The room enshrined two portraits, one of a man and the other of a woman, both dressed in dark green military uniforms and both very young.
It seemed that these two were martyrs who had died for their country at a young age, and they had a special relationship with Zhan Moxiao—were they his former comrades-in-arms?
Ou Lan's expression became solemn, no matter how willful and playful she was as a girl, she still knew to maintain reverence in front of martyrs, because soldiers are sacred, inviolable, both in life and death.
Their souls represented nothing less than the most upright and righteous spirit.
Her gaze swept over each portrait and finally settled on the female martyr's photograph.
This female martyr was beautiful and delicate, her brows revealing a heroic and resolute character.
She was very young, probably only around twenty-one or twenty-two years old at her time of sacrifice.
