Qingzhou Martyrs' Cemetery.
Nightfall descends, and under a sky dotted with stars, the cemetery remains solemn and tranquil.
Shen You'an holds a bouquet of baby's breath and steps toward a gravestone.
On the pale granite base, a stately black headstone stands upright.
Shen You'an crouches down and places the baby's breath before the gravestone.
Suddenly, her gaze freezes.
In front of the gravestone, a bouquet of yellow and white chrysanthemums gently sways in the night breeze, as if whispering endless remembrance.
Shen You'an lifts her eyes and looks at the black-and-white photo engraved on the gravestone, delicately brushing away the dust that has settled.
The man in the photo has sharp eyebrows and bright eyes, stunningly handsome, his gaze radiating vigor; even through the aged photo, one can sense his exceptional charm and refinement.
And yet, he has forever been frozen in the most beautiful age, never to grow a single wrinkle, nor to see his temples fade to gray.
