The manor's buildings are tall and majestic, and the ancient stone walls are covered with moss, like traces left by time.

There are exquisite carvings on the stone walls, which cast mottled shadows in the moonlight, as if telling the glorious history of the Wayne family.

The gate of the manor was closed, and the copper door knocker on the door reflected a faint light in the moonlight.

There are some ancient family emblems engraved on the stone pillars on both sides of the gate. The patterns of the emblems are a little blurred, but one can still feel the solemnity and majesty contained in them.

In front of the gate is a wide gravel road covered with fallen leaves. Those fallen leaves are like forgotten memories, lying there quietly.

Qin Yang was wearing a dark windbreaker, the color of which seemed like part of the night, perfectly blending him into the surrounding shadows.

The collar of the windbreaker was raised high, covering part of the face, leaving only a pair of bright and deep eyes.

The figure was hidden in the shadows outside the manor, like a ghost.

His footsteps were so light that they made no sound, as if he was stepping on air.

Looking through the sparse trees, I looked at the busy figures in the manor.

Today is the funeral of Thomas Wayne and his wife, and a sad and depressing atmosphere permeates the manor.

The servants, dressed in black uniforms, were busying around silently. Their movements were slow and heavy, as if they were being suppressed by an invisible force.

The black flag fluttered in the wind, making a low "whoosh" sound, as if mourning for the dead.

And he, as Bruce Wayne's new friend, expressed his condolences in a special way.

There was a look of deep sympathy and respect in his eyes, and his heart seemed to be shrouded in a heavy dark cloud.

His body was trembling slightly, not because of the cold, but because he felt the pain in Bruce's heart at the moment.

Qin Yang said in his inner monologue: "Bruce, although I can't stand by your side, my heart is with you."

He spoke silently in his heart, his voice like a bell echoing in his mind, low but firm.

His eyes were fixed on the movements in the manor, as if he was guarding Bruce.

Inside the manor, in the funeral preparation area, Bruce stood aside, his body swaying slightly as if he had lost support.

He was wearing a black suit that seemed a little too big on his thin body.

His hair was scattered messily on his forehead, and his eyes were looking ahead blankly, without a trace of life in them.

His face was thin and pale, like a piece of blank paper, without any expression.

Beside him was Alfred Pennyworth, the old butler, whispering comforting words to him.

Alfred was dressed in a black butler's uniform, his back slightly bent, like a bridge carrying too much weight.

His face is covered with wrinkles, which are like marks left by time, recording a lifetime.

There was a kind yet sad light in his eyes, his lips trembled slightly, and every word he spoke seemed to be squeezed out from the softest part of his heart.

Despite the noisy crowd around him, Bruce seemed to be in another world, and all the noise could not penetrate the silence in his heart.

He seemed to be covered by an invisible glass cover, isolated from the outside world.

It was as if my ears had lost their hearing and were deaf to all the sounds around me.

My mind was blank, immersed in the great grief of losing my parents.

Alfred said: “Master, you have done your best.

The Waynes would be proud to have a son like you."

The voice was gentle and low, like a soft breeze, trying to blow into Bruce's inner world. The hand gently rested on Bruce's shoulder, and the hand was like the branch of an old tree, rough but strong.

Bruce said in a low voice: "Alfred, I just feel that this is too unreal.

They should still be here, and we should be celebrating something together, not saying goodbye here."

The sound seemed to come from a deep valley, filled with endless sorrow.

Her lips were slightly parted, her teeth biting gently on her lower lip, as if she was trying to suppress the grief in her heart.

There were tears glistening in her eyes, and those tears were like a flood about to burst the dam, swirling in her eye sockets.

At this moment, Qin Yang used his keen perception of the environment and quietly approached Bruce.

He was like a black panther stalking in the darkness, swift and silent.

He walked through a dense bush, whose branches and leaves scratched against his windbreaker, making a slight rustling sound, but the sound was drowned out by the surrounding noise.

He walked along a path that was rarely traveled by, which was covered with weeds and stones. He walked carefully to avoid the stones as if he was walking on a tightrope.

The two were able to meet in a relatively secluded corner.

The corner was shaded by a huge oak tree, whose branches and leaves formed a huge umbrella, providing them with a small hidden space.

The trunk of the oak tree is thick and old, and the bark is rough and cracked, like the skin of a weathered old man.

Qin Yang said softly: "Bruce, I'm here."

The sound was as soft as the sound of a feather falling, but to Bruce's ears it was like a bright light that penetrated the darkness in his heart.

She crouched down slightly, keeping her eye level with Bruce's, her eyes full of tenderness and concern.

Bruce's head snapped up, his movement as sudden as if he had been electrocuted.

His eyes widened, a hint of surprise flashing across them, then quickly replaced by emotion.

There were tears sparkling in her eyes, and those tears were like diamonds shining in the sun, crystal clear.

He didn't expect that at such a moment, Qin Yang would choose to accompany him in this way.

Bruce said in a low voice with a hint of sob: "Qin Yang, you... why are you here?" His voice trembled with excitement, and his lips were slightly open, as if he had a thousand words to say but didn't know where to start.

Her body seemed to have found support and leaned slightly towards Qin Yang.

Qin Yang said gently: "I know how difficult this is for you.

Although I cannot change the past, I hope that in my own way, I can make you feel a little warmth and support. "

The voice was gentle yet firm, like a soothing lullaby.

The hand gently rested on Bruce's arm, and that hand was like a warm current, slowly flowing into Bruce's heart.

Bruce smiled bitterly and said, "Thank you, Qin Yang.

On days like this, your presence comforts me more than any words could."

A smile is like a small flower blooming in the darkness, fragile but full of hope.

His eyes were full of gratitude, like a dry land encountering sweet rain.

Qin Yang patted Bruce on the shoulder and said, "Bruce, remember, sadness is temporary, but the power you possess is eternal.

The Waynes would like to see you go on and become a son they are proud of." (End of chapter)