Chapter 43: This Prosperous Era Is Just As You Wished!

The atmosphere inside the studio had reached the absolute peak of oppression.

Faint, muffled sobs could be heard from the audience seats.

No one spoke. The air seemed to have solidified, thick with an undissolvable sorrow and reverence.

Gaze after gaze fell upon Ye Yuan.

It was as if everyone, looking through Ye Yuan, could see those young and vibrant lives on the ridge of the mountain pass, smiling in reconciliation as they faced their final moments.

Everyone was content.

Because they had flawlessly and brilliantly carried out Ye Yuan’s orders.

They had held this most crucial node.

Even though all of them were about to die, not a single person felt fear.

The future that they would not get to see would be witnessed by the generations to come.

Everything they could not enjoy would be recounted to them by future generations before their monuments and the martyrs' cemetaries.

Perhaps they would even sing together in unison.

Perhaps that singing would be out of tune.

Yet that song would surely soar like a dragon's roar, reaching up to the highest heavens and down to the netherworld, echoing across the entire world.

At the very final moment of their lives.

Everyone forced themselves up, dragging themselves to the crumbling red flag, using their own hands and bodies to build a flesh-and-blood Great Wall.

Down in the audience, Ye Yan'an was already bathed in tears.

With blurred vision, she looked at Ye Yuan on the stage.

She suddenly realized.

She had never truly understood her grandfather.

The agony of losing a child...

Grandfather had endured it five times...

Or even six times!

Cong Gui bit down hard on his lips, wishing he could slap himself twice.

How could he have been so foolish as to ask why Ye Yuan did not have a family portrait!

In the live chat room.

Text stopped scrolling as well.

A long time passed before sporadic messages finally began to appear.

"Tomorrow, I am going to the martyrs' cemetery to sweep the graves."

"I'm going too."

"Is anyone in Haihe? Let's go together."

"I am going to tell them how our country has grown step by step into a powerful nation."

"Today the country is prosperous and the people are at peace. Our nation will never be bullied by foreigners again!"

...

Sun Ting raised her hand, wiped the tears from her face, and looked at Ye Yuan.

Ye Yuan still remained like a statue.

Yet his reddened eye sockets proved that his heart was far from calm.

"I still have the only photo of Xiaobao and me here. Would you like to see it?"

Ye Yuan asked softly.

Sun Ting looked at Ye Yuan in astonishment, her voice tentative, "C... Can I?"

Ye Yuan nodded slightly, then reached into his pocket, took out a notebook, and pulled a photograph from inside.

The photograph was black and white.

In it, a youthful Ye Yuan was embracing a mere teenager—an extraordinarily green and tender boy—while gazing directly into the lens.

Sun Ting reached out with both hands, took the photograph, and looked at the two figures upon it, while her tears flowed uncontrollably.

If Ye Bao were still alive, he would be around the same age as her father.

When she was a little girl, she could have sat beside Ye Bao, pestering him and asking: Uncle Ye, can you tell me about what happened back then?

Holding the photograph, Sun Ting stood up and turned it toward the camera, "My fellow audience members, the people in this picture are Grandpa Ye and Uncle Ye Bao when they were young."

"Salute!"

"Why is the wind today so strong, blowing the sand from outside into the room..."

"Great respect to Old Hero Ye and Hero Ye Bao!"

"The revolutionary spirit shall live forever!"

"Hero Ye Bao, this prosperous era is just as you wished!"

Countless people were frantically venting their emotions in the chat room.

Sun Ting returned to the sofa and handed the photograph back to Ye Yuan.

Ye Yuan carefully tucked the photograph back into his notebook and placed it into his pocket.

Finally, seemingly still uneasy, he raised a hand and patted the spot.

Sun Ting took a deep breath. Although her eyes still held tears, a proper and graceful smile appeared on her face, "Grandpa Ye, what exactly is recorded in this notebook? You seem to always carry it with you."

"And both the photo of you and Uncle Ye, as well as your letter of redress, are all kept inside it."

Ye Yuan nodded, "This... carries too many of my memories. I can tell you all about it in the future, but..."

"Isn't this episode of the program almost coming to an end?"

A single sentence jolted the director, who had been similarly immersed and lost track of time.

He glanced at the time and hurriedly made a hand gesture toward Sun Ting.

"Well, due to time constraints, we won't have Grandpa Ye show us the contents of this notebook today."

Sun Ting stood up, facing the camera, "I believe everyone in front of the screen is very curious about this notebook as well. In the next episode, we will have Grandpa Ye show us the contents of this notebook, which is of such great importance to him."

The program ended.

Although reluctant to leave, all the viewers filed out in orderly succession.

Once everyone had left the studio, Sun Ting looked at Ye Yuan with profound guilt, "Grandpa Ye, I'm sorry... I shouldn't have asked you about Uncle Ye on the show..."

Ye Yuan simply waved his hand, "It's fine to speak of it. Some things are much better said aloud than kept bottled up inside."

Hearing Ye Yuan's words, Sun Ting's heart felt slightly more at ease.

Ye Yuan, Wu Shanhe, and Ye Yan'an were personally escorted back home by Cong Gui.

As soon as they stepped through the door, Yanzi, with reddened eyes, pulled Ye Yan'an into the bedroom, and soon the faint sound of sobbing could be heard.

The two old men sat on the sofa, remaining silent for a long time.

After a while, Wu Shanhe broke the silence first, "Some things are indeed better said."

"Mm."

Ye Yuan nodded, "Xiaobao's death has always been a thorn in my heart, but I don't regret it. If it could all happen again, I would still give him the same answer."

"When I first met Xiaobao, he was only this tall, with bright eyes cut from the exact same mold as yours."

Wu Shanhe raised his hand to measure a height, "What a pity. In less than three months, he would have seen the foreign invaders driven out of our country, and seen them sign the instrument of surrender."

"There is nothing to pity."

Ye Yuan waved his hand, "The boy just didn't have that kind of fortune."

"You did. You're almost a hundred years old now. I genuinely have no idea how you managed to survive."

Wu Shanhe joked, "I'm several years younger than you, and now I suspect I might even end up going before you do."

"At our age, what's all this talk of dying or not dying."

Ye Yuan glanced at Wu Shanhe sideways, "Living a good life beats everything else. You aren't living just for yourself; you're living for all those brothers and comrades who died in battle."

"You must strive to live on, to witness all the changes in our country. Only in that way, when we finally die and meet them again in the future, can we tell them more of what we've witnessed."

"Mm."

Wu Shanhe slowly nodded, then asked again, "There are less than two months left until the military parade. This parade is extremely important—not only is it the 50th anniversary of the founding of the nation, but it's also the very last year before entering the twenty-first century."

"Are you going to go watch it?"