In the sombre moment of grief came the first rays of dawn. The Qin family, their guests and the families of those affected by the terrorist attack and all the workers in the enterprise assembled at the cemetery to pay tribute to the lives lost. It was a mass burial. Some who were wounded earlier died later on after being unable to bear the pain from the grave injuries sustained.
Two weeks ago Xiulan cried as if the ferocity of it might bring her husband back; as if by the sheer force of her grief, the news would be undone, but nothing changed. Many times Lijuan and her brothers would try to hold her back, to calm her, even as their own tears fell thick and fast, but in her hysteria, she was too strong, too wild.
Now she had calmed down, wanting to keep her comport because the mandate of the ceremony was on her.
