

The surrounding people only felt a vast and ancient aura of ancient times blowing towards them, as if it was a call from ancient times.

With the mournful tune, all the Indians present burst into tears. This music, like the ancient ancestors, is calling the soul of every Indian descendant.

The old chief raised his head and looked up at the sky. He raised his palms, palms facing the sky, and slowly knelt on the ground.

The clansmen did not dare to neglect, they all made the same gesture.

They would not bow down to anyone, and even the butcher knives of the invaders never made them succumb.

They are bowing down to their ancestors, bowing down to this ancient nation, the glory, humiliation, slaughter, and tragic they have experienced...

In Liu Qingshan's chest, there seemed to be a fire surging, and the Gina flute in his hand seemed to be cracked by him.

Hey ya ya ya...

In Liu Qingshan's mouth, he screamed suddenly, as desolate as a wolf.

Hundreds of Indians, their souls seemed to be on fire, shouted in unison: Hey, ah, ah, ah...

Whether it was the people present or the audience in front of the TV, their bodies trembled involuntarily, and a layer of goose bumps appeared on the surface of the skin.

In the depths of everyone's heart, there seems to be something ignited.

In front of the TV, I don't know how many viewers, followed by unwilling roars and sad shouts.

Beside Xiao Li, Mr. Jackson from the record company also raised his hands and screamed hard until he was exhausted.

His chest heaved violently, and he muttered to himself, This is music you need to listen to on your knees!

The performance of Liu Qingshan and the three of them continued, as if they were telling the rise and fall of a nation.

Everyone has their own country and nation, so they all feel the same way and are deeply moved by the music.

Old Cui and Sister Zhang, who played with Liu Qingshan, had more personal experience. They could feel that the boss's playing skills were actually very poor, that is, the level of entry was much worse than theirs.

However, such a tune does not require any technique at all, it is the movement of the soul.

In their minds, a brand new world of music slowly opened its doors.

Both of them have a feeling that this experience will make them enter the hall and enter the higher music hall...

I don't know how long it took, as if it had experienced a long history of rise and fall of a nation.

I don't know how long Liu Qingshan and the others have stopped playing, but everyone is still immersed in the atmosphere just now.

It wasn't until they saw that the old chief led the clan and bowed slightly to Liu Qingshan and the three of them, and the people didn't react.

No one applauded, no one cheered, and everyone present bowed slightly.

It seems that the only way to express the admiration in their hearts.

Liu Qingshan also returned the salute to the old chief: Elder, now you can take your clan to return to your gathering place and wait for the news.

The old chief nodded, his eyes full of vicissitudes of life, full of tears, and full of smiles:

Thank you, our friends, you are welcome to visit us, you will always be our friends.

The old chief finally led his clan to leave. They were walking in a modern city, and their backs gradually merged into the crowd of cars. They looked so desolate and so tragic...