Wind Rises in North America 1625

Chapter 611 The Dawn of Peace (Part 3)
August 9, early morning.

In the western suburbs of Shixing City, the verdant mountains and forests are ablaze with autumn colors.

The maple leaves are as red as fire, and the pines and cypresses are as black as ink, adorning the entire mountain range with solemnity and grandeur.

A thin mist, like a light veil, drifted slowly over this national cemetery where the souls of heroes rest.

The air was filled with the moist scent of grass and trees, mixed with the fresh fragrance of freshly turned soil, and a faint, poignant sadness.

On the main road of the cemetery, two rows of fully armed soldiers stood solemnly with their guns at the ready. They were dressed in dark blue military uniforms with white paper flowers pinned to their chests, and their expressions were solemn.

At the end of the road, thirty-seven coffins draped with the Red Lantern Five-Star Flag were neatly arranged. In front of each coffin stood a small stone tablet, inscribed with the names, hometowns, and dates of birth and death of the fallen officers and soldiers.

These simple words carry the full weight of each vibrant life.

At 9:00 AM, the burial (public memorial) ceremony officially began.

The military band played a somber Requiem, and the brass instruments resonated powerfully in the chilly air.

The memorial plaza in the center of the cemetery was packed with people.

Senior military officers were dressed in crisp ceremonial uniforms, their epaulets and sashes gleaming in the morning light.

The cabinet ministers, dressed in black stand-up collar suits, looked solemn and sculpted.

The families of the fallen soldiers stood at the front, many women covering their mouths with handkerchiefs, their suppressed sobs coming intermittently.

The hillsides surrounding the cemetery were mostly filled with citizens who had come spontaneously.

They stood silently, their eyes filled with reverence and sorrow.

Kuang Xu, Vice Chairman of the Military and Political Committee and Major General of the Army, walked steadily up the altar.

"Fellow Xinhua compatriots, soldiers..." His voice echoed over the cemetery, "Today, we stand here, on this land irrigated by the blood of heroes, to bid farewell to thirty-seven brave Xinhua warriors!"

He paused for a moment, his gaze slowly sweeping over each sorrowful face in the audience.

"Among them, some faced enemy fire on the smoke-filled battlefield, building a steadfast defense line to protect their homeland with their flesh and blood; some stood firm at their posts until their last breath during the dark night of rampant epidemics; and some, in the critical moment when unexpected events struck, unhesitatingly gave the hope of life to their closest comrades, while they themselves closed their eyes forever..."

The autumn wind swept through the pine forest, making a mournful sound, as if heaven and earth were also mourning these lost lives.

“These heroes…” Kuang Xu’s voice trembled slightly, but quickly regained its firmness. “They came from the distant Ming Dynasty, Korea, and even Japan. In order to have a full meal, a warm coat, and a piece of land, they traveled thousands of miles across the vast ocean to come to Xinhua.”

"They may have been farmers, beggars, refugees, or even slaves, but on this land full of hope, they have been given a new life and gained a life and dignity they had never had before."

"To defend the homeland we built with our own hands, and to allow more people to continue to live with dignity, and to ensure the long-term happiness and well-being of our families, they joined our army without hesitation and took up arms to fight against the evil and brutal Spanish colonizers!"

He paused for a moment, then his voice suddenly rose: "And today, they gave the most precious lives to provide the most magnificent interpretation of this noble aspiration!"

Suppressed sobs could be heard from below the stage, but many more people stood tall, their eyes burning with determination.

"In the Ming Dynasty, and even in other countries and regions..." Kuang Xu's voice was filled with painful memories, "Being a soldier was called 'eating grain soldiers,' and soldiers were treated like dirt, regarded as the most despicable profession in the entire society. Countless soldiers who fought bloody battles had to endure scorn and contempt when they returned home! But in our Xinhua, all of this no longer exists, it has vanished."

He took a deep breath and forcefully raised his right hand into the air: "Our soldiers are the backbone of the nation, upholding the indomitable spirit of Xinhua for us!"

"You are the shield of our nation, protecting the peace and tranquility of our thousands of families!"

"You not only enjoy generous benefits, but you have also earned the respect of the entire society. This respect is earned through your loyalty and courage, and forged with your blood and sweat. This is the supreme honor you deserve!"

Among the crowd, many retired veterans suddenly straightened their backs, tears glistening in their eyes.

The soldiers standing at attention unconsciously raised their heads and puffed out their chests even more.

“You can all feel it firsthand…” Kuang Xu’s voice became deep and warm, “When you walk on the streets of Shixing City, your chests will stand the straightest, and our people will spontaneously look at you with reverence.”

"When the stories of heroes spread throughout Xinhua, children will have this thought in their hearts: 'When I grow up, I want to be like you.'"

"When your military families encounter difficulties, local governments and neighbors will rush to lend a helping hand. This is how Xinhua treats its heroes, and this is the awakening of our national conscience!"

His words were like a warm current, flowing into everyone's heart.

Many family members of the fallen soldiers nodded involuntarily as they wiped away their tears.

Kuang Xu's eyes welled up with tears, and his voice became even louder, echoing through the mountains: "Today, we send our hero off on his final journey with a state funeral!"

"Let the mountains and rivers bear witness, let the rivers remember, let history etch these heroic souls into our hearts, and let them live forever in the indomitable spirit of Xinhua!"

He raised his right arm and solemnly saluted: "They gave their lives for us, and we will repay this most precious gift with eternal remembrance and the courage to move forward!"

"Heroes never die, Xinhua lives on forever!"

"Heroes never die, Xinhua lives on forever!" Countless shouts from the audience merged into one, like spring thunder rolling across the earth, shaking the hearts of everyone present.

Amidst these tragic and stirring cries, the coffins of the thirty-seven fallen soldiers, draped in the national flag, were slowly lifted by their comrades and carried step by step to their final resting place.

There, pine trees stand tall, flowers bloom eternally, and the heroic spirits reside forever.

Soldiers lined up on both sides of the square raised their guns to the sky, and three volleys of fire ripped through the air, startling birds in the woods.

Gunshots echoed through the mountains, lingering for a long time, as if this land were bidding its final farewell to the deceased.

The ceremony ended at noon.

The crowd began to disperse slowly, but many relatives of the fallen lingered, touching the new tombstones and whispering their last words to their departed loved ones.

Mao Falu wiped away the moisture from the corners of his eyes, then carefully straightened the collar and cuffs of his military uniform, making sure every crease was smooth and new.

As a student at the Xinhua Army Academy, this uniform is not only a symbol of his identity, but also carries a promise to his fallen comrades.

He walked with steady steps along the cobblestone path deeper into the cemetery.

This cemetery, which was only opened last year, is still in the early stages of development, with pine and cypress trees just taking root and tombstones bearing the marks of being newly carved.

He stopped before a granite tombstone, its surface polished exceptionally smooth, his gaze falling on the inscription: "Luo Daikui, Sergeant First Squad Leader, 3rd Platoon, 2nd Company, 1st Mixed Battalion, Xinhua Army, died in battle at Acapulco Bay on October 15th, 4339th year of the Yellow Emperor's calendar (1642 AD), at the age of twenty-two."

Several bunches of wild chrysanthemums had already been placed in front of the tombstone, their golden petals trembling slightly in the autumn wind.

“Squad leader, I’ve come to see you…” Mao Falu slowly knelt down, his knees landing on the slightly damp grass.

He took out a flask of wine and two rough earthenware cups from the cloth bag he carried with him.

The liquor was Dongping liquor, which was Luo Daikui's favorite drink during his lifetime. It was spicy with a sweet aftertaste, just like their military career together.

“Squad leader, I’ve filled your cup.” He poured two cups of wine, slowly pouring one into the ground in front of the grave. The clear liquid seeped into the soil, leaving dark marks. “I know you don’t like using cups, but we should still be polite and drink a little more elegantly.”

He raised another glass and drank it all in one gulp.

The burning sensation of the strong liquor as it went down his throat made him squint.

"Do you remember what we were like in the barracks?" he murmured to the tombstone, as if the sergeant who loved to yell was sitting right across from him. "Back then, I had just enlisted and couldn't even stand properly in formation. I don't know how many times you kicked me. At that time, I was thinking that I would definitely get my revenge on you when I got the chance, and I would stomp on your stinky face."

At this point, he couldn't help but chuckle softly, then fell silent again.

"Ah, what a pity, no chance left! You're lying there, enjoying the offerings of countless people and the pile of honors bestowed upon you by the country, making everyone envious... I think, damn it, you died a worthwhile death!"

The autumn wind blew by, and the pine trees rustled in the breeze, as if in response to his words.

Mao Falu poured himself another glass of wine and continued, "In the battle of Acapulco, if you hadn't charged ahead of me, I would be lying here right now."

His voice was choked with emotion. "You said that after the war, you would come back and build a big house, plant a large field of crops, and then marry a wife, have a bunch of kids, and leave a few bloodlines for your Luo family."

He paused, looked up at the sky, and tried to calm himself down.

"But now, you're lying down there, and none of those wishes can be fulfilled. I wonder if you regret rushing to the front lines now? Heh, I'll definitely help you fulfill those wishes in the future..."

The cries of other mourners drifted from afar, mingling with the autumn wind and adding to the desolation.

"Oh, right, I heard the Spanish sent representatives to sue for peace. We won the war." Mao Falu wiped his face and sniffed. "The war is over, that's a good thing. But I feel a bit empty inside..."

He poured himself another glass of wine and gently sprinkled it on the grave: "If only you were still here! You know, I'm in army academy now, and once I graduate, I'll be an officer. You bastard, just a lowly squad leader, probably only good for being yelled at by me all day long..."

"I must say, I learned a lot during my year at the academy." Mao Falu changed his posture and sat cross-legged in front of the tombstone. "I learned military strategy, history, how to lead troops, and how to deploy troops."

"The instructor said that it's not only important to learn how to fight, but also to know when to stop fighting; that's more important than just knowing how to fight. At the time, I didn't understand, but now I think I understand a little better."

"We join the army, ultimately, to protect," he continued, gazing at the tombstone. "To protect the people behind us, to protect the land beneath our feet, to protect our families. We don't know if there will be another war, but we're not afraid at all now. For this honor alone, even if we die in battle like you, it will be worth it!"

As the sun set, it cast a long shadow on him.

Visitors to the cemetery gradually dwindled, with only the rustling of the wind through the pines and cypresses, like a requiem for the deceased.

Mao Faluo stood up, solemnly straightened his military uniform, and gave a standard military salute to the tombstone, his arm lingering in the air for a long time.

"Squad leader, I can't chat with you any longer. I have class tomorrow and can't afford to be late." He let out a long sigh of relief and said goodbye to his squad leader. "Don't worry, as long as I, Mao Falu, am still wearing this uniform, I will definitely protect the peace here."

As he turned to leave, he looked back one last time.

The tombstone gleamed with a warm glow in the afterglow of the setting sun, much like Luo Daikui's eyes, which always seemed to feign fierceness.

"Damn it, I feel like you're still alive..."
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(End of this chapter)