As they spoke, sentimental background music began to play from the speakers nearby, and the song "A Grateful Heart" poured out, accompanied by the crackle of static.

All the students who had received letters were still in a daze, whispering to each other:

"What is this?"

"Did my dad write this to me?"

"My mom?"

Luke Carter, as class monitor, stood at the front of the line leading the group.

"What the heck," he opened the envelope and read the first line, "To my dear son—"

There was still a hint of teasing in his voice at first.

But after reading those few words, he suddenly fell silent.

Old Thompson handed out the last letter, then stood next to Manager Jensen and said, "How did you come up with this?"

Manager Jensen usually looked fierce and unfeeling, but the harsher his words, the more delicate his thoughts sometimes were—even more so than Thomas Thompson, the Chinese teacher. The coming-of-age ceremony had been planned for a long time, and he wanted to make it special, to help these kids remember this day as much as possible.

Manager Jensen sighed, "Some things are hard to say out loud. Maybe through letters, parents and kids can communicate more."

Ethan Young opened his envelope and found that Ms. Miller had written three pages.

The very first sentence was, "I love you."

For a moment, it was as if he could see through those thin sheets of paper and glimpse Ms. Miller holding a pen, sitting at her desk, writing.

I love you, but sometimes love is also a burden.

I am also very grateful to you. Thank you for coming into my life.

Ethan Young's grip on the paper tightened. He couldn't quite describe it—it was like someone had suddenly squeezed his heart, not too hard, not too soft.

In the neighboring class, a few girls couldn't hold back their emotions and started to cry, covering their mouths with their hands, sobbing through their fingers.

Once those girls started crying, the atmosphere became even more sentimental.

Sometimes, the strongest feelings in your heart are the hardest to say out loud.

Ethan Young read two pages, then looked up, staring at a tree not far away for a while before he recovered, then went back to carefully read the last page, word by word.

Ever since you were very little, I couldn't help but think about your future. I wondered what you would be like when you grew up, where you would go, what you would do. I thought through every possible path.

Now it's your turn to think about it.

No matter what you choose, I will always be proud of you.

I only hope you will be safe and happy.

"This concludes the coming-of-age ceremony at Liyang West High," Manager Jensen took the microphone and said a few final words, "I hope that no matter what difficulties you face in the future, you can remember this day. All the emotion, courage, and original intentions."

"Now, please follow your teachers and enter the museum in order."

The visit to the People's Memorial Hall was very quiet. It was hard to tell if it was because they hadn't recovered from the ceremony or because the heavy history left them speechless. After following the designated route, it was almost three in the afternoon when they came out.

It wasn't until they got on the bus to go to the restaurant for dinner that everyone became lively again.

Henry Howard called out, "Let me make it clear first, I refuse to sit at the same table as the PE rep later."

This time, there were eight people per table, and getting food was basically a competition.

After Henry Howard made his statement, Luke Carter immediately followed, raising his hand, "I refuse too."

Logan Wright was like a soccer ball, kicked from one group to another. At this rate, he'd end up at the teachers' table with Old Thompson and the others: "Haozi, don't you love me anymore! What happened to mutual affection!"

""

After Henry Howard livened up the mood, he stopped talking, stuck one hand in his pocket, leaned his head back, and closed his eyes.

Even in the darkness behind his eyelids, the words from Old Howard's letter slowly surfaced.

I'm also afraid you'll get hurt.

But I believe in you even more. My son wouldn't give up just because of a little setback.

In Henry Howard's memory, Old Howard was a particularly cool parent. He used to think this way of raising kids was a bit heartless—whenever he fell, Old Howard would never reach out a hand: "If you have what it takes, lie on the ground for the rest of your life. If you don't, get up."

As Henry Howard thought about this, he vaguely sensed something moving beside him. When he opened his eyes, the kid next to him had already slipped his fingers a little into the edge of his pocket.

Henry Howard didn't say anything, just leaned back in his chair and stared at him.

Ethan Young didn't dodge either, and simply took his hand.

Logan Wright and the others changed the subject, moving from dinner to the hotel: "I'm planning to do some homework when I get back later."

"You brought homework? Are you an animal? Didn't you say it would take care of itself?"

"I was just comforting you. You actually believed that?"

The food at the restaurant wasn't great. The big round wooden tables were covered with plastic tablecloths, and there were a dozen tables in the hall, with several classes squeezed in together. The food tasted like cafeteria fare, as if the chef's hand had slipped and added a few extra spoonfuls of salt.

Logan Wright still ended up at their table, making everyone nervous.

Henry Howard worried that Ethan Young would be too reserved, so he reminded him, "Just go for the food with your chopsticks, or there won't even be any sauce left for you."

Ethan Young unwrapped his chopsticks, unconcerned: "He can try."

Everyone at the table with Logan Wright sat up straight, on high alert, as if they were preparing for battle rather than a meal.

Wanda was sitting next to Logan Wright, and he felt that today's meal could go down in history. While the other tables ate quietly and occasionally complained about the food, their table was in total chaos.

Henry Howard threw down his chopsticks: "Damn it, Haozi, hold him down. Don't let him get any food!"

"Wanda, stop eating and help out," Luke Carter shouted, "Go for his weak spot!"

Wanda was confused: "Weak spot? What weak spot?"

Ethan Young: "Grab his chopsticks."

Logan Wright was attacked from all sides, pinned down with his cheek pressed to the table: "Why are you all doing this to me?"

The people at the next table were stunned: "Is this eating? That's intense."

With everyone working together, they finally managed to defend the half plate of grilled fish in the center of the table.

Compared to fancy dishes and delicacies, this cafeteria-level meal—with the chef's shaky hand adding too much salt—tasted like a disaster scene.

What no one knew was that, despite the taste, none of them would forget it for years to come.

The two-day schedule was packed. After dinner and a quick break, they set off for the temple fair.

It wasn't as hot as in the afternoon. When they got off the bus, a few cool breezes blew in from the lake nearby.

The South Temple was also a unique local tourist spot, and as evening approached, more and more people arrived.

Vendors pushed carts selling trinkets and ornaments along the street—red embroidery with tassels hanging below, delicate and exquisite.

There were also elderly people selling river lanterns, hunched over, sitting by the lake with their feet on the stone steps.

The customs here were completely different from the city, with a touch of ancient charm.

Old Thompson was worried about them. There were a lot of people, and it would be completely dark soon. He asked several times if everyone had their phones: "Okay, are you sure you all have them? Then split into groups for free time, and meet at the entrance at seven."

As Ethan Young listened, someone suddenly patted him on the back.

Henry Howard was behind him, mouthing, "Let's go."

"Where to?"

"Anywhere," Henry Howard said again, "If you don't go, you'll have to stay here and wait for group assignments?"

Ethan Young remembered the last autumn outing and thought, forget it, too many people is a hassle.

As soon as Old Thompson finished talking about groups, Luke Carter instinctively turned to look for the two school bullies, and happened to catch sight of their backs.

Both of them were wearing school uniforms, standing together and looking like a perfect match. They hadn't gone far when Henry Howard openly reached out and took Ethan Young's hand.

------------

112. Chapter 112

When Henry Howard reached out to hold his hand, Ethan Young instinctively squeezed back, neither dodging nor hesitating in the slightest.

The sky was getting darker.

Red filled their view, the ground was covered with bits of firecracker debris, and lanterns hung all along the street, flickering on and off.

They hadn't walked far side by side when they passed a sugar art stall. Henry Howard glanced at it, tightened his grip, and pulled him over: "Let me buy you some candy?"

A group of female tourists was gathered around the stall.

The amber, semi-transparent syrup glowed under the streetlights, and the vendor, skilled and quick, shaped a fierce-looking dragon in just a few moves.

The crowd cheered.

"Isn't this childish," Ethan Young didn't really want to squeeze in and wait in line, "How old are you?"

Henry Howard raised his hand and pointed, calling out, "Boss, that one."