Seeing Niu Rang's corpse, He Zhilan didn't know if accompanying him in this way could make his passage a bit more comforting.
"Niu Rang, rest assured, I have handed the gun over to Xing Ye. I believe the army won't let you sacrifice in vain. Your contribution is not fruitless," but even so, He Zhilan still couldn't accept that a living person had suddenly left this world, and this person was someone she was so familiar with.
When daylight came, Bian Xiulin hurried over upon hearing the news. When she arrived, there were many police officers in the morgue apart from He Zhilan, and the white cloth covering Niu Rang's body had been replaced with a bright red national flag.
It was a privilege reserved for martyrs, only they may rest under the national flag.
"Are you okay?" Although Bian Xiulin did not know Niu Rang, she was quite worried when she saw He Zhilan's reddened eyes. She knew that He Zhilan had not rested all night and had even been out in the rain.
