That night.
After seeing off Wang Weiguo and the neighbors who had come to offer their condolences, the somewhat dilapidated house fell back into silence.
Chu Feng sat alone on the couch, staring blankly at the black and white portrait on the wooden altar across from him.
In the photograph, the couple embraced each other, smiling tenderly, just as they had smiled at Chu Feng in the holographic images.
Besides this archived photograph and some clothing, they hadn't left anything behind.
Even their ashes were mixed with those of other warriors, indistinguishable and only fit to be placed in a ceremonial mound.
Looking at their smiling faces, a small crack suddenly appeared in Chu Feng's icy heart, igniting a tiny flame within.
The fire slowly kindled the resentment hidden beneath the icy facade, gradually evolving into a raging inferno that lit up his eyes.
A balance was achieved between ice and fire within his heart.
