The sky outside the window was gray, as if even the sunlight couldn't bear to be too glaring and disturb this final moment.
The old man lay on the hospital bed, his once towering figure, capable of shouldering the responsibilities of an army soldier, now appearing unusually thin and frail under the white sheets.
With difficulty, he raised his hand to summon the high-ranking officers of the military region, his voice weak but exceptionally clear and firm: "Old men, remember what I said, and carry out our agreement..."
Several high-ranking officials had tears in their eyes, but they didn't forget to nod in agreement.
"We remember! We all remember! Our common ideal is to create a civilized society."
Let the weak not be afraid, let the strong not be arrogant, let power not be haughty, let society be more just, let the wicked fear doing evil, and let the good live in peace.
Children receive education, the young have access to learning, the sick receive medical care, and the elderly have a place to call home. A civilized and harmonious society where everyone respects one another!
"Don't worry, old leader, we will always keep our mission in mind and never forget it!"
"Yes! Lao Xiao, we're here! We can definitely make it happen!"
The group looked at their old friend with heavy hearts and suppressed grief. Wrinkles were etched on his weathered face, each telling a story of a turbulent past—the bitter cold of the snowy plains of the eastern province, the sandstorms of the southwestern border, the sleepless nights of countless emergency meetings, and the hidden wounds from his early battlefields that never fully healed and ultimately eroded his life.
Hearing the satisfactory reply, he chuckled and nodded, "Okay! Okay! Go ahead and get busy! Everyone, get busy!"
He forced himself not to close his eyes, fearing that if he did, he would never open them again; he wanted to wait for his great-grandchildren to return.
The group clenched their teeth tightly, trying not to let out a sob.
They exchanged a few words, and then, as if seeing an old friend, they left calmly.
But Bai Yajing, Xiao Che, and Xiao Yanqing all heard the suppressed sobs that broke out after they went outside.
The old man is very tired. Bai Yajing used the century-old ginseng that the old man gave him to keep him on his last breath. He knows this in his heart, so he doesn't say anything and is conserving his strength.
Everyone silently stayed by each other's side, waiting in tacit agreement.
Xiao Che and Xiao Yanqing each leaned against the edge of the bed, tightly holding the old man's two calloused, once steady and strong, but now withered and cold hands.
This hand once lifted them high when they were children, pointed to maps and taught them about mountains and rivers, and patted them heavily on the shoulder when they were confused, giving them silent but firm strength.
He raised both of them himself, and they are the ones who are most grieving right now.
Time passes.
The old man's breathing was extremely slow and labored. Each inhale was as if he were struggling to lift himself up from the deepest part of the earth, and each exhale was long and weak, as if he would stop breathing the next time.
This made everyone present very nervous.
After enduring a long night, just as dawn was breaking, there was a noise at the door.
The door was suddenly pushed open, and the two siblings, with dark circles under their eyes and looking disheveled, rushed in.
They had just gotten off the plane and were in the car that picked them up when they sped to the hospital. They climbed the stairs in one breath and ran to their ward without stopping.
She was still catching her breath, her eyes were red and swollen, and she called out to her great-grandfather in a hoarse voice.
"Great-Grandpa! We're back!"
"Great-Grandpa! My brother and I are back!"
Everyone gathered around the bed, trying to hold back their sobs, their eyes red-rimmed.
At this moment, Mr. Xiao simply pursed his lips tightly, his gaze fixed on his father, his eyes filled with reverence, reluctance, and immense grief.
Upon hearing the shout, Old Master Xiao's slightly narrowed eyes snapped open.
He stared greedily at the children, and at that moment, the last of his strength burst forth.
His cloudy yet still sharp gaze slowly swept over each of his relatives in front of the bed. His consciousness seemed to drift for a moment, then struggled to gather again, finally settling on Xiao Che's face.
He didn't have much strength to speak; his lips moved slightly.
Xiao Che quickly bent down and put his ear close to his grandfather's lips.
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