"The students have been accumulating their own merits, little by little, to clear Old Shi's name with a towering mountain of achievements!"
"Among these... many of the letters have already become relics of the dead. Many students died on the battlefield without so much as a keepsake on them... Many families came here, and I found the students' letters for them to take home, to serve as one last remembrance."
Grandma Shi smiled bitterly. "They were good children, all of them. Such good children... What a pity. What a pity..."
Zuo Xiaoduo sighed softly.
Looking at the portrait, at those brilliantly shining eyes beneath Principal Shi's sword-like brows, he felt an extraordinary heaviness in his heart!
His heart felt so stifled that it seemed about to burst.
"All these years, I've read letters to Old Shi every evening. That was his favorite thing to do when he was alive: brew a cup of fragrant tea, then quietly read his students' letters in the study. Sometimes military medals arrived with the letters. When reading them made him happy, he would call me out to cook a few dishes and warm a pot of good wine."
"So now, every evening, I read him a few letters, warm a pot of good wine, and cook a few dishes."
"Nothing brought him more joy, weighed more heavily on his mind, or filled his thoughts more than those children."
"This old woman has stayed alive all this time. Even when people hurl abuse in my face when I go out, I won't die. I must live. I must live to see the day this grievous injustice is redressed."
"I must see the murderers and kill them with my own hands. Otherwise, if I die, I won't be able to bring the news from this side