My Father's Wrath

My grandfather died heroically overseas defending the country decades ago. For all these years, my father, Jason Pearson, has never given up searching for my grandfather's remains, dedicating decades of his heart and soul to the quest. Just one month before my father's engagement banquet, the long-awaited good news finally arrived: my grandfather's remains had been found. When I heard the news, I was in my overseas study apartment, organizing documents, and my father's voice on the other end trembled with emotion he could no longer suppress. "Victoria, your grandfather... we've found him." The hand holding the phone suddenly clenched tightly, and tears fell uncontrollably. My father had told me my grandfather's story since I was a child. My grandfather was a brave soldier who had rushed to the battlefield without hesitation—and never returned. Over the years, my father often stared silently at my grandfather's only black-and-white photograph, whispering, "Dad, I will find you and bring you home." Now, this long-held wish was finally on the verge of coming true. "Dad, this is wonderful—truly wonderful." I said, my voice choking with emotion. "Yes, it's wonderful." My father's voice trembled with emotion as well. "However, there's one problem. The officials handling the transfer said the family must go overseas in person to receive the ashes." I immediately understood my father's hesitation. With his engagement banquet only a month away, and as head of the Pearson Family, there were many responsibilities he had to attend to personally—he simply couldn't leave. "Dad, I'll go." I didn't hesitate for a moment. "I'll begin the return procedures immediately and promise to bring my grandfather's ashes back before your engagement banquet." My father paused briefly, then his voice carried a sense of relief: "Victoria, thank you for your hard work." "It's no trouble at all. Bringing my grandfather home is what I am meant to do." After hanging up, I immediately started packing my bags. My studies overseas could be put on hold for now; bringing my grandfather home was more important than anything else. I completed the return procedures as swiftly as possible and booked the earliest flight to the overseas handover location. After more than ten hours of flying, the airplane finally touched down at the overseas airport. As I stepped out of the airport, the staff responsible for the handover was already waiting for me at the exit. They were dressed in crisp uniforms, holding a black urn, their faces solemn. The moment I saw that urn, my heart felt as if gripped tightly by an invisible hand, and my eyes instantly filled with tears. "Hello, are you Victoria Pearson?" One of the staff members stepped forward and asked politely. I nodded firmly. "Yes, I am. I am Victoria." "These are the ashes of your grandfather, Victor Pearson. Please kindly confirm receipt." The staff carefully placed the urn into my hands. I received the urn with both hands; though light, it felt heavier than a thousand pounds. These are my grandfather's ashes—the ashes of the hero who sacrificed himself for our country. "Thank you all. I truly appreciate your help." I bowed deeply to the staff. "It is our duty. Heroes deserve every ounce of respect." The staff bowed in return.