The Great Xia Kingdom had long been prepared to welcome the returning heroic spirits. At the county station bordering the Great Xia Kingdom and the Northern Dynasty, before the first rays of sunlight had completely fallen in the morning, the highest military official, the highest commander of this campaign, Zhang Jun, and people from all levels of the Great Xia military and political circles had already arrived.

Reporters from official media were testing their equipment, ready to record this solemn and sad moment. The families of the fallen soldiers, with tears and expectations in their eyes, leaned against each other, holding photos of their loved ones tightly in their hands. People from all over also gathered here spontaneously, holding flowers in their hands with solemn expressions.

Time passed second by second, the sun rose gradually, people were waiting anxiously, their mood became heavier.

At noon, the sound of a train finally came from the distance. The sound came closer and closer, like the footsteps of the returning heroes. Everyone's expression suddenly became solemn, and the low conversations suddenly stopped.

Zhang Jun straightened his uniform, straightened his back, and looked firmly in the direction the train was coming from. Military and political officials at all levels also stood straighter, with solemn and serious expressions.

Reporters held their microphones and cameras tightly in their hands, ready to convey this historic moment to the people of the country.

The families of the fallen soldiers trembled slightly, tears welled up in their eyes, but they held back their grief, wanting to greet their loved ones' return with the strongest attitude.

The people bowed their heads silently and prayed for the heroic spirits who were about to return.

The train slowly pulled into the station with thick smoke and roars. The friction between the wheels and the rails seemed particularly heavy at this moment, as if every sound was striking people's hearts.

When the train came to a complete stop, the entire station fell into silence, with only the sound of wind blowing gently, as if mourning for the heroes.

After a moment of silence, Zhang Jun took the lead and walked towards the train with heavy and firm steps. Military and political figures at all levels followed closely behind him, and their footsteps echoed in the empty station, breaking the silence.

The train door slowly opened, and the first thing that came into view was a row of coffins covered with national flags. Zhang Jun's eyes instantly moistened, and he saluted solemnly, saying with a slightly trembling voice: "Heroes, go home!"

The family members could no longer suppress their grief and cried one after another. They rushed forward, trying to touch the cold coffin, as if this would bring them closer to their loved ones. An old mother fell on her son's coffin, crying heartbreakingly: "Son, why did you leave like this..." The people around her hurriedly supported her, and everyone's face was covered with tears.

The people silently placed the flowers in their hands beside the coffin, forming a sea of ​​flowers. They sobbed softly, muttering: "Rest in peace, heroes."

The reporters held back their tears and recorded this heartbreaking scene. They knew that these images would be broadcast all over the country, allowing every Daxia citizen to remember these brave and fearless warriors.

In the sad atmosphere, the soldiers carefully carried the coffin off the train. Each step was so heavy and so slow. The sunlight shone on the coffin, and the bright national flag was even more dazzling.

Zhang Jun walked up to the family members, held their hands tightly, and said in a choked voice: "They are the pride of their country and the heroes of their people. Their sacrifice will not be in vain."

The family members nodded with tears in their eyes, their eyes showing both the pain of losing their loved ones and the pride in their loved ones' heroic behavior.

Then, with solemn music playing, the hearse slowly started and drove towards the Martyrs Cemetery. On both sides of the road, people spontaneously lined up and stood, holding the national flag in their hands, watching the heroic spirits go away.

In the sky, a few white pigeons flew by, as if they were seeing off the heroes. On this day, the whole county was immersed in grief and respect. People will always remember these warriors who bravely sacrificed their lives for the country and peace.

At the Martyrs' Cemetery, the honor guard had already been waiting in a solemn formation. They stood tall, looked solemn, and looked firmly ahead. Countless people gathered from all directions and waited here early. They held flowers tightly in their hands, their faces solemn, and the scene was so quiet that you could hear the occasional sob.

When the vehicle carrying the remains of the martyrs slowly arrived, everyone's eyes were focused on it. With the orderly and heavy steps of the First Army soldiers, the coffins were carefully carried out of the vehicle one by one. The soldiers' eyes were full of grief and determination, and their movements were gentle and steady, as if they were carrying the most precious treasure in the world.

Afterwards, the coffin was handed over to the guards. They took it in a standard posture, marched in unison, and slowly carried the coffin into the Martyrs' Cemetery. Each of their steps was steady and powerful, and the sunlight shone on them, reflecting their firm figures.

The coffins were placed in front of the cemetery that had been prepared long ago, arranged in an orderly manner, just like the strict military formation of the martyrs during their lifetime. The breeze blew gently, bringing a sense of solemn tranquility.

Zhang Jun walked forward with heavy steps, his voice trembling slightly because of grief, but full of strength: "Dear comrades, dear martyrs, today, with great sorrow and respect, we send you off for the last time. On that battlefield full of flames, you charged and fell into the battle line without retreating. You wrote a magnificent chapter with your blood, defended the dignity of the country with your life, and guarded the peace of the people. Your heroic deeds will be recorded in history forever, and your spirit of dedication will be forever engraved in our hearts. The motherland will not forget, the people will not forget, you are the eternal heroes!"

After saying this, Zhang Jun bent down deeply and bowed solemnly, tears welling up in his eyes. The military and political officials behind him also bowed their heads in silence, and the atmosphere at the scene became more solemn.

Then, a burst of neat gunshots suddenly rang out, breaking the brief silence. The crisp gunshots echoed over the cemetery, like the last hymn for the martyrs. Amid the passionate gunshots, the coffin was slowly placed in the cemetery, and piles of yellow soil fell gently, gradually burying the coffin.

Unable to suppress their grief and respect, the people came forward one after another. They gently placed the clean white flowers in their hands in front of the tomb, piling up into a sea of ​​flowers. Some people knelt for a long time, clasped their hands together, and prayed silently; some people touched the tombstones with trembling hands, whispering endless thoughts and gratitude. The entire Martyrs' Cemetery was immersed in a sad and solemn atmosphere, and the sky was covered with dark clouds, which was so depressing that it was hard to breathe, as if the heavens were also crying for these brave martyrs.

From now on, this brand new Martyrs Cemetery will become a sacred place for people to remember the martyrs and commemorate history. The spirits of the martyrs are like bright stars, immortalized on this land, illuminating the way forward for future generations.