The bright and beautiful sunlight slowly turned hot. The mist in the morning finally dissipated. The wind blew past the mountain and blew away the tears on Ye Jian's face. She looked at her father who was still hugging her mother's tombstone tightly. He had endless words to say.
The birds flew lightly from the green pine trees that looked like guardians guarding the martyrs' cemetery. A small shadow flashed across the sky, leaving behind a series of clear chirps and Dad's low and light words.
After kneeling and talking for a long time, Mr. Fu finally let go of the tombstone. At this moment, the tombstone wasn't cold. It was warm because of Mr. Fu's body temperature. It seemed to have warmed up the black and white photo of Sun Xueqing.
"After saying so much, you must be very annoyed. I can't help it. Red Plum, I have so many things I want to tell you. Please take care of me like before.
