hapter 80 The Fifth Branch

Chapter 80 The Fifth Branch

Right then, police sirens cut through the crowd. A police car pulled up, and several officers bstepped /bbout/bb. /b“Who’s causing trouble here?” one asked. They were familiar with the Bridgers.

“She is!” Melvin practically lunged forward, pointing directly at Quinn. “She’s the one making a bscene /bbat /bour family’s ancestral hall. Arrest her now!”

One officer walked up to Quinn, about to speak, but when he caught sight of the cremation urn bshe /bbheld/b, wrapped in the national g, his expression changed.

“This bis/b…”

“My parents‘ ashes,” Quinn said. “I came here today for one reason only–to bring them into the bancestral /bhall, to ce memorial tablets for them.”

After a pause, one officer asked quietly, “May we ask… how did they passb?/bb” /b

“They served in the Peacekeeping Force. They were deployed overseasb… /band they didn’t make it bback/bb,/bb” /bQuinn answered.

The officers stood in solemn silence for a beat, then, in perfect sync, they straightened their postures and saluted the cremation urn.

Melvin and Marley were stunned speechless. They had been counting on the police to drag Quinn away. Instead…

“What are you doing?” Melvin barked. “Get her out of here!”

The Bridgers held considerable influence in Yarburn, so the officer advised Quinn, “We understand, ma’am. Still, maybe it’s best to leave for now. Any issues can be settled more calmly.”

“No need. I’ll say what I have to say right here,” Quinn dered. She turned to face the ancestral hall and lifted the cremation urn high in both hands.

“I, Quinn, daughter of the fifth branch of the Bridger family, return today carrying my parents‘ ashes to this ancestral hall.”

She spoke loudly and clearly, her voice echoing across the courtyard. “Once, when our country was divided and suffering, seven brothers from the fifth branch joined the war. Only one came home. My great–grandfather, Montgomery Bridger, once stood guard over this very hall. Though he never drew the lot, he took thirteen wounds defending its doors and never retreated, not even an inch. My parents, Montague and Arlene, served in the military for thirty years. They gave their lives for this country. They were fallen heroes.”

With fierce reverence, she cried out: “I, Quinn, unfilial daughter of the fifth branch, beg… brtives/b. Please open the doors and allow the ashes of my parents to rest here. Let them be honored bwith /bbmemorial /btablets!”

Her voice boomed like thunder. Everyone stared at her in stunned silence. bHer /bhands bstill /bbheld /bbthe /bcremation urn, her expression solemn, her eyes locked on the sealed doors.

Julius, watching from the edge of the crowd, couldn’t take his eyes off bher/bb. /b

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Chapter 80 The Fifth Branch

Tragic, yet steadfast–and somehow brilliant.

At that moment, no one dared to approach or drive Quinn away anymore. The Bridger bfamily’s /bfifth branch was renowned for its honor and courage. Who would dare reject a descendant like bher/bb? /b

Even Melvin and Marley stood frozen with disbelief. For Marley, the fifth branch bwas /bjust a bname /bin bthe /bfamily registry. All she really knew was that the fifth branch had long since faded into obscurity. bShe /bbhad /bno idea about the events that had shaped that branch’s history.

Standing beside his daughter, a flicker of irritation crossed Melvin’s face. He hadn’t bexpected /bQuinn bto /bshout like that in front of everyone.

But if they allowed her into the ancestral hall now, it would be a public acknowledgment of bher /bbidentity /bbas /ba member of the fifth branch–an oue that couldplicate things for him.

Thinking quickly, Melvin spoke up. “Even if you say all that, who’s bto /bsay if it’s true or not? bI /bbstill /bbthink- /b

“It’s true!” Moldred interrupted from the side. He had stayed silent until now. “bI’ve /bmet Quinn beforeb. /bbShe /blooks different now that she’s grown up, and I didn’t recognize her at first. But everything bshe /bjust bsaid/b… confirmed it. She really is the Quinn from the fifth branch!”

“But, Moldred…” Melvin tried to counter.

Just then, the heavy doors of the Bridger family’s ancestral hall slowly creaked open, drawing beveryone’s /battention. From within, an old figure emerged, supported by a walking stick, taking measured bsteps /btoward Quinn.

“Are you… Quinn of the fifth branch?” the elderly man asked.

His hair was stark white, his skin marked by deep creases, yet his gaze remained as sharp as ever. This bwas /bMurren Bridger, the current patriarch of the Bridger family and its highest authority.

“I am,” Quinn answered, locking eyes with the old man.

Murren stared at her, as if through her features he could glimpse the faces of his long–gone brothers. The Bridger family’s fifth branch was known for its loyalty and valor. He was just a boy back then, watching his seven elder brothers from the fifth branch enlist one after the other.

He remembered begging them, “Don’t go… You’ll die!”

“But if we don’t go, even more people will die,” one of his brothers had replied gently, ruffling his hair. “We’re not going to die. We’re going so more people in this country can live.”

At the time, he only half–understood. But by the time he grasped the weight of those wordsb, /bonly bone /bbrother returned alive–crippled and missing a leg.

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