During the month of June, Bayside City was a field of greenery; even the cemetery outside the city was green and lively.

However, the greenery here was covered with a layer of sorrow and solemnity; buried deep under the greenery was once a vivid life.

There were black and white photos of old and young people attached to rows of tombstones. Each person had a simple epitaph summarizing their lifetime; some of them led ordinary lives, while others had magnificent ones.

A man with a head full of white hair arrived with a handful of chrysanthemums. Then, he placed the flowers in front of a tombstone that neither looked old or new.

The man in the photo looked very young; he had healthy black hair with fine features and a bright, happy smile. He probably didn’t know that this photo would appear on his tombstone one day.

The white-haired man placed the chrysanthemums in front of the tombstone as he squatted down. He placed a hand on the tombstone and stared at the picture of the young man dazedly.

The name ‘Quinton Clark’ was engraved on the tombstone; there was even the story about how he had sacrificed his life to save his students who had been kidnapped by some terrorists. He died a heroic death in his thirties.

The man had been squatting there for a while when he heard footsteps from behind him all of a sudden. As he stood up and turned around, he saw a young man walking toward him. The young man looked unfamiliar as he wore gold-rimmed glasses that made him look like an intellectual, and he was also holding a bouquet of bright chrysanthemums.

“You are…” asked the old man in confusion after he wiped away the tears from his face.

The young man held the flowers as he bent down and placed them in front of Quinton’s tombstone. After that, he glanced at the black and white photo that would remain on the tombstone forever and gave a small smile. “I was Quinton’s former colleague; my last name is Fletcher.”

 

The old man collected himself as he took a tissue from his assistant’s hand and wiped his face. He then replied, “Ah, you are Hope’s colleague. I’m his father.”

The young man named Fletcher nodded respectfully at Jackson. “Hello, uncle.”

 

The two of them stood in front of the tombstone and stared at the picture on it.

first saw the child, I knew that he

though his son had passed many years ago, Jackson’s eyes filled with pride when he spoke about

with his mother, but he had already finished all his high school courses. He was accepted into Bayside University the following year, and he became the youngest student

a deep

Jackson as he talked about his son with sadness

left, and Jackson

this young man before, but why did Jackson feel like they had

the cemetery as he walked over

on the tombstone was also of a young man who looked unusually

was Theo’s tombstone, and had been dead for more

photo that resembled himself in a daze. After a while, he bent down and placed a bouquet of chrysanthemums in

together when they were alive, and they couldn’t be in the same grave when they were dead. After watching Theo being buried into the ground, Elizabeth bought a plot on the other side of the mountain and arranged her affairs in order before commiting suicide; she had been watching her husband lovingly

Family finally got around to registering their marriage certificates and

a bottle of wine and two glasses. He poured two glasses of wine, putting

that, he drank one glass after another while sitting quietly in

his face and broke into

behind him. Since Quinton was a well-trained assassin, he had a strong sense of awareness; he already knew that someone

of them had faces with the same temperament, and there were some similarities in terms of their

father, but each possessed

end, Michael was

that you’d be here—you even visited

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