Shu and the others stood in a line, at the place closest to the platform. Their eyes showed no sorrow, no anger, just an unwavering calm, tranquility like water. But everyone knew that beneath these calm gazes lay a raging inferno.
The last glimmer of light at the horizon was swallowed by darkness. Wang Hanyu, who was standing with Shu, took a step forward, his face expressionless, holding a torch in his hand, his calm gaze fixed on Zhou Chu's serene face.
"Zhou Chu, rest in peace." A simple sentence, Wang Hanyu raised his hand and tossed the torch away.
