Chapter 611 - 402: Cemetery

Chapter 611: Chapter 402: Cemetery

Feng Mountain stood by the parapet on the roof. The sunlight spilled over him, but it couldn’t warm his heart, which now felt a little cold.

He gazed at the distant sea.

The lighthouse was still standing tall over the water, just as it always had, lonely yet resolute.

He just wondered if the paint that had once been smeared on it had been cleaned off by now.

Feng Mountain couldn’t help but recall the decision he’d made before leaving for Alaska.

He’d been impulsive and reckless back then, acting on a hot-blooded whim without considering the consequences.

Thinking back on it now, he couldn’t help but feel a little regret and self-reproach.

Just as Feng Mountain was lost in his thoughts, the sound of footsteps approaching from behind broke the momentary silence.

Feng Mountain froze for a moment, then slowly turned to see a middle-aged security guard walking straight toward him, carrying a short baton.

As the guard got closer, he asked with a hint of uncertainty in his eyes.

"You... you’re Mr. Feng Mountain... right?"

"I am," Feng Mountain nodded lightly, his gaze calm as he looked at the guard.

Hearing the confirmation, the middle-aged guard looked instantly relieved. A smile spread across his face, and he casually twirled the baton in his hand.

"The monitoring room just said they saw someone on the roof. I thought it was a thief, but it turns out you’re back!"

The corners of Feng Mountain’s mouth curved up in a faint smile. "Your property management is so diligent now, even patrolling the roof."

"Diligent, my foot." The middle-aged guard waved his hand dismissively, his expression a mix of resignation and amusement. "Our manager ordered it. He said you’re a big shot, so we have to watch your place carefully. Look over there—we installed five cameras on the roof alone. They cover every nook and cranny. We know the second anything happens. We even have janitors come up to clean every day."

As he spoke, the guard pointed in several directions around the iron-roofed shack on the roof, a proud look in his eyes.

Then he added, a gossipy look on his face.

"You must be making the big bucks. Why else would the property manager be so attentive? A couple of days ago, someone’s bike was stolen from the next building, and they just said the cameras were broken and couldn’t find anything."

"Just enough to get by," Feng Mountain said with a smile, not directly addressing the guard’s speculation. His expression was nonchalant.

The middle-aged guard perceptively noticed that Feng Mountain didn’t seem to want to chat any longer.

"Well, as long as everything’s all right. Mr. Feng, I’ll be heading down then."

With that, he nodded and turned toward the stairwell.

The security guard’s appearance had shattered the quiet tranquility of Feng Mountain’s reminiscence.

Just a moment ago, he had been staring entranced at the distant sea and the lighthouse, but now he had no interest in continuing to admire the view.

Feng Mountain sighed softly and went back inside.

As soon as he entered the shack, he saw Coca-Cola slacking off, lying lazily on the sofa. It was on its back with its limbs stretched out, looking utterly content.

A small smile touched Feng Mountain’s lips. He beckoned to Coca-Cola. "Come on, let’s go see Mom."

Hearing its dad’s call, Coca-Cola instantly perked up. It scrambled to its feet with a SWISH, its eyes sparkling, and ran to Feng Mountain’s side in just a few steps.

First, it circled twice around Feng Mountain’s feet.

Then, with a great leap, it jumped right into Feng Mountain’s arms.

It rubbed its head back and forth against Feng Mountain’s chest, purring contentedly.

Feng Mountain gently stroked Coca-Cola’s head, then turned and locked the door.

Leaving the residential complex, the sun cast his shadow long on the ground.

Holding Coca-Cola, Feng Mountain walked toward the place that held so much importance for him.

There was a hint of urgency in his steps, and a trace of nervousness as well.

He was about to keep a long-overdue rendezvous.

---------

Feng Mountain stood by the roadside with Coca-Cola in his arms, scanning the street before hailing a taxi.

After getting into the car and giving the address for the South District Cemetery, he fell silent.

The scenery flashed by outside the window, but Feng Mountain had no heart to admire it. His mind was filled with the image of Ms.

Half an hour later, the taxi arrived at the South District Cemetery.

After paying the fare, Feng Mountain got out with Coca-Cola and walked straight to the entrance of the cemetery grounds. He stopped at a small flower stall and picked out a large bouquet of carnations.

Next, he went to the cemetery’s administration office and registered his name.

He rented a set of cleaning tools from a staff member.

Feng Mountain accepted them politely, murmured his thanks, and entered the graveyard carrying the flowers and tools.

It wasn’t a typical time for visiting graves, so the cemetery felt rather deserted.

All was silent, save for the cool winter wind that gently swept past, rustling the wild grass by the path.

Treading on the gravel path, Feng Mountain made his way toward Ms.’s grave.

He arrived before Ms.’s grave.

The headstone was covered in a layer of dust, but the photo of Ms. was still clear.

In the photo, Ms. had a brilliant smile and gentle eyes, as if she were quietly watching the visitor before her.

Feng Mountain knelt slowly, placing the carnations in front of the headstone. His throat felt tight. He took a deep breath and said softly,

"Ms., I’m back."

His voice held a choked sob, filled with the complex emotions of a long-awaited reunion—longing and guilt.

Coca-Cola sat quietly beside him, as if it too could feel the heavy mood, and didn’t make a sound.

He placed the carnations before the headstone.

Feng Mountain began to wipe the headstone bit by bit with a cloth, not missing a single corner, as if pouring all his long-held yearning into the motion.

Once the headstone was clean,

He took up the broom and gently swept away the fallen leaves and dust around the gravesite, his movements gentle, as if afraid of disturbing the peace.

The gravesite was finally clean.

Feng Mountain sat quietly beside the headstone. He pulled the pack of cigarettes he’d just bought from his pocket and lit one with a trembling hand.

As the smoke slowly rose, he reached out to gently stroke the photo of Ms., his voice tinged with sorrow.

"I know you didn’t like me smoking, and I haven’t in a long time. Just let me have this one today, okay?"