A three-year-old child dragged his sister's coffin and cried out for justice in the military re

"yes!"

Old Xu dared not delay, even though he was filled with an instinctive fear of the blood-stained box.

He gave Xiao Liu and Da Qiang a wink.

Two sentries, as strong as calves, swallowed hard and forced themselves to come forward.

They bent down and reached out to pick up the little dumpling that was lying on the box.

"Be gentle."

Qin Xiao suddenly spoke.

His gaze remained fixed on Sui Sui's dirty little face, noticing that even in her unconscious state, her brows were still tightly furrowed, as if she were having some terrible nightmare.

"Don't hurt her."

Xiao Liu's hands were trembling.

He carefully supported Sui Sui under her armpits, wanting to pick her up.

But I can't lift it.

The child was as light as a piece of paper, yet her hands seemed to be welded to that broken wooden box.

The fingernails of all ten fingers had broken off, and the bloody fingertips were deeply embedded in the cracks of the rough wooden planks.

What kind of power is that?

It was an obsession that one would rather die than let go.

"Report... Reporting to the brigade commander..."

Xiao Liu was sweating profusely with anxiety, and his voice was trembling with tears.

"I can't pry it open... I really can't pry it open... If I use any more force, her fingers will break..."

Qin Xiao's heart suddenly clenched.

pain.

That fucking hurts.

This is Lin Cang's daughter.

The little princess who smiled like a little sun in the photo, being held up and shown off by that big, goofy guy.

Now, however, he acts like a protective little animal, not caring even if his finger is broken in order to guard this dilapidated box.

Qin Xiao took a deep breath.

The cold air felt like a knife scraping as it entered my lungs.

He carefully placed the mushy photo, now a mess, into his pocket and nestled it close to his heart.

Then, he knelt down on one knee again.

Those crisp military trousers fell directly into the icy, muddy snowmelt.

He reached out his large hand and gently covered Sui Sui's pitiful little hands.

His hands were large and warm, with calluses from holding a gun all over his palms.

That's the feel of security.

"Year after year".

Qin Xiao lowered his head, his lips almost touching Sui Sui's ear, which was covered in black ash.

Her voice was incredibly gentle.

It was as if they were afraid of disturbing the wind and snow, and even more afraid of frightening the child covered in wounds.

"I am Uncle Qin."

"I am Qin Xiao."

"Uncle saw the photo, and Uncle recognizes you."

"Your father is my older brother, and you are my own daughter."

"Listen to me, let go of my hand."

"This is the military base, this is our own home."

"You're home now, no one will dare to bully you anymore."

"No one dares to touch my sister."

"Uncle promises you, if anyone dares to touch this box, Uncle will twist their head off and use it as a ball."

Perhaps it was that familiar name that made the difference.

Perhaps it was that warmth, carrying body heat, that penetrated through the cold skin and reached Sui Sui's tense nerves.

Sui Sui, who was in a coma, trembled slightly.

The two lines of tears that had been hanging in the corners of her eyes finally rolled down.

Followed by.

The fingers that were gripping the wooden board tightly loosened, little by little, extremely slowly.

stiff.

I've been holding that position for too long; my joints are stiff.

The moment it loosened, it made a slight "click" sound.

Qin Xiao's heart skipped a beat.

He quickly wrapped the bloodied little hands in his palms and rubbed them gently, trying to transfer some warmth to them.

"Good boy."

"good."

Qin Xiao picked up Sui Sui, his movements as gentle as if he were holding a fragile porcelain doll.

He turned around and handed the child to the guard behind him, whose eyes were already red with tears.

"Hold me in your arms."

"Don't let her see it."

"Cover your ears."

The guard was a young man in his early twenties, and tears were welling up in his eyes. His hands were trembling as he took Sui Sui from him.

"yes!"

He turned around, his back to the box, and wrapped Sui Sui tightly in his coat, covering her ears with both hands.

The site has been cleared.

Only that lonely, ugly, broken wooden box remained, lying in the snow.

It looks like a coffin.

A coffin filled with endless sins.

"Let's do it."

Qin Xiao stood up.

The gentle, fatherly expression he had just worn vanished instantly.

Instead, there was the chilling atmosphere of a king taking his seat in court.

Old Xu pulled a bayonet from his waist.

It was a Type 95 military bayonet with a sharpened edge, gleaming coldly.

He walked over to the box.

Upon closer inspection, the smell became even stronger.

Although the opening was blocked by mud and rags, the stench of formaldehyde mixed with rotting flesh still seeped into my nose through the cracks.

Old Xu is a veteran who has spent his life among piles of dead bodies.

But at this moment, his hand holding the knife felt a little slippery.

I was covered in cold sweat.

"pry!"

Old Xu let out a low growl to bolster his courage.

The bayonet plunged deep into the gap between the lid and the body of the box.

"Squeak—"

The rusty iron nails rubbed against the wood, producing a teeth-grinding scream.

The sound was particularly jarring in the quiet, snowy night.

a bit.

Two times.

The box was nailed very securely.

It's not for theft prevention, but to prevent things inside from falling out.

Or perhaps it's to prevent that smell from escaping.

Each nail felt like it was driven into Qin Xiao's heart.

How did that child named Sui Sui manage to get here all this way?

This box must weigh at least 60 or 70 pounds.

How old is she?

Three and a half years old?

Did you drag this thing for three hundred miles?

Qin Xiao dared not think about it.

The more he thought about it, the stronger his murderous intent became.

"Bang!"

The last nail flew off.

The lid is loose.

Old Xu took a deep breath and held it.

"Brigadier, we've opened fire."

Qin Xiao remained silent.

He took a step forward.

Those feet, clad in military boots, crunched on the snow.

"Open it."

Old Xu gritted his teeth and exerted a sudden burst of force.

"Splash—"

The heavy wooden plank was overturned to one side.

In that very instant.

An intense, suffocating odor burst forth, like a demon imprisoned for a thousand years!

That wasn't just the smell of a corpse.

It was a mixture of high concentrations of preservatives, disinfectant, stale blood, and the cloying sweetness of rotting flesh.

"vomit--!"

Standing downwind, Xiao Liu, even though he was a rigorously trained soldier who could slaughter pigs and sheep without batting an eye, was still able to do so.

I couldn't help myself at that moment.

He bent over and vomited with a "whoosh".

He even vomited bile.

Old Xu's face was also deathly pale, and his stomach was churning, but he forced himself not to vomit, and just covered his mouth and nose tightly.

Qin Xiao didn't move.

He seemed to have lost his sense of smell.

He stood there stiffly beside the box, head down, looking inside.

The searchlight shone into the box without reservation.

It illuminated that hell.

That instant.

Qin Xiao felt as if a bolt of lightning had struck him directly on the top of his head.

He was chopped into a crisp.

Soul out of the body.

My mind went completely blank.

What is that?

What is that?

Inside the box, there was a layer of moldy cotton wool.

On the cotton wadding lay a... "person".

If you don't look closely, it really does resemble a person.

She was wearing a dirty, ill-fitting red dress.

but.

The bottom of that skirt was empty.

The left sleeve is empty.

The right pant leg is also empty.

That's not a complete body.

It was a pile of mangled limbs pieced together...

There was a huge, gruesome cut on his chest, as if it had been roughly sewn up, with loose threads still sticking out.

Those are the marks left after the heart was removed.

That face.

That face that should have been exquisitely beautiful.

At this moment, he was as pale as paper and so thin that he was unrecognizable.

His eyes were tightly closed, and there was still white frost on his eyelashes.

If you didn't look at her mutilated limbs, she would look like she was asleep.

Quiet.

Clever.

But on that neck.

On that neck, so thin it seemed it would break at the slightest touch.

She was wearing a red scarf.

The scarf was old, pilled, and even had some loose threads.

It was hand-woven.

The stitches are a bit crooked, clearly the work of a novice.

Qin Xiao stared intently at the scarf.

My vision started to blur.

The world began to spin.

The door to memory was violently flung open at that moment by that red scarf.

five years ago.

Lin Cang had just become a father and was so happy he was like a fool.

During the Chinese New Year, Sister Lin insisted on learning to knit scarves, saying she wanted to knit one for each of her two daughters.

Qin Xiao was helping out on the side, winding the yarn balls.

"Old Qin, do you think these stitches are okay?"

"Sister-in-law, this is a bit crooked."

"Screw you, this is art! When my daughter wears it, she'll be the prettiest girl in the whole compound!"

On the lower right corner of the scarf, Sister Lin had specially embroidered a crooked "warm" character with gold thread.

Qin Xiao's hands trembled.

Slowly, slowly, I reached out towards the scarf.

He lifted a corner of the scarf.

There.

Even if it's stained with blood, even if it's dirty.

The golden character for "warmth" is still there.

It's like a thorn.

It pierced Qin Xiao's eyeballs.

warm.

This is Nuan Nuan.

This is Lin Cang's eldest daughter, Lin Nuannuan.

Five years ago, when he went to Lin Cang's house for a free meal, the little girl with short legs ran over, called him "godfather" in a childish voice, and insisted that he lift her up high.

That little angel with two dimples when she smiles, who says she wants to marry a great hero like her godfather when she grows up.

just now.

She was lying in this broken wooden box.

It turned into a pile...

"scrap".