Today.
Babaoshan Revolutionary Cemetery.
Today was Comrade Wei Jianguo's memorial service. It was also the day of his cremation. Perhaps the Heavens were also touched. The skies were filled with gloomy clouds and a light drizzle fell like the Heavens were weeping.
Zhang Ye drove uphill and found a place to park. He saw many people around him and thought that they were here for someone else's memorial, that they were relatives and family of someone else. But when he heard them talk, he realized that more than half of these people were here for Editor Wei.
Two people were talking.
"Friend."
"Yes? What's the matter?"
"Is Father Wei's memorial service here?"
"Yes. You need to go further uphill. You are Old Wei's..?"
