Xu Anbang's final roar struck Lin Tiejun's heart like a sledgehammer!
In that instant, he could no longer hold himself together. Hot tears streamed from his clouded old eyes.
He thought of Yue Qinhu, of the brothers who had died on the battlefield, of the scars and medals covering his own body.
Their generation had paid with their lives for peace, yet they could not even secure the honor their heroes deserved after death!
All that frustration, resentment, and grief burst through the floodgates at Xu Anbang's furious roar!
Seeing him like this, Xu Anbang merely patted his shoulder gently, his commanding presence slowly subsiding.
In its place came boundless emotion and warmth.
"All right, stop crying."
"Our heroes' blood won't have been shed in vain."
He helped Lin Tiejun sit on the living room sofa before asking further, his voice carrying a barely perceptible tremor.
"Tell me, how is Brother Qinhu now? His descendants... are they all doing well?"
At the mention of this, the tears Lin Tiejun had just stopped almost welled up again.
He fought back the ache and told him everything.
"He's still fairly strong, physically. It's just..."
Lin Tiejun paused, forcing the words out with difficulty. "It's just that his mind is muddled. He has dementia. There are so many things he can't remember anymore."
"Dementia..."
Xu Anbang swayed slightly.
That peerless general who had once directed battles with masterful precision, annihilating enemy fleets while chatting and laughing-could he no longer hold on even to his memories?
Lin Tiejun did not stop. He continued:
"The old regimental commander has three sons."
"His eldest, Yue Zhangkong, was a hero too. When his plane malfunctioned and was heading toward a residential area, he gave up his chance to eject and steered it into a mountain!"
"His second