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.

brought him to me. When I first saw the child, I knew that

his son had passed many years ago, Jackson’s eyes

his high school courses. He was accepted into Bayside University the following year, and he became the youngest student

deep sigh

the young man said nothing. He merely listened to Jackson as he talked about his son with sadness in

eventually left, and Jackson stared at

young man before, but why did Jackson feel like

other hand, the young man had not left the cemetery as he walked over to the Fletcher Family’s ancestral grave site; many

to a mausoleum, and the photo on the tombstone was

tombstone, and had been dead for more than

young man stood in front of the tombstone, he stared at the photo that resembled himself in a daze. After a while, he bent down and placed a bouquet of chrysanthemums in

After watching Theo being buried into the ground, Elizabeth bought a plot on the other side of the mountain and arranged her affairs

got around to registering

and two glasses. He poured two

drank one glass after another while

and broke into tears; as he

a strong sense of awareness; he already knew that someone was standing behind him, but

had faces with the same temperament, and there were some similarities

the same father, but each possessed

end, Michael was the one who

that you’d be here—you even visited the Clark

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