The expressions on both of their faces were not very good, and each one was more solemn than the other, especially when they were not talking. They were so solemn that it seemed as if even the air around them was tense.
T6, who was covered with a white blanket, lay motionless on the bed. If one didn't look carefully, one would almost think that he wasn't even breathing.
Looking at T6 like this, another image kept flashing past Xia Jinyuan's mind.
One winter, his comrade lay on the bed motionlessly as if he had fallen asleep. Xia Jinyuan watched from afar and didn't even have the courage to take steps.
That winter, he lost his comrade, J5, forever. Time couldn't be reversed, and his life couldn't be extended. His comrade fell on the battlefield and never returned.
This was the pain of having your heart broken.
T6 was on the same bed and under the same white blanket. When Xia Jinyuan recalled the past, the pain was still like getting his flesh cut.
