He Yanzhi rushed over, squatted down, and stroked the rough, cold, damp surface of the wood with trembling hands, as if he could still feel a trace of warmth.
His eyes searched anxiously around the wood…
Suddenly, his gaze was fixed on a clump of bushes next to the driftwood, their branches tossed and turned by the flood!
Hanging there was a torn, mud-stained blue work jacket that was still recognizable by its color!
These were the work clothes from Guan Wenru's factory.
He Yanzhi's body froze instantly, as if all his strength had been drained away.
He reached out very slowly, his fingertips trembling, and touched the mud-covered fabric.
He carefully and meticulously removed it from the thorny branch.
He clutched the tattered coat tightly, his knuckles cracking from the excessive force, his skin deathly pale.
He lowered his head, staring intently at the garment in his hand, as if trying to pierce through it.
In his bloodshot eyes, the last faint light was completely extinguished, leaving only bottomless despair and a deathly cold silence.
His tall figure on the riverbank in the dim morning light resembled a cold stone statue that had instantly lost its soul.
The two battalion commanders immediately surrounded him. Looking at the clothes in their regimental commander's hands and then at the commander's ashen face, their hearts sank to the bottom.
The battalion commander's voice was dry and heavy, "Regimental commander, this...this is your sister-in-law's...clothes?"
He Yanzhi did not respond, but gripped the cold blue coat with almost all his might.
The clothes have been found…
Where are they?
Guan Wenru!
Where are you?
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