After listening to Ye Wanlan's story, Jun Muqian nodded and couldn't help but sigh longingly: "I see, such heroism, departing like this, truly leaves one with a heavy heart."
Ying Zijin lowered her head, clearly stirred up by some memories.
She slowly closed and opened her eyes, whispering, "Protect the home, guard the nation, safeguard the world..."
Simple seven words, yet they carry the weight of life.
Each stroke is built with flesh and blood.
Si Fqing held Ye Wanlan tightly: "Sister..."
When she was very young, she sometimes wondered why Ye Wanlan often spaced out late at night.
Turns out, Ye Wanlan was also longing for her former relatives.
Unexpectedly returning to Shenzhou, only to hear the shocking news that friends and family had died in battle three hundred years ago, how much pain must that have been?
Ye Wanlan raised her hand, gently patted her back, and smiled: "It's okay, it's all in the past."
