Chapter 65: Repercussions

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A single shout of "Salute!" pierced the heavens.

It broke through the defenses of Li Wanxiao’s heart, and shook the soul of everyone present.

Li Wanxiao wept; Tan Jin’er wept; little Niannian wept; Xiaoxier, Xiao Qiuer, and Xiaobai wept as well.

Though these little ones could not yet grasp the full meaning behind that word “Salute,” such solemnity, such force in the call, struck their tender hearts in ways they could not name.

There was sadness, awe, and a deep sense of moving gratitude.

“Sister-in-law, forgive us. We can only visit the Captain rarely, but he lives forever in our hearts! He is our role model, our eternal Captain!”

“No, no, please don’t apologize.”

Tears glistened in Li Wanxiao’s eyes, yet her face glowed with comfort and joy. She looked at each uniformed figure before her, the “Blue Friends” whose shapes slowly overlapped with the memory of that beloved silhouette, and spoke gently:

“I know your work is busy, exhausting, and arduous. No need for all this. Please take care of yourselves when you’re on duty.”

“Thank you, Sister-in-law!”

The “Blue Friends” departed. As they passed Yang Qing, their Captain paused and lightly patted Yang Qing’s shoulder, whispering:

“Thank you.”

Yang Qing was momentarily stunned, watching the departing group, unable to recover himself for a long while.

“Auntie, I am the child whom Papa Ma saved from the fire. I’m about to graduate from middle school. I brought all the awards I’ve received this semester—I want Papa Ma to know that the little girl he rescued has grown up.”

At this moment, a girl with a large sunhat, her little face marked by scars from burns, ran to Li Wanxiao, tears trembling in her voice.

“Thank… thank you.”

Li Wanxiao gently stroked the scars on the young girl’s face, moved beyond words. “You are a good child, an excellent child. He… he would be proud of you, he would be so happy for you.”

“Mm-hmm, Auntie, we must be strong. Papa Ma’s spirit in heaven will surely bless us.”

“Yes!”

One by one, the mourners bid farewell to Li Wanxiao and left, each whispering thanks to Yang Qing or Xiao Chuner as they departed.

“It was your song that awakened our memories, that stirred our conscience, reminding us not to forget—our savior was a hero, a martyr! So… thank you!”

These were the words of a stooped elder, the last to leave, spoken quietly into Yang Qing’s ear.

Only then did Yang Qing suddenly realize, it was the song that had unknowingly moved his heart.

To be awakened by a song meant that, deep down, they had never truly forgotten. Kindness had never vanished.

Before Niannian’s father’s grave, a photo affixed to the stone showed him in uniform—his features resolute and handsome, his gaze filled with determination and gentle warmth.

Flowers had been placed in front of the grave. Xiao Qiuer, Xiaoxier, and Xiaobai carefully set their own blossoms there.

Then came Xiao Chuner, Xiao Xiaer, Jin’er, and Yang Qing.

After the rites, Niannian and the little boy Ma Minghao walked forward hand in hand.

“Papa, Niannian has come to see you. Niannian misses you so much. Niannian has three wonderful friends, look, this is Xier…”

Niannian, with her childish voice, introduced her dear friends to her father, then stepped forward and gently kissed the photo on the gravestone.

That was the one she missed most, loved most, and could never see again.

“Papa, Xiao Hao is a big kid now, a real man. Xiao Hao will protect his sister and mother. When Xiao Hao grows up, he wants to be a hero just like you. Papa, you will always be Xiao Hao’s pride!”

Listening to the children’s words, Li Wanxiao quietly lifted her gaze to the clear blue sky. A distant white cloud drifted overhead, as if he were watching from within that cloud… listening…

…

“Jin’er, take Xier back to the shop first, try to rest early, today was exhausting.”

Leaving the Martyrs’ Cemetery and returning to the city, after bidding farewell to Li Wanxiao and her daughters, Yang Qing spoke to Tan Jin’er.

“Mm…” Tan Jin’er hesitated. “What about you, aren’t you coming back?”

“Not yet,” Yang Qing said softly. “Qiuer and the others miss Grandma. I’ll take them to visit her.”

“Oh.”

Tan Jin’er nodded quietly. After a moment’s silence, she looked at Yang Qing with earnest eyes.

“Brother Qing, you once said that Xier and I are your sisters, part of this family. Did you mean it?”

“Of course!” Yang Qing nodded solemnly.

“Good,” Tan Jin’er smiled, her face brightening. “Then Xier and I should visit Grandma too.”

She turned to Xier, whose hand was held by Xiaobai and Xiao Qiuer, and spoke gently:

“Xier, let’s go see Grandma with Brother Qing and the others, shall we?”

“Yes!” Xier nodded her little head, then turned to Xiao Qiuer: “Qiuer, can I go see Grandma with you?”

Qiuer said nothing, her big eyes blinking as she looked at Yang Qing.

“Well… alright, thank you.”

Yang Qing nodded in agreement. Instantly, Xier bounced in delight, flashing her sister a triumphant look before she began circling Qiuer, asking questions left and right.

“Qiuer, do you think Grandma will like Xier…”

…

“Qiuer, Xier has secretly saved a big strawberry. Shall I give it to Grandma…”

“Qiuer…”

The little ones chirped and chattered, prompting Xiaobai to grow irritated, smacking her hand over Xier’s mouth, muffling her words.

They took a taxi westward—the grandmother’s grave lay at the city’s western edge. Grandma had once said the west was where her youth was buried, the distant place she longed for but could never return to.

The car drove to the outskirts, then down a secluded path. Grandma was buried on this small hill; when she passed, Yang Qing had no money, none to buy her a proper plot.

The car stopped. Yang Qing carried Xiaodonger ahead, followed quietly by the others and Tan Jin’er.

Xier fell silent too, for upon arriving, she saw Qiuer’s eyes were red, as were her older sisters Xiaer and Chuner.

In silence, step by step, they approached a small mound. Before it stood a stone, shaded by a poplar tree whose green leaves fluttered in the breeze.

“Bang!”

Before the stone, Yang Qing knelt heavily, and at that, Qiuer and the others could no longer hold back their tears.

“Grandma…”

…

As dusk fell, people who had toiled all day seized these moments of leisure to do as they pleased—some played games, some cajoled girlfriends, some hid from their wives, some watched dramas, and some browsed the news.

At seven o’clock, the national news aired, and those who watched were stunned. In Sun City, people cried out, “Amazing!”

All because of a three-minute news segment.

The anchor said: “Yesterday, Sun City Hope Elementary School held a joyful children’s festival performance. One child’s song has gone viral, amassing over a billion views overnight. Why? Let’s listen together…”

The song played, and Chun’er’s clear voice once again struck the hearts of every viewer.

Anchor: “This is the sublimation of love, a patriotic, heroic devotion. It is the new generation’s cry for self-improvement. Inspired by this song, today, cemeteries for martyrs across the country have seen crowds gathering spontaneously to pay tribute and remember.

At the same time, sites commemorating those who resisted invaders have welcomed large numbers of visitors from all over the country…”

The three-minute report ended, but people remained deeply shaken.

A… a song sung by a primary school child had been featured on national news!

And because of this song, a nationwide spontaneous movement to honor heroes and martyrs had begun!

This… is madness!