In the middle of the flowers on the ground, there is a bright red carpet, extending a hundred feet from the outside all the way inside, completely covering the ground.
The entire floor of the Guardian Hall is laid with a red carpet.
A mountain of flowers and a sea of blooms, fragrant and rich.
Twenty-four elderly Martial Artists who have served in the Baiyun State Guardian Hall for over sixty years greet guests at the door. They recognize many people.
When they see a family mber, they can generally call out each person’s na accurately, and then the deacon responsible for recording ticks a checkmark, while two others co by to escort them inside.
Continuing to the next... or the next family.
In front of the Guardian Hall, there are two massive couplets.
The upper couplet reads: "With loyal hearts and iron bones, the continent’s glory is cast!"
The lower couplet reads: "Heroic spirit and grandeur protect a Baiyun State!"
Horizontal inscription: "Loyalty and heroism eternal!"
Upon entering the Guardian Hall, one is imdiately t by a gigantic stone. Its surface is smooth and square.
On all sides, nas are engraved densely.
Thick as a forest!
Each na is carved with a steel blade, each stroke clear and vivid, with hidden golden halberds, iron brushstrokes like silver hooks, awe-inspiring and magnificent, sharp and fierce!
It feels like a brigade of warriors at the battlefield, each still holding a gleaming steel blade!
The feeling that arises distinctly from the heart is "The heroic souls have perished, yet the weapons rest not!"
In front of the stone monunt, there is a huge incense burner, the smoke rising gracefully.
Every family mber who enters is eagerly searching for that familiar na on the stone monunt.
The mont they finally see it, their eyes redden suddenly, and tears start to fall drop by drop.
An elderly woman, almost bald, stands tremblingly under the support of a Martial Artist clad in the robes of the Guardian Hall, her cloudy gaze fixed on a na, her eyes dazed.
"Little Seven... I finally see you again..."
The characters "Yan Xiaoqi" above are sharp and majestic, as if they were about to fly off into the air, into her eyes, into her heart.
"Little Seven, back then, ten days after our wedding, you ca to Baiyun State for duty. It’s been eighty-three years since we parted as husband and wife..."
Tears fall like rain from the old woman’s eyes: "Eighty-three years! I know you’ve found peace, but do you know how I made it through? It’s been eighty-three years, and your unseen son has already beco a Guardian, yet you still stand here, as sharp as ever!"
Pointing at the na with her finger, she speaks to her son beside her: "That’s... your father! Let him see you, you’re more successful than he was, at least alive and well. Light so incense for your father."
The middle-aged Martial Artist bows deeply, lights a stick of incense, respectfully inserts it into the incense ash in the burner, steps back, and bows again.
"Yan Xiaoqi, this is your son. I have lived up to you! When I die, I will accompany you. But I’m afraid by then, you will still be young and handso, and won’t think much of this old lady..."
She gazes dazedly, not turning her head, simply whispering: "Child, when mother dies, you must also co to the West Mountain Cetery. Rember that."
"... Mother will always live."
"I’ve lived enough... your father has waited for for eighty-three years..." The old woman shakes her head, looking once more with longing at her husband’s na, then turns to make way.
While walking, she continuously turns her head to look back.
When she finally enters the hall, she lets out a desolate sigh: this is the place where her husband worked while alive. She lovingly and tenderly strokes the walls, tables, and chairs, as if feeling for any remnants of her husband’s presence...
Nurous people stop in front of the great stone.
Incense is offered.
Tang Zheng’s mother, supported by her sister, also arrives, sees the na Tang Zheng at the bottom. The old woman, with reddened eyes, gently touches the na with her hand.
"Zheng’er... are you getting used to it over there? Have a wife now, don’t be so timid anymore, discuss more with your wife when sothing cos up. If you miss mother, just co to visit in a dream... Mother misses you too, every day..."
She lights the incense in her hand, but does not place it, tears continually streaming: "I really don’t want to put the incense down. Once placed, it tells you and mother are in two worlds..."
Nearby, a thin old man squats on the ground, caressing a na, "Li Changxue."
Without saying a word, he just caresses tenderly.
Just as in the past when his son was young, he lovingly touched his son’s head.
"Your mother thought of you for thirty years... she went to find you last year, did you reunite?"
The old man’s wrinkles like furrows, his eyes showing so envy: "You have reunited... but you must wait for , I still need to see the grandchildren... when I go down there, I will report to your mother one by one..."
People continually walk up the red carpet, stop before the great stone, searching, muttering sothing.
More and more incense candles are being lit before the stone monunt.
In the swirling mist.
This massive stone seems to have beco imbued with so divinity, each na more vivid and lifelike, sharp and majestic, more solemn.
It seems that these ten thousand heroic souls have collectively returned, silently reuniting with their families.
Silently following alongside their families...
Jing Xiuyun busily moves about the entrance, suddenly pauses, walking directly forward: "President Ju, why have you co?"
Facing her, wearing the Steward Jinxing’s clothing, a tall woman with a long sword on her back and two golden stars on her collar, appearing neat and crisp, brimming with heroic spirit.
"I’m here to see Zuo Guanglie."
The ponytailed woman softly says.
At the entrance of the hall, Fang Che’s ears twitch, abruptly turning his head.
Yuan Jingjiang whispers: "That is Ju Xiu Shui, the Chief Steward of Baixiang Continent; related to Zuo Guanglie’s... consider her a lover, though it’s rather complicated. Both of them have very strong personalities."
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