Under the astonished gaze of everyone.

The middle-aged man obediently stood up.

At this moment, even his facial expression began to distort.

Dirk Carter smoothly walked into the window seat and released his hand.

Only then did the middle-aged man let out a long sigh of relief and collapsed into his seat.

Nobody knew what exactly happened in that process.

But for the rest of the journey, the middle-aged man neither made noise nor trouble, not even daring to glance in Dirk Carter's direction.

Only the middle-aged man himself knew how much pain he endured the moment Dirk Carter squeezed his shoulder, so much that his throat was inexplicably blocked, unable to make a sound.

More than an hour passed quickly.

The bus hadn't reached the stop yet.

The middle-aged man hurriedly left his seat anxiously.

Dirk got off the bus.

He saw that thin figure ahead.

It was still the old man from earlier on the bus, carrying a giant suitcase that looked very heavy, unknown what was inside.

"Sir, let me help you."

Dirk ran up to him and said.

The old man waved his hand and said, "No need, I haven't even thanked you for what happened on the bus."

Dirk grabbed the suitcase from his hand.

Indeed, it was quite heavy.

"Young man, you're not from Ronan City, are you?"

While walking, he asked.

Dirk nodded and said, "I'm here to study."

"Oh, studying is good, in our days, if we had the learning environment you have today, we would laugh ourselves to death."

The old man said.

The two chatted on and off like this.

Until they exited the station.

Dirk saw the old man looking puzzled and asked, "Sir, where are you going? I'll take you there."

"Don't you have something to do?"

The old man asked.

Dirk waved his hand and said, "It's okay, it's nothing important, my classes officially start the day after tomorrow."

"If it's not a bother, then sure, I also don't know the way, getting old, I can't even hail a cab."

The old man mumbled.

Dirk hailed a car by the roadside, and after both got in, Dirk asked, "So, where to, sir?"

"Ridgehill Bluff."

The old man said.

The driver frowned, turned around, and asked, "Ridgehill Bluff, that place is remote and far, are you sure you want to go?"

Dirk saw the old man's expression suddenly become somewhat dazed.

He said, "No problem, just go, I'll pay."

The driver examined Dirk and figured he didn't seem like someone who couldn't afford it, then drove off with a step on the gas.

He wasn't wrong, Ridgehill Bluff was indeed remote and far, taking more than an hour to get there.

After getting off, it was a desolate hilltop, not a single village nearby, not even a shadow of a person.

He paid the driver extra to wait a little.

At this moment, the old man, regardless, started carrying the suitcase up the hill.

Originally, Dirk could have left at this point.

But thinking of the old man going up the hill alone, he felt uneasy and decided to follow.

About ten minutes later.

The old man stopped at a hilltop.

Dirk glanced around, apart from some weeds, there was nothing else, seemingly still able to see traces of houses from the past, but now, all covered by vegetation.

He was just about to ask the old man what he was doing here.

When he saw the old man kneel down with a thud, tears streaming down his face, "Bruiser, Little Three, Tiger, I've brought you home…"

Dirk was stunned.

Quickly asked, "Sir, what's wrong?"

The old man didn't answer him.

Instead, he opened the large suitcase.

What came into view was actually four urns.

Besides the urns, there was also a spade.

This thing logically shouldn't have been allowed on the train, how did this old man bring it?

Just as he was wondering.

The old man had already picked up the spade and started digging in a selected spot.

Dirk couldn't bear to watch anymore.

He said to the old man, "Sir, let me help you."

The old man paused, handed the spade to Dirk.

Dirk picked up the spade and got to work.

It was the end of May, and it was noon, the ground temperature was at least in the thirties.

Dirk continued to dig, sweat soaking his clothes multiple times.

The reason he persisted was because during his digging, the old man told him the reason for coming to Ridgehill Bluff.

He said his surname was Quill, named Yale Quill, 74 years old this year.

56 years ago, there was a village here at Ridgehill Bluff called Ridgehill Village, he grew up in that village.

That year, at 18 years old, when foreign enemies invaded, he and four childhood friends, Bruiser, Little Three, Tiger, joined the party's army, participating in the grand war to defend the homeland.

After that, he never missed a single battle.

Out of the five brothers, only he remained in the end.

Before their sacrifice, they all had a wish, hoping that one day their souls could return home.

This was also the old man's long-held wish.

A while ago, he finally found the last urn of Tiger, so he took the train from Argentum, bringing the urns of his four brothers to Ridgehill Village.

It was precisely because of this story.

That Dirk continued digging.

After the grave was dug.

The old man carefully placed the urns of the four into the pit Dirk had dug, along with their military medals.

The old man stared at the urns for a long time.

Reluctantly said to Dirk, "Bury them."

Dirk thought for a moment and said, "Sir, your four brothers are all martyrs, why not lay them to rest in a martyrs' cemetery or notify the local government to build separate graves for them?"

Yale Quill waved his hand, saying, "No need, they said, as long as they return home, no need for graves or plaques, coming naked into the world, leaving naked, Ridgehill Bluff is their root, let them lie in its embrace."

Such a touching speech once again.

Since the old man had already decided.

Dirk didn't argue further.

He covered the pit with soil again.

Logically, given it was a grave, at least a mound should be left, but the old man said it wasn't necessary, just fill it flat.

Once everything was done.

It was already past three in the afternoon.

Dirk was exhausted.

On the ride back to Ronan City's downtown, it was already past five in the evening.

With dust and grime all over him.

Just as Dirk was about to say goodbye, to find a hotel and rest with a good shower, the old man said, "Dirk, you've helped me, you haven't even had lunch, let me treat you to dinner."

"No need, Grandpa Quill…"

Just as he was about to refuse, fearing the old man wouldn't have a place for dinner.

He thought for a moment and said, "Why don't I treat you instead."

"Okay."

The old man agreed without hesitation, pointing to a luxurious restaurant behind them and said, "How about here at The Prosperity Residence?"

He surely knows how to choose.

Though Dirk doesn't visit the provincial capital often, he's heard of The Prosperity Residence, one of the most upscale restaurants in Ronan City, a meal would surely cost several thousand at least.

Thinking the old man is a hero.

Dirk accepted it, saying, "Alright, this one it is."

By sheer luck.

They snagged the last private room available.

Led into the private room by a waiter, Dirk handed the menu to Yale Quill.

Yale didn't hold back, ordering seven or eight dishes in one go.

And they were all quite costly.

Though Dirk winced, he bore it.

While waiting for the food, a waiter hurried in, bowing to Dirk and Yale Quill, saying, "I sincerely apologize, but I made a mistake, this private room was already reserved in advance."

What does this mean?

Are we being kicked out?

Dirk asked, "What should we do then? We've already ordered."

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