Dressed in casual clothes and having just rushed over, Zhang Zhongting hadn’t replied when Political Commissar Cheng had already spoken.
"End of ceremony! Everyone aboard!"
"Go ahead, give the squad leader a proper send-off."
Zhang Zhongting patted Fang Huai on the shoulder, glanced at the hearse, sighed deeply to express his regret, then turned and boarded a car, heading towards his next destination.
He was not responsible for receiving the hearse, but even amidst his busy schedule, he made ti to co for a look; however, he couldn’t stay long, for there were more lives waiting to be saved by him.
Fang Huai followed onto the vehicle, where the Special Duty Squad comrades, all old soldiers, sat with solemn and serious faces, none of them crying.
However, as they exited the intersection and saw the crowds on both sides, everyone started to tear up.
They hadn’t seen the spectacular scene as the hearse set off from its starting point.
They equally didn’t witness what was being broadcast on TV.
But as the vehicle started to move out, the road stretched for dozens of ters on both sides, cramd with people.
On one side of the road, soone was holding a banner.
"The ten li hotown welcos ho a hero! Saluting the hero Wang Yunkun!"
Everyone was waving their hands in farewell.
If the person in the black hearse had a soul, he would likely feel the warmth of all those converging gazes.
Because Fang Huai felt it, and the soldiers in the eleven accompanying fire trucks from two squadrons, they all felt it too.
Those looks contained real warmth; the car windows might have blocked the sound, but they couldn’t block the concern and regret in the eyes of the people.
On the roadside, there were several old n standing together, dressed in green military uniforms from the 60s, wearing hats, and brown ard belts, saluting for a long ti.
"I feel like my soul has been uplifted by their gazes," soone in the vehicle said half-jokingly.
" too, really." Fang Huai replied involuntarily as he looked out the window.
Perhaps before, everyone was indignant about why he was not awarded the title of martyr, paying more attention to the honor and treatnt of firefighters.
But at this mont, everyone felt a piercing sadness in their hearts for that comrade, whether they knew him or not.
The people, they thought less, perhaps didn’t know what a martyr was, what it ant to die in the line of duty; they only knew that the young man had sacrificed his life to save a child. So, they were sending him off in their own way.
...
The funeral ho.
"My baby... my baby..."
"Yunkun... why were you so foolish!"
Next to the ice coffin, full of wreaths sent from various units, were also many yellow and white flowers arranged to form the character "tribute."
At the end of the ice coffin, a half-length military portrait of Wang Yunkun stood, quietly watching the two won kneeling in front of the coffin, unable to cry.
Wang Yunkun’s father was sitting on a bench to the side, wiping away tears, while leaders from various units who had arrived took turns coming up to offer condolences, guided by the governnt staff, and he just nodded in acknowledgnt.
"This is the father of the hero Wang Yunkun, Uncle Wang. This is Director Liu from the Finance Departnt."
"Condolences... Wang Yunkun was a good comrade."
"Thank you, thank you for coming... Thanks to the governnt."
During the 40 days that Wang Yunkun was in rescue, he had probably anticipated this situation and did not let his emotions collapse. He managed to speak calmly with the people who ca, maintaining composure for his family.
But every ti soone praised his son, he couldn’t help but shed tears.
The hall was filled with scattered people everywhere, relatives, firefighters from the provincial city, people from various units.
The only organized group was a table of young people, many of whom had tearful eyes as they talked about the foolish things Wang Yunkun had done before he enlisted and the many tis he had drunk heavily.
Ye Jiahong stood three ters away from the coffin, silently looking at the photo in front of the hearse, with tears continuously rolling down his face.
Tardy in their arrival were the mbers of Wang Yunkun’s Squadron. They must have cried in the car for a while, as the area around everyone’s eyes was red.
Hearing a familiar voice, Ye Jiahong turned around and saw the row of people in military uniforms walking in. His emotions finally broke, and he yelled:
"How could this be? Why has he gone? Wasn’t it said that the situation was still good, that there was a good chance he would wake up?! Why didn’t anyone tell ?"
Leading the group, a Third-term Non-commissioned Officer who had just managed to compose himself began to tremble in both his face and voice:
"Last night...it was still good...in the middle of the night...they started to resuscitate again... by the ti we got to the hospital, he was gone, gone..."
"Ah!!" Ye Jiahong scread, the two n hugged each other, crying while vigorously patting each other’s backs.
The others rushed up as well.
A group of burly n in uniform stood in the center of the hall, huddled together, bowing their heads and weeping.
People around them sighed one after another.
These passionate young n are the firefighters in dark blue and orange uniforms who first spot fires and accidents on the streets. When you encounter them on the road, you only see their bravery, but today, you also witness their vulnerability.
Wang Yunkun’s childhood friends stopped their chatter and watched that group of soldiers, finally understanding why Wang Yunkun did not return ho for vacation every year, and why whenever they called him to go out for a drink, he was always away, visiting his comrades who had been assigned to different places.
It turns out that in the military, he had already made so many friends who could weep bitterly for him.
All the emotions and expressions in the hall were captured by Fang Huai, who stood to the side, lost in thought.
He didn’t share mories with Wang Yunkun, and although they were comrades, he didn’t have such overwhelming feelings of sadness to suppress—just admiration.
And if one could put aside emotions and just observe, it would be hard not to reflect on one’s own life: the deeds done, the people loved, the brevity of life, and the length of days gone by.
The small bed slept in from the earliest mories, the green playfields, the education from parents, growing up in school, the romances had, friends made, sins committed, and acts of kindness perford.
He once saw a heart-wrenching little online ga called "Your Na."
A person, a pen, a piece of paper.
Write down the nas of everyone you’ve t since you began keeping mories.
When you arrange these nas along a tiline, you’ll find that each na represents a Chapter of your story, an experience.
So are no longer with us, leaving a sour feeling as you write; so have betrayed you, bringing bitterness to your heart; so were once close but have vanished in the river of ti; and so are still by your side.
When you take the ti to write these nas down from beginning to end, it feels like you’re reliving your life.
This sensation is called "life review."
In a 2001 dical research published in The Lancet, a large follow-up study was conducted on people who were resuscitated after cardiac arrest:
What did they see in their last few minutes of life?
Thirteen percent of the subjects ntioned this "life review" phenonon, where the regrets and what-ifs of life unfold before their eyes.
Perhaps the brain, in the final monts of life, helps extract mories, allowing people to relive life’s pivotal and beautiful monts.
Fang Huai, right here and now, was re-experiencing just that.
As these mories flashed continuously in his mind.
Cao Yi approached him and broke the silence:
"Fang Huai, you are full of ideas; help think of a way to persuade Captain Ye. He’s the captain, responsible for thirty brothers in his squadron, but here he is, throwing a tantrum and acting emotional, insisting on fundraising and staying here for three days.
The Brigade Grand Drill has been postponed by two days, but we need to start preparing the day after tomorrow. The Grand Martial Arts Competition is also coming up, and he’s over here talking nonsense—what’s he thinking?"
Cao Yi probably complained because he trusted Fang Huai and knew that as a new recruit, Fang Huai had no relationship with Wang Yunkun.
In front of others like Hao Chengbin and so old soldiers, he wouldn’t dare say such things; they might think he was inhumane.
But the recent work pressure was indeed too great, and with Ye Jiahong now dropping the ball on him, he had to vent to soone who could understand his emotions.
And to his surprise, he found that person among the new recruits.
Fang Huai smiled and said, "Instructor, if you want a firefighter to work, just ring the alarm bell and get him on the fire truck, why persuade?"
Cao Yi rolled his eyes, "Stop talking nonsense. If you ring the alarm bell here, you won’t live to see another day, beware the families might kill you."
Fang Huai gave him a look and coughed:
"Instructor Cao, can I say sothing honest, do you want to hear it?"
Cao Yi looked at Fang Huai with surprise, "Go ahead."
Fang Huai crossed his hands behind his back and said, "Ultimately, you’re too domineering. Normally, you should let Captain Ye be more involved in the squadron’s day-to-day tasks, get closer to the squadron. Look how attached they are to him.
Captain Ye may not be the commanding officer in that squadron, but he might have a stronger presence. Look how much of the work you’ve taken over, leaving him with no sense of responsibility.
Captain Ye is not that old, and he’s unmarried, so it’s normal for him to throw a fit.
If you let a bunch of kids without a mother cry around him for three days, he’ll understand what responsibility feels like."
Cao Yi turned his head in surprise, "Wow, I’ve realized that not only do you learn quickly, the thoughts in your head are quite mature too."
Fang Huai at this mont exuded the relaxed smile of a middle-aged man, feeling relieved, and said sothing Cao Yi didn’t quite understand.
"I’ve been a child for too long. Having just witnessed life and death, I suddenly feel like I’ve lived for decades. I suddenly realize I have many regrets, but don’t worry, once we leave this funeral ho, I’ll still be a young, passionate soldier."
"Slap."
A slap landed on the back of Fang Huai’s head.
Cao Yi’s mouth was twitching.
"You’re getting too big for your britches. So, do you have a solution or not? I need a solution that works now! Stop giving advice!"
"Sss..."
Fang Huai rubbed the back of his head, feeling his old soul slapped back into place by Cao Yi’s hand, and with a grimace, he said:
"Alright, alright, I’ll take care of it when we get back, okay?"
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