Standing Next To You-Chapter 556: The Grave II

The car drove through another city. Compared to the other graveyards they had visited, this one was much closer to the capital.

From the outside, it didn’t look like a graveyard at all. Although the land was vast, it was underdeveloped. After all, this was a private burial ground that had existed for a long time but had never been open to the public—until recently, when ownership changed.

That was why Fei Chuan’s team had only discovered its existence much later than the rest.

Assistant Cheng stepped out of the car and surveyed the area. The graveyard was similar to the previous ones they had visited, with lush greenery and rows of scattered trees. Tombstones dotted the field, but they were so few in number that he could count them on one hand. novelbuddy.cσ๓

Combing through this place will be easy.

Assistant Cheng looked around, thinking they would finish soon.

He waited for instructions from his boss, but Fei Chuan remained silent.

Glancing over, Assistant Cheng saw Fei Chuan standing in a daze. It was the first time he had ever seen his boss look so lost and confused.

Fei Chuan felt an overwhelming sense of familiarity—an eerie déjà vu.

The way the trees stood in neat rows, the way the grass spread across the field, the way the wind passed through—it all felt too familiar.

He had stood here before. Just like now, standing beside his car.

"I’ve been here before..." Fei Chuan muttered.

He took a step forward, and in that instant, a flash of memory surfaced in his mind.

He saw himself walking... His shoes pressing against the grass... Walking this path over and over again... With a purpose.

Then, suddenly, he halted.

Before him stretched a vast field with scattered trees. Beyond them stood a row of towering acacia trees. And past that, another grass field.

Where... where was he supposed to go?

Fei Chuan took a deep breath and let his feet decide.

He walked past the scattered graves without glancing at the names. He didn’t stop by the tombstones standing beneath the acacia trees.

Assistant Cheng, who had found a few graves resembling the sketch they had been searching for, wanted to call out to him. But Fei Chuan remained steadfast in his steps.

He kept walking.

Through the row of acacia trees.

Beyond them, another open field.

This time, only a couple of graves stood there. But he ignored them and walked further.

Until he stopped.

Before an acacia tree.

Assistant Cheng followed, looking at the same tree.

There was no grave in front of it.

It was just a tree.

But Fei Chuan saw something else.

And he felt something different.

As he walked closer and closer, a sudden jolt ran through his heart. A deep, unshakable melancholy washed over him—an ache so raw, it cut through his chest.

He stopped abruptly, pressing a hand against his chest. It felt as if a massive weight had settled there, suffocating him with every step. As if something inside him was resisting—wanting to turn away, to avoid remembering.

Yet, at the same time, he didn’t want to forget.

It was a strange, foreign yet familiar feeling—one that Fei Chuan couldn’t quite describe or decipher.

He halted in front of the tree, his feet rooted to the ground. He stood there, motionless, drowning in emotions that had no clear source.

This tree... It felt so familiar, yet so distant.

As if it had been here all along, silently witnessing his weakest moments.

His hand trembled as he reached out, confusion flickering in his eyes. His fingertips brushed against the tree’s rough bark—

And then—

A flash of memory.

In that memory, he reached out as well. But his hand was thinner, aged. Tears streamed down his face.

A deep, soul-crushing regret stabbed through him.

Fei Chuan jerked his hand away as if burned. His breath came out unsteady as he turned away from the tree, his gaze shifting to the empty field.

But in his eyes, the field wasn’t empty.

It was filled with graves. Freshly planted trees surrounded them.

He looked down. His feet were trampling a bouquet of flowers, crushing them beneath his shoes.

And in that fragmented vision, he saw himself—standing in this very place, stomping on the flowers in anger.

Fei Chuan’s body trembled.

These... These were the scenes from his dreams.

Standing here, the forgotten dreams came creeping back, piece by piece.

Slowly, he lifted his head to the sky. The bright sky above darkened, heavy with the weight of an impending storm.

Then—rain.

Droplets fell.

Fei Chuan wiped his face instinctively, but his hand came away dry.

He looked up again.

The sky was clear. There was no sign of rain.

Reality snapped back into place.

"Boss?"

Assistant Cheng’s voice finally broke through the silence. He had been watching Fei Chuan’s every move—his determined walk, the way he touched the tree with an unreadable expression, the way he suddenly looked around as if searching for something lost.

Something about the way Fei Chuan acted sent a chill down his spine.

Assistant Cheng hesitated, then stepped closer, concern evident in his voice. "Boss, are you alright?"

Fei Chuan turned his gaze to Assistant Cheng—

And saw something else.

For a moment, the man before him was different.

Older. His sideburns streaked with white.

He was holding an umbrella, shielding Fei Chuan from the pouring rain. His expression was soft, filled with quiet pity.

"You should stop coming here," the older Cheng said gently. "You should let go of the dead. Please... continue living, Master."

Fei Chuan staggered back, his face deathly pale.

Assistant Cheng noticed the strange expression on Fei Chuan’s face and grew even more concerned, thinking his boss must have been possesed by a bad spirit here. "Boss, I think we should get back to the car."

But Fei Chuan barely heard him.

His back pressed against the rough bark of the acacia tree, and suddenly—he felt it.

The sensation of sitting on a patch of grass with the tree’s trunk behind him. A drink in his hand.

And a grave beside him.

"You don’t get to drink much, do you?" A voice—his own—spoke from deep within his memories. "I saw you sipping wine, but your glass never truly emptied. Are you afraid of being poisoned, so you just pretend to drink?" He chuckled, "Well, it can’t be help. You have a lot of enemies, after all."

Fei Chuan’s eyes shook.

What... What were these memories?

Were they just dreams? Or something more?

Because they felt too real. As if he had lived them.

Slowly, his gaze shifted to the empty field beside the acacia tree.

And then—before his very eyes—a grave began to take shape.

The same grave from his dreams.

The source of his regrets. His remorse. His pain.

Flowers appeared—freshly placed. Then, they withered and dried. Fallen leaves scattered over the stone. Then rain pooled beside it. Grass grew wild, then was neatly trimmed.

The seasons changed.

But the grave had never been abandoned.

Because he had been taking care of it.

Fei Chuan’s legs gave out beneath him. He collapsed onto the ground.

This... This was the place.

Even though the grave was missing, this was the place from his dreams.

It existed.

With trembling hands, Fei Chuan reached forward.

Slowly, he brushed away the overgrown grass—just like he had done in his dreams.

And then—though there was nothing but dirt beneath his fingers—his eyes saw something else.

A gravestone.

As if it had always been there.

The inscription slowly revealed itself.

In loving memory of—

—Bei Sangyun.

Fei Chuan’s hand froze.

His entire being felt as if it had been struck by lightning.