Talk

There was a light drizzle around three in the morning, and the road leading to the cemetery was humid.

It was a cemetery that Maury had picked for himself when he was alive. It was not in the city center but in a rural area. Before and after Qingming Festival, there were not many people. It was very empty and quiet.

The guard was an old man. After he supervised them to fill in the registration form, he took off his glasses and sat down on the chair to smoke. Harold took out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and handed one to him. The old man smelled it and knew it was good. He said a few words to Harold and became politer.

After all, rich people would not choose the cemetery here, so they were trifled with it.