Feng Mountain stood by the parapet on the roof. The sunlight spilled over him, but it couldn't warm his heart, which now felt a little cold.
He gazed at the distant sea.
The lighthouse was still standing tall over the water, just as it always had, lonely yet resolute.
He just wondered if the paint that had once been smeared on it had been cleaned off by now.
Feng Mountain couldn't help but recall the decision he'd made before leaving for Alaska.
He'd been impulsive and reckless back then, acting on a hot-blooded whim without considering the consequences.
Thinking back on it now, he couldn't help but feel a little regret and self-reproach.
Just as Feng Mountain was lost in his thoughts, the sound of footsteps approaching from behind broke the momentary silence.
Feng Mountain froze for a moment, then slowly turned to see a middle-aged security guard walking straight toward him, carrying a short baton.
As the guard got closer, he asked with a hint of uncertainty in his eyes.
