Later, she called her grandmother, and her eldest uncle came to handle the body. Her mother had died from excessive blood loss after falling unconscious, and the baby boy in her belly was suffocated to death while still alive. When that man came back, he knelt on the ground and cried bitterly. She just watched him coldly as he wept, never once calling him "Dad."

After that, for so many years, she never called him "Dad" again. She started to deliberately provoke him, refused to listen to him, did whatever he disliked, and wished he would die.

Well, now he really was dead.

Alice Grant didn't want to cry; her emotions were complicated and indescribable.

Suddenly, the wind picked up, making the trees on both sides rustle. In the end, Alice Grant stepped forward, gently placed the bouquet of white chrysanthemums in front of the tombstone, and said, "You spent your whole life busy being a hero everywhere, and in the end, you died for the sake of being a hero too. I guess you fulfilled your life's dream—got what you wanted. I won't comment on it. I just hope you didn't regret it in the end."

He was a good man, she knew that, but even though he was dead, she would never reconcile with him, and she would never come here again.

They both stuck to their own beliefs, neither regretting it.

The next destination was the cemetery, which was quite a distance from the memorial. There were still many white chrysanthemums in the car. Although Brian Carter didn't say anything, Alice Grant could pretty much guess who he was taking her to see, so she took the initiative to hold the chrysanthemums in her arms.

The first thing she saw was the joint grave of Brian Carter's parents. Alice Grant offered flowers to them, called them Mom and Dad, and bowed three times. Brian Carter's parents were open-minded people, with the unique temperament of highly educated intellectuals—especially his mother, who treated her very well.

There was also her grandmother's grave. Her grandmother was Alice Grant's favorite elder besides her mother. After her mother died, she didn't want to stay at home, so she lived with her grandmother for half a year. If it hadn't been for her uncle and aunt's objections, she might have stayed with her grandmother even longer. When she was in high school, her grandmother died of illness.

Next to it were her mother's grave and... her own grave.

Brian Carter quietly watched her walk past the tombstones of her relatives, finally letting his gaze rest on her own tombstone.

He said, "Your mother and grandmother's graves were moved here by your father when the old cemetery was relocated. Your grave was built by your father five years after you went missing."

He set up a tombstone for her, yet kept her missing person's notice up for forty years.

"I feel weird looking at this tombstone," Alice Grant wiped her tears, trying to sound as relaxed as possible.

"Yes, coming here today, besides letting you see your loved ones, we also need to take down this tombstone first," Brian Carter said.

Alice Grant casually said, "Might as well leave it. I'll need it someday anyway."

Brian Carter looked at her as if she were a child speaking without thinking, his expression very serious, his tone a bit reproachful, "Don't say such things."

Alice Grant: "..." She wondered how the younger Brian Carter would have reacted—probably frowning and softly saying, 'You shouldn't say that.' Even if he was angry, it would be gentle, and he'd smile as soon as you teased him, with no deterrent at all.

Well, now that he's older, Brian Carter really has gotten a lot tougher.

Chapter 9

Alice Grant played games almost all night, but still got up quite early in the morning.

Brian Carter was heating up soy milk. Seeing her come downstairs, he said in surprise, "How are you up so early? Didn't sleep well?"

Alice Grant said it was nothing, walked into the kitchen to help heat up the buns. After breakfast, someone called Brian Carter, and he went into the study. Alice Grant sat in the living room, holding her personal terminal to look things up, while also on a video call with Jenny Parker, who was showing off her chubby three-year-old grandson's adorable cheeks.

Alice Grant glanced a few times. "He is pretty cute."

The two chatted casually for a bit. Jenny Parker had to go out, so Alice Grant ended the video call and got up to pour herself some water. Passing by the study, she saw the door was open and peeked inside.

Brian Carter had opened a light screen and was writing something on it. Nowadays, electronic devices have all kinds of input methods—typing and voice input are both fast and convenient—but Brian Carter preferred handwriting. This kind of handwriting input was different from before, as it preserved the style of the writing, making it just like writing on paper.

Brian Carter had beautiful penmanship. Alice Grant still remembered how, back then, he had carefully written her a love letter, and the handwriting was especially nice. She had put that letter under their marriage certificate and some other documents—she didn't know if it was still there.

Sensing Alice Grant's gaze, Brian Carter put down his pen. "What's wrong? Is there something you don't know?" He looked like he was about to stand up. Alice Grant waved her hand. "It's nothing, you keep working." Then she went back to the living room.

There was a clock hanging in the living room—not the kind of fully smart electronic clock people like these days, which shows the time, weather, temperature, humidity, and all sorts of information in real time, but an ordinary round wall clock. The second hand was ticking along, moving one notch at a time. After all, being born more than half a century ago, he still kept some old habits, like using this kind of clock. In a way, he was a nostalgic old man.

When the shortest hand of the clock pointed to 9, Alice Grant tidied up and got ready to go out. In the study, Brian Carter was still busy writing. Alice Grant called out to him.

"I'm heading out for a bit."