It was Ji Xun’s turn to look ahead.
The pine and cypress trees flanking the cemetery stood as straight as guards, but the posture Huo Ranyin held was even straighter than the trees themselves.
People who endure a harsh childhood, if they are lucky enough to grow up, almost inevitably veer toward one of two extremes: they either become those people, or they conquer them.
“Ranyin’s parents died in a gas poisoning incident.” Ji Xun looked at Huo Ranyin, but addressed Yu Cisheng. “At the time of the incident, Ranyin was eight years old, and his memories of the situation are already blurred. Mr. Yu, you were twelve that year—do you remember anything more clearly?”
Yu Cisheng seemed surprised.
“I was very young then too, so I don’t remember many details, but…” Yu Cisheng said, “I will try my best to recall. What is it you want to know?”
“What time did the deceased die from the gas poisoning?”
“At night, I suppose,” Yu Cisheng replied. “They were discovered in the morning.”
“In other words, they were sleeping at night with the windows tightly shut, but they failed to turn off the gas, leading to a leak and death by carbon monoxide poisoning?” Ji Xun asked.
“Apart from the gas being left on, they also had the air conditioner running.”
This was a new detail Ji Xun hadn’t known.
But upon a moment’s reflection, it made the tragedy even more logical. Huo Ranyin had mentioned that his parents died during the first snowfall of that year. Given the comfortable living conditions of Xu Chengzhang and Huo Qiyu, it was very likely they had the habit of using the air conditioner. The unit would have further reduced indoor airflow, leading to the final tragedy.
“Since the gas leak occurred at night, why wasn’t Ranyin at home?” Ji Xun asked.
“Mr. Ji, don’t you really know? You know. Yet you insist on extracting the answer from my mouth again, forcing someone to endure the pain twice over.” Yu Cisheng gave a faint smile. “I suppose this is the ‘rigor’ of people in your profession.”
“You mean to say that Ranyin had left home because of yet another instance of domestic violence,” Ji Xun said in a flat, monotone voice. “And then, he went to… your house?”
“No,” Yu Cisheng replied.
“Then where did he go?”
“I heard later that he hid all night in the toy house under the slide in the residential complex.”
“It was snowing that day…” Ji Xun whispered. “If you two were that close, it should have been a simple matter for him to seek your help.”
“If you were in Huo Ranyin’s shoes, would you have asked a friend for help?” Yu Cisheng asked.
Without waiting for Ji Xun to answer, the albino man gave his umbrella a slight twirl.
The shadow that had been resting quietly beneath the umbrella swirled along with it, obscuring his face. “Everyone has a strange sort of pride, children especially so.”
After this conversation regarding the case of Huo Ranyin’s parents ended, Ji Xun stood in place for a moment. Only after he was certain he had adjusted his emotions did he walk toward Huo Ranyin.
“Actually, you don’t necessarily have to make a choice.”
As Huo Ranyin was deep in thought, a familiar voice suddenly came from behind him. He turned back to see Ji Xun standing by his side.
Ji Xun reached out and took the appraisal report that Huo Ranyin had been clutching tightly in his hand.
He knew that during those few moments of silence, Huo Ranyin had been struggling with his inner turmoil. But that didn’t matter; not everything in life can be chosen.
When it is truly impossible to make a choice, it is better to set it gently aside for the time being.
After Ji Xun took the report, Huo Ranyin’s gaze followed it, fixedly watching the paper for a moment before he finally let out a long, heavy breath.
“Let me offer a bouquet,” Huo Ranyin said.
The cemetery provided these. Even though they had hired someone to maintain the gravesite regularly, keeping the area around the headstone clean, Huo Ranyin still specifically fetched water and a cloth to wipe the dust from the stone. He lit incense, and then placed a bouquet of fresh flowers upon it.
Ji Xun and Yu Cisheng followed, each pinching incense and bowing in respect.
Having tidied up his parents’ grave, they naturally had to visit the graves of his grandparents and his uncle.
The cemetery they had purchased was quite large, and they had hired a feng shui master to point out the best spots; naturally, the stones were not all in one cluster. Huo Shanyuan’s headstone was further back.
The group moved forward once more.
After walking for a while, they first saw the marker for Huo Dongwang, and then, not far from Huo Dongwang’s grave, they spotted a small headstone.
This marker was exceptionally small—fully a size smaller than Huo Dongwang’s. Most importantly, the face of the stone was blank; there was nothing on it at all.
“Whose grave is this?” Huo Ranyin asked the staff member, feeling somewhat puzzled.
But the staff member didn’t know. Looking slightly embarrassed, he said, “This headstone was already here when I started working here. I assume it must be someone from the Huo family?”
In the Huo family cemetery, it was only natural that members of the Huo family were buried.
If the direct descendants of the Huo family didn’t know, how could an outsider possibly know?
This was a sentiment that wasn’t spoken aloud, but it seemed to be projected through the staff member’s flickering gaze.
“Is it a relative you don’t know very well?” Ji Xun guessed. “A distant branch?”
“No, that shouldn’t be it.” Huo Ranyin shook his head. “This cemetery only buries direct descendants.”
“This should be a girl from your mother’s generation who passed away young,” Yu Cisheng suddenly spoke up.
Everyone’s gaze centered on Yu Cisheng.
“I heard it from my father years ago. Before your father sold the shipyard, he had dealings with my father, and later my father researched the history of your family’s shipyard,” Yu Cisheng explained. “Perhaps he stumbled upon this incidentally. I vaguely recall him mentioning this at the dinner table.”
A major business transaction naturally requires thorough investigation.
The time Xu Chengzhang sold the Huo shipyard coincided with Huo Shanyuan’s passing. At that time, Yu Cisheng was eight years old—at an age where he was half-understanding, but still able to pick up on his family’s affairs.
Huo Ranyin and Ji Xun exchanged a glance.
They were surprised, and in that instant, they both linked this to Old Hu.
Judging by the timeline, if what Old Hu saw was definitely not Huo Ranyin’s mother or grandmother, could it be possible that what Old Hu saw was this… nameless individual buried under the blank headstone?
“Have you looked at your grandfather’s household register?” Ji Xun asked Huo Ranyin.
“I have. The only children were my uncle and my mother,” Huo Ranyin affirmed. However, he furrowed his brow. “But in the early days, household registration management wasn’t as strict as it is now. My grandfather moved from Fujian Province to Qin City; it is possible that an error occurred in registration when he changed his household file… Do you know what her name was? And how she died?”
The last two sentences were Huo Ranyin turning to ask Yu Cisheng.
“I don’t know,” Yu Cisheng said. “Even if I heard it, I’ve forgotten. But I can ask my father for you when I get back. He might still remember some details.”
That was indeed the case. Being able to remember a small detail heard at a dinner table at the age of eight was already a sign of an excellent memory; one couldn’t ask for more.
“I’m sorry to trouble you,” Huo Ranyin said.
“The records might be missing, but as long as a person existed, relevant contacts from back then should still have some impression. We can ask the Huo family’s relatives in Qin City.” Since too much time had passed, Ji Xun didn’t pin all his hopes on Yu Cisheng’s father. He pondered, “Or, we could go to Fujian and have a look.”
Huo Ranyin gave a nod of agreement.
He had not forgotten that ocean-going vessel that had gone missing in Fujian—the one that had once belonged to Huo Shanyuan and where Old Hu had worked.
Sooner or later, he would have to find time to go over and take a look.
