Fang Zhiyuan slumped onto the sofa in his living room, twisting open a half-empty bottle of water he'd just grabbed from the fridge. With one long gulp, the icy chill coursed through his body, clearing his mind instantly.
After enduring an all-night video conference, he had finally said goodbye to his American client as their workday came to an end. Taking a moment, he glanced at the barrage of messages that had filled his phone throughout the night. He frowned, and without hesitation, deleted them all, and couldn't care less how urgent they were.
He had thought about taking a short nap, but the morning sunlight had already crept past the curtains, slowly spilled across his desk—a gentle reminder that a new day had begun.
He slid open the door to the small balcony and stepped into the morning breeze.
Bathed in the soft sunlight, he looked down at the low-rise buildings of the old neighborhood below, where everything seemed so peaceful and calm. This luxury development was part of the city's urban renewal project, marketed for its riverside location. He had chosen this flat for its prime balcony view, offering a front-row seat to the gleaming skyline across the river. But now, he had no desire to admire it. Instead, his eyes drifted downward, to the jumble of aging buildings and rust-stained balconies below.
That old neighborhood…
The place he had once been so eager to escape, determined to carve out a future on the other side of the river.
And yet, here he was, back again.
No matter how deeply you long for a place, reality rarely grants you the chance to stay.
That old neighbourhood, like his childhood home, was soon to be demolished and rebuilt.
How much longer could he enjoy this view?
Since returning to China, he'd been on the road nonstop, travelling from city to the next. But after six grueling months, his body finally gave out. He accepted Xie Yufan's offer to partner up, settling down in the city where he had been born and raised. As life slowed, the familiar surroundings began to stir long-buried memories.
He often wondered how she had changed over these six years.
Maybe someone else was staying by her side now, someone who hadn't fled, not like him.
Yes—fled. No other word came closer.
The way he had chosen to disappear without so much as a backward glance. He had always been decisive. And once he made up his mind to walk away, he accepted everything that came with it, including regret.
But some regrets grow unbearable over time, until they become too heavy to bear.. He wanted to know how she was doing. So, following his heart, he began searching for any sign of her.
Maybe, just maybe, she was still waiting, foolishly, in the same place.
He relied on Old Guo, a seasoned expert in the private Investigation industry, confident that news of her would come soon. A week passed, then a month, and year after year. Old Guo's confidence gradually turned to dejection, and Fang Zhiyuan grew increasingly anxious. In their line of work, it was said that there was no one Old Guo couldn't find.
By then, "maybe" had vanished from Fang Zhiyuan's thoughts, replaced by a growing sense of dread.
He was beginning to panic.
---------------------------------------
Though Old Guo failed to find Cheng Yi, he did manage to locate her closest friend, Yang Li, salvaging some of his reputation.
Yang Li worked as a nurse in a small hospital. Fang Zhiyuan summoned the courage to signed up for a physical and queued up for a blood test. Disinfect, insert the needle, draw blood, remove the needle, press with cotton, and call for the next patient. It was all mechanical, swift, detached. When his turn came, he called her name softly. Yang Li looked up, the surprise in her eyes was impossible to hide, even behind the thick-rimmed glasses. She drew in a sharp breath and froze, hands midair. It wasn't until the murmurs of the growing queue behind him snapped her back to reality that she resumed her movements, quickly jabbing the needle into his arm.
It hurt. Blood flowed swiftly through the tube into the vial.
"Next!"
Yang Li's composure returned, as if she hadn't recognised the man before her.
This wasn't the place for a conversation, Fang Zhiyuan had no choice but to walk away, frustrated.
After her shift, as Yang Li left the changing room, she saw Fang Zhiyuan waiting in the corridor. She wasn't even surprised. He had never been one to give up easily. If he wanted something, he wouldn't rest until he got it, and he always got straight to the point.
"Yang Li, do you have any news of her?"
"No."
"When was the last time you saw her?"
"Six years ago."
"Is there anything else?"
"Nothing."
In less than a minute, he had gleaned all the information he could after a year of searching.
This proud man didn't beg her for help, which Yang Li found disdainful. She turned to leave, but then she heard something she had never expected.
"Yang Li... please... is she still alive?"
A plea? She stopped in her tracks, hardly believing her ears, and turned back.
Then she saw something she never thought she'd see in him
Desperation.
She sneered, scoffing as she quickened her pace.
This man, cold and heartless, deserved every bit of the suffering he was going through now.