If only he were just injured.
Jiang Jingshan felt a dull ache in his heart, and his thoughts suddenly flew back to that day. The massive explosion rang out, billowing smoke brought searing waves of heat that sent him flying and crashing to the ground, his skin severely burned.
Wave after wave of explosions nearly tore his eardrums apart.
He shook his head lightly, emerging from the tumultuous storm, his eyes reddening:
"No, sister-in-law, Jinghuai… he's fallen."
Fallen—these two words signify glory, the highest honor for a soldier. But to Jiang Jingshan as family, fallen meant something far beyond honor—it meant death.
Life, when resilient, can be extraordinarily tough, yet when it departs, it takes but a moment.
Were it not the irrevocable truth, he truly wouldn't want to believe it.
"What did you say…"
Tian Sangsang staggered backward, nearly collapsing to the side.
A thunderous roar—her mind was about to explode.
