Chapter 159 Cemetery

Rong Anzhou put one hand on the steering wheel, looked at Han Zhong in the rearview mirror, who opened and closed his phone for the seventh time, and blew a shrill whistle, "Maybe he hasn't woken up yet. I'll call you when he wakes up. Don't worry~"

Han Zhong glanced at him sideways, looked out the car window, and said nothing.

"What do you two say, you're back together?"

“…”

The person in the back seat ignored him. Rong Anzhou snorted, turned the steering wheel, and drove the car along the winding mountain road and into the gate of a cemetery.

Changfanshan Cemetery in Linhai City is a mid-to-high-priced cemetery among the major cemeteries in Linhai. It is very particular about the landscape and feng shui of the site, and most of the people buried there are wealthy people.

Rong Anzhou had greeted the cemetery's manager Wei Qiang beforehand, and he had been waiting in front of the gate early in the morning. When he saw the G-Class from afar, he went to greet it enthusiastically. However, when he opened the back door, he found that the person getting out was not Rong Anzhou, but Han Zhong, and he instantly became more attentive.

"According to Mr. Rong's instructions, I asked someone to leave a list of the people who came to pay their respects this morning. There were three people in total, and I wrote down their contact information and addresses."

As Wei Qiang spoke, he led the two people into the cemetery management office. There was only an old man in his sixties with gray hair, wearing a pair of old-fashioned black-framed glasses, reading a newspaper in the office.

"Old Zheng, hurry up and show what you wrote this morning to President Han and President Rong!"

The old man called Lao Zheng looked at the two tall and handsome men in suits led in by Wei Qiang and felt a little overwhelmed. He stood up in a hurry and just stood there blankly, seemingly unable to react.

Wei Qiang sighed, walked to the table, pulled out a notebook and handed it to Han Zhong, saying with a smile, "You are old and slow to react. This is the registration book. Please take a look."

Han opened it and scanned it. There were indeed three names and contact information, but the person he was looking for was not there, unless the other party used a pseudonym.

He handed the registration book back to the other party and said, "Can you take us to the cemetery?"

“Sure, sure.”

Wei Qiang turned around and asked Lao Zheng to take them to the graves in the southern area of ​​the cemetery. Although Lao Zheng was a little confused as to why these two people came to the cemetery to pay their respects and needed someone to lead the way, he still listened to the leader and led the two people to the cemetery in the southern area.

In the sunshine, in the cemetery surrounded by trees and green plants, tombstones are neatly arranged together, with their names and relatives' names, as well as their own photos, written on them, quietly sharing the sunlight above their heads.

"I am responsible for this area. What is the name of the person you want to worship?"

"Feng Yixuan."

Old Zheng paused for a moment, then continued walking forward. After a while, he led them to find Feng Yixuan's tombstone. The photo on the tombstone was very young, a teenager of about fifteen or sixteen years old. He had a fang when he smiled, and looked gentle and clean.

"Are you his brother?" asked Lao Zheng.

"I don't know him." Han Zhong said.

Old Zheng was stunned. If he didn't know him, then why did he come to pay homage?

However, Han Zhong did not do anything next. Instead, he walked to the end of this row of tombstones and then to the end of the second row. The faces in the photos above were some young and some old, but the date of the tombstones was the same.

Buried here are the victims of the fire in the art museum ten years ago, a total of eighty-seven people, the oldest was only thirty-five years old, and the youngest was only sixteen. They should have had bright futures, but died in the fire.

This was Han Zhong's first time here in ten years, but surprisingly he could remember all these people's faces, what they said to him and their encounters at the birthday party.

He didn't think he had set the fire, but he was afraid of Zhou Yannan's prophecy. He was afraid that there really was an unknown force in the world and that the disaster was really caused by him, so he had been deliberately avoiding the truth of that year for the past ten years.

But he did not come today for the victims, but for another person.

He stopped in front of the last tombstone in the row. The tombstone was very clean and the inscription on it was very new. The photo on it was of a sweet and beautiful young girl. She had two dimples when she smiled and looked very sunny.

There are only four simple words on the stele: Nan Yi's Tomb.

In addition, there was a bunch of pink lilies placed in front of the tomb. The flowers were very fresh and there were dewdrops on them.

"Who brought this bouquet of flowers?" Han Zhong asked.

Old Zheng said "Ah" and looked over. "This is a gift when I bought the cemetery. Flowers are sent every year on the anniversary of my death."

Han Zhong lowered his eyes and stared at the water droplets on the petals for a while, then bent down to take the bunch of lilies. Lao Zheng quickly reached out to stop him, "Don't! If you want to worship, I still have flowers, don't touch this."

Han Zhong tilted his head and glanced at him. "Five hundred thousand, is that enough?"

Old Zheng's face froze, and he said with a twitch of his lips, "It's not a matter of money..."

"One million. Anyway, no one is worshipping this tombstone. Maybe it's an orphan..."

"She's not an orphan—"

He blurted out these words subconsciously in an anxious voice, and the next second Lao Zheng's expression changed.

"Yes, a leading architect in the country would certainly not be short of this million dollars. But this makes me even more curious about why you accused me of being an arsonist back then."

Han Zhong looked down at the bunch of pink lilies and said, "Long time no see, Uncle Nan."

Old Zheng's face turned pale in an instant.

Rong Anzhou, who was standing by, crossed his arms and looked at him with a fake smile, "Nan Qingyu, huh? You're quite good at hiding. You've been hiding for ten years. I thought you were dead!"

Lao Zheng, or rather Nan Qingyu, opened and closed his mouth and said hoarsely, "You are..."

"Han Zhong, my mother, Li Mu, is a good friend of yours. My mother asked you to design the art gallery for my eighteenth birthday."

Han Zhong turned his back to him and recounted the events of the past word by word, "But in the end, the art museum was burned down to ruins on the first day of its completion. It was quite a pity."

"Of course, what's even more tragic is the 87 lives lost in that fire."

“…”

With every word he said, Nan Qingyu's face turned paler, until it looked ashen, as if he had aged ten years in an instant.

"sorry……"

"I'm sorry means nothing to the victim. That's what you said to me. I'm not here today to say sorry."

Han Zhong turned around and looked at him, his handsome and stern face carrying a cold sharpness, "If you still have a trace of guilt, tell me everything you know."

Nan Qingyu's lips trembled slightly, and he finally uttered, "I'm sorry..."

Han Zhong's eyes turned completely cold. Just as he was about to speak, he suddenly heard the old man in front of him tremblingly say, "I can't say it. He won't let me say it..."

Han Zhong's heart moved, and he asked, "What do you mean?"

Nan Qingyu looked up at him, his gray eyes filled with despair and fear, "They killed my daughter. If I want to tell it, I will die immediately..."

Han Zhong frowned slightly. He remembered Jiang Wu said that Nan Yi was killed by the female star named Nie Yumeng?