Dressed in black, Mo Xin walked through the crowded demonstration crowd, entered a narrow alley, and, after making sure no one was following, crossed the alley to hail a taxi, heading in the opposite direction of where Vincent had driven.

About half an hour later, the taxi stopped at the entrance of a cemetery.

Mo Xin paid the fare, bought two bouquets of flowers at the entrance, and, after making sure there were no suspicious people following him, he strode into the cemetery.

After crossing a patch of lush green grass and climbing a long flight of stairs, he turned right after dozens of steps, and the seventh was Xiang Bei’s tombstone.

There were several bouquets of flowers still dewy on the grave, indicating that someone had visited recently.

Mo Xin looked around warily. Liang Qiuchi, dressed in black, walked out from behind a large tree. “Xiang Bei’s brother just left.”

“Did he see you?” Mo Xin asked.

Liang Qiuchi shook his head, sighing, “Uncle Xiang usually comes, but I heard his health isn’t too good this year.”

Mo Xin handed a bouquet of flowers to Liang Qiuchi and asked, “Do you come every year?”

“I come secretly,” Liang Qiuchi lowered his head, fiddling with the bouquet in his hands, his voice muffled. “Today is Xiang Bei’s birthday.” From childhood to adulthood, Liang Qiuchi had never missed Xiang Bei’s birthday as a good friend.

He forced a smile and said to Mo Xin, “If I didn’t come, he would definitely blame me for forgetting him.”

In fact, every day, Liang Qiuchi would close his eyes and see Xiang Bei lying in his arms, covered in blood, a scene that became increasingly blurred in his memory. He didn’t want to forget the lively and happy side of his good friend, nor did he want to mention his name, only those gruesome images floated in his mind.

He bent down and placed the flowers in front of the tombstone.

On the tombstone, Xiang Bei in the photo had a slightly curly head of hair, smiling brightly. From the sparkling eyes, one could catch a glimpse of a bit of his youthful exuberance.

Mo Xin also squatted down with Liang Qiuchi and said, “He looks a bit more obedient in his photo than in person.”

“It’s probably because of the hairstyle,” Liang Qiuchi said. The photo was taken for the school application that year, and he and Xiang Bei went together to take it. “Xiang Bei intentionally grew his hair for a few months to look better in the photo. He even went to get his hair styled before the shoot.”

Talking about the past, Liang Qiuchi’s tone became elusive and gentle. “After the photo shoot, he found long hair too bothersome and shaved his head bald. He regretted it after shaving it, so he stayed at my place for a month until his hair grew back before returning home.”

Mo Xin listened quietly. “Sounds like something he would do.”

“He’s just that kind of impulsive person,” Liang Qiuchi looked at the photo. “Uncle Xiang wanted him to be more stable, so he sent him to the Federal Military Academy with me.” He lowered his eyelashes guiltily. “In the end, it was my fault.”

Mo Xin gently patted his back, unsure of what to say to comfort him.

Liang Qiuchi shook his head at him, indicating that he was okay.

In these eight years, he had learned to live with his guilt, but every time he visited Xiang Bei, he would still be overwhelmed by immense regret.

He had gradually matured and become more stable amidst the gunfire and bullets, while Xiang Bei’s life remained frozen at the vibrant age of 20.

And time not only couldn’t heal this crack, but it would also gradually widen it until it became a chasm that only death could cross.

Liang Qiuchi couldn’t stay any longer. He said to Xiang Bei, “I’ll come to see you next year.” He put on sunglasses to hide the redness in his eyes and then reached out to Mo Xin.

Mo Xin took his hand and quietly descended the steps with him. When they reached the grassy area, he squeezed Liang Qiuchi’s hand and asked, “Do you want to visit your father?”

Liang Qiuchi’s father was buried in another cemetery, nearly twenty minutes away from where they were.

They had finally shaken off the annoying pursuers today. If they sped up, they probably wouldn’t be discovered.

But Liang Qiuchi refused.

“There are always people watching over there. If I show up, I’ll be discovered,” Liang Qiuchi said. “I’ll go see him after this matter is settled. I’ve waited so long, a few more days won’t make a difference.”

Mo Xin nodded and walked towards the car Liang Qiuchi had driven, sitting in the driver’s seat. He then said, “I go to pay respects to the deceased every year. It’s clean and safe. Don’t worry.”

Liang Qiuchi sat in the back, unexpectedly looking at him.

He knew Mo Xin was cold in temperament and didn’t care much about interpersonal relationships with the living, let alone the deceased.

“Every year?”

“Yeah,” Mo Xin fastened his seatbelt and met Liang Qiuchi’s gaze in the rearview mirror. “I’m like a half-stalker.”

Although he and those stalkers had slightly different purposes, they all waited for Liang Qiuchi to show up. However, every visit was just a disappointment.

Liang Qiuchi suddenly leaned over, grabbed Mo Xin’s collar, and kissed him, “I’m sorry for making you wait so long.” Liang Qiuchi was filled with deep self-blame, and his lips trembled uncontrollably as he kissed him.

Mo Xin originally didn’t think much of it, but hearing him say that, he inexplicably felt a hint of grievance in his heart.

He fumbled to undo his seatbelt and passionately responded to Liang Qiuchi’s kiss.

Liang Qiuchi wrapped his long arms around him and pulled him from the driver’s seat to the back, holding him gently and tenderly.

With just a glance, Mo Xin could get hard for him, especially when he was embraced like this.

Unfortunately, the timing wasn’t right at this moment, and the two of them couldn’t take it any further.

“I really want to strip your pants off,” Mo Xin said fiercely, biting Liang Qiuchi’s lip before reluctantly ending the kiss.

Liang Qiuchi kissed his chin affectionately. “Will you sleep with me tonight?”

Of course, Mo Xin wanted to sleep with him, but the thought of the persistent Godwin wouldn’t easily be dismissed, which dampened his spirits.

“One day, I’ll shove my gun into his mouth,” Mo Xin said calmly, but his tone sounded somewhat gritted.

Liang Qiuchi patted his back with a smile, and the phone in his pocket vibrated timely.

Glancing at the number, his expression slightly darkened, and he immediately answered the call. “Yahui jie.”

“Come back quickly,” Wu Yahui’s voice on the other end was firm and serious, a rare tone from her. “Bring Mo Xin with you.”

Liang Qiuchi and Mo Xin exchanged a glance, and Mo Xin immediately returned to the driver’s seat and started the car.

“What’s going on?” Liang Qiuchi asked.

“It’s hard to explain in a few words,” Wu Yahui said. “Just come back together, and be careful on the way.”