She wanted to save Qin Xiang, but she didn't even know where or when he would make his sacrifice. When she was at the martyrs' cemetery, she'd only given the name a fleeting glance. The only reason she remembered it was because his surname, Qin, was the same as hers.
At this moment, Qin Mei was filled with regret. She regretted not asking her grandfather about Qin Xiang's story.
"Why are you suddenly so cold?" Jie Jingchen asked, his face etched with concern. He felt her forehead, then his own. Their temperatures were about the same; she didn't have a fever.
Jie Jingshan reined in her thoughts and looked at Qin Mei with concern. A strange feeling for Qin Xiang had taken root in her, one she didn't quite understand. But her devotion to Qin Mei was absolute—more important than Qin Xiang. "Fourth Sister-in-law, what's wrong? Are you sick?"
Qin Mei clutched the fabric over her chest, too distressed to speak as cold sweat beaded on her forehead.
