Old Joseph bought all ten lilies in one breath.

The little boy took out a large piece of colored paper from the newspaper he was carrying. Old Joseph roughly wrapped the lilies into the colored paper and handed it to Fucheng. After thinking about it, he took it back and carefully folded the corner of the colored paper before handing it to Fucheng seriously.

"Please give it to Harrison's mother for me, and I hope she won't indulge in the sad tragedy and can get out as soon as possible."

Fucheng looked at him and nodded: "Okay."

Old Joseph turned around and walked into the investigation headquarters. Fucheng held a large bouquet of lilies and walked towards the Bentley parked on the road. At this time, a crisp and tender voice sounded from a distance: "Sir, do you want to buy my flowers too? That's great, these flowers are all grown by myself, and I will donate the money I sold to the leukemia tissue."

Fucheng looked up and looked up.

In the bright and warm sunshine, the man leaned down, closed his eyes, and sniffed a large bouquet of flowers in the boy's hand. The boy looked at him with bright eyes, opened his eyes, took out an LV wallet from his coat pocket, and took out a stack of hundred dollar bills from it.

"I want it all."

The boy was stunned and quickly grabbed Zhuo Huan's sleeve: "No, sir, these only cost 78 US dollars in total."

Mr. Zhuo laughed from his nose: "You just said you would donate it to leukemia tissue?"

Boy: "Yes."

"In addition to the $20 and $98 I got from selling flowers just now, I can't afford a single tube of medicine. Can leukemia tissues look down on your money?"

"……ah?"

Mr. Zhuo sneered and flipped through the only rose in the bouquet with disgust: "Next time, I like roses."

The blonde boy probably had never seen anyone give him money so fiercely. He stayed in place, holding at least $5,000 in his hand, and was at a loss.

Uncle Zhuo took the big bouquet and walked towards the gate of the investigation headquarters. When he passed by Fucheng, he stretched out his hand and threw a big bouquet into Fucheng's arms without hesitation. "Help me deal with it."

Fucheng turned around: "Teacher Zhuo?"

Zhuo Huan: "Aren't you going to give flowers to others? You can deliver them together, otherwise you can find a trash can to throw them away." After saying that, he turned around without looking back and waved his hand behind.

Fucheng smiled and said, "Okay."

***

Black Bentley heads downtown along the coast of Boston Bay.

Boston is a seaside city with a high latitude. When winter comes, it is difficult to see such a brilliant sunny day. It is always surrounded by blizzards. The cold and severe winter is synonymous with Boston.

Deputy Captain Tim Harrison's mother lives in a hotel in downtown Boston. Fucheng had called in advance and he knocked on the door of the hotel room. The door opened, and a brunette woman with a pale face and slightly red eyes opened the door for him.

Fucheng: "Hello, Mrs. Harrison, I am the investigator of this accident. I am affiliated with the UAAG investigation team. My name is Fucheng." He took out his work ID from his pocket.

Mrs. Harrison nodded slightly, pulled open the anti-theft chain and asked him to enter the house.

This hotel is not very high-end in Boston. It is called a hotel, but it is more like a small hotel. If someone stays in such a hotel for a long time, they will not clean it every day. They will only send someone if you call the front desk and ask the hotel to arrange someone to clean the room.

Mrs. Harrison had obviously lived in this room for a long time.

She was familiar with bringing a chair to Fucheng.

Fucheng: "I'll do it myself, ma'am."

Mrs. Harrison: "How old are you?"

Fucheng was stunned.

Mrs. Harrison showed a pale and powerless smile: "Don't get me wrong, I just see you very young. I know some people from airlines, my husband and son are pilots. I have also met some NTSB investigators many years ago, and I have seen a few in recent days. But I rarely see you as young as you are. Are you 25 years old?"

Fucheng: "I am 26 years old this year."

Mrs. Harrison was stunned: "You are as big as Tim."

The choking sound rang softly, and Fucheng silently handed over the tissue.

Fucheng: "Madam, then I will speak straight to the point. Please don't be too sad and ruin your body. I don't think Tim wants to see you crying every day. I came here today to learn from you what kind of person Tim is usually like, what kind of personality he has... These are very useful for investigation."

Mrs. Harrison wiped her tears and said in a hoarse voice: "I know, I will cooperate with you. Tim is a good child. He was only nine years old when his father passed away. I was too sad at that time and could not see his father's body. I really couldn't bear it. Tim took the initiative to ask him to pick up Michael..."

Optimistic, cheerful, and very good at socializing.

Although his father died in an air crash at the age of nine, this did not affect Tim Harrison's love for flight. When he grew up, he persuaded his mother to get into flight school and become a pilot.

Mrs. Harrison sobbed and said softly. Listening to her words, Fucheng slowly wrote down the short life of this young man who was the same age as her on his tablet.

Mrs. Harrison has stopped her son, even if he wants to be a pilot, she should not go to American Airlines again. His father died on American Airlines' plane and she would never want to hear the name again. But Tim received an offer from American Airlines, and there were many old friends of his father there.

"I will not make my father's fault again. My father is an excellent pilot, mom, I always think so."

From the first glance of Fucheng when she saw her, Mrs. Harrison showed a real smile for the first time. She looked at her son's photos with nostalgic and loving eyes, and repeated what her son had said.

It was a group photo, the young and laughing Tim Harrison stood on the lawn, holding his mother's shoulders, laughing happily.

Fucheng thought for a moment and said, "Seventeen years ago, the American Airlines Flight 384 crash could not be said to be Mr. Harrison's fault. The bad weather is the main reason, and no one wants to see such a tragedy."

Mrs. Harrison looked at him and said, "Thank you." She continued, "But I know that Michael did not make the best choice. He was responsible for that accident. But I believe that this time it was not Tim's fault. He worked hard and he was serious. He was a smart kid and he would do his best to save the plane."

Fu Cheng looked at her and told her that the investigation team had found out that the plane was rushing into the water at a speed.

The two talked for a long time, and Fucheng's heart had outlined the image of Tim Harrison.

As the sky got darker, Fucheng stood up and said goodbye to her: "Thank you, I hope you will be mourning."

"I'll take you out."

The two walked towards the door of the room together, and Fucheng picked up the bouquet of lily flowers he placed in the entrance hall: "Mrs. Harrison, this is for you. I hope you can get out of your sadness as soon as possible." However, what he did not expect was that after seeing this bouquet of flowers, Mrs. Harrison's expression suddenly changed. She opened her eyes wide and stared at the bouquet of white lily flowers.

Hate, grief, despair and hysterical anger.

It is hard to imagine that such complex emotions would appear in the eyes of a woman who is overly sad. This suppressed almost all her sadness, leaving only a strong and suffocating hatred. Then soon, all the hatred turned into tears, and she cried bitterly.

Mrs. Harrison pressed her hand on the bouquet of lilies: "No, thank you, but I don't want to accept it. My husband's favorite thing in his lifetime was the lilies, but I never want to see it again."

Fucheng was surprised. He was silent for a while and took the flowers back.

"Please express your grief."

Back in the car, Fucheng looked at the bouquet of lilies in his hand and did not turn his eyes away for a long time.

When he returned to the investigation headquarters, he handed the bouquet of lilies and the big bouquet that Zhuo Huan bought to the driver: "Give it to you, you can do whatever you want."

The driver was stunned: "Okay, sir."

Before getting off the car, Fucheng stopped moving, and he turned around and picked the only rose from the big bouquet.

In the coming and going Boston Bay, the sharp chirping of seagulls and the sound of waves slapping the shore for thousands of years, as well as the laughter of tourists. Fucheng got off the car and walked towards the investigation headquarters. He was halfway through, and saw a familiar person by the beach, and his footsteps paused. Fucheng was stunned for a long time before walking over.

"Teacher Zhuo?"

Zhuo Huan turned around and saw that it was Fucheng.

Bitting his mouthpiece, his voice seemed hoarse with nicotine: "Come back?"

The man's handsome and elegant eyebrows seemed to be far away, hazy and unreal. The only real thing was the smell of smoke that forced into his heart and lungs. Fu Cheng suddenly felt a little dry, and Mrs. Harrison's crying and hatred sounded in his ears, and he became irritated.

Standing by the beach, looking at the sea illuminated by the sunset from afar.

Fucheng's voice became cold, and he no longer pretended during the day: "Is there any smoke?"

Seeing him like this, Zhuo Huan's eyes flashed and he laughed: "No, just one. Do you?" As he said that, he held a cigarette in his fingers, took it out of his mouth very friendly, and handed it to Fucheng.

Fucheng: "..."

Don't you think it's dirty!

Fu Cheng was not interested in smoking the same cigarette as a man, and he expressed his rejection with a cold attitude.

Zhuo Huan shouted, glanced at him casually, and bit his cigarette holder.

“Send it to you.”

Zhuo Huan turned his head and saw Fucheng holding a rose in his hand and put it in front of him.

His breathing suddenly stopped, and he slowly raised his head.

In the sunset, in the salty sea breeze, the beautiful young man seemed to have never thought too much. He didn't think that giving roses to a man was such an ambiguous act. In other words, it was precisely because the gift was given to a man that he could be so casual.

The rich and bitter smell of smoke in his mouth seemed to be mixed with a sweet candy smell in a trance. Zhuo Huan slowly curled the corners of his mouth, looked at the young man in front of him with cold and elegant eyes, and quietly waited for him to speak.

Fucheng: "The others were dealt with. You said you like roses, so you left one."

Zhuo Huan took the rose: "Thank you."

Will Mr. Zhuo say thank you to him?

Fucheng looked at him quietly for a while, but saw Zhuo Huan keeping his head down at the roses in his hand, not paying attention to his gaze.

The bitter smell of smoke, the faint fragrance of flowers, and the fishy smell of the oncoming sea breeze.

I don't know why the irritability in my heart was as if the wrinkles were ironed, and my mouth and tongue suddenly surged, and the uncontrollable addiction to smoking gradually disappeared. Even he didn't notice that Fucheng stood closer to the man. He stood shoulder to shoulder and said, "There is something I find strange today, but I think it may be related to American Airlines 384 17 years ago and to old Joseph."

Zhuo Huan's eyes moved away from the roses.

With eyes facing each other, Fucheng asked seriously: "Teacher Zhuo, what's wrong with the 384 US Airlines 17 years ago... Is it something that outsiders don't know?"

The author has something to say:

Fu Chengcheng: Teacher Zhuo, does roses smell like?
Chapter completed!