Accident on the seventh day

Jackie frowned, his gaze falling on the unrecognizable bowl in front of him. Weary, he replied, "Got it."

The phone call ended, and he stood up, took out his wallet, and handed the money to the boss. However, the boss didn't take it and smiled, saying, "Did you forget that the young girl just paid for you?"

Jackie looked up, meeting the boss's smiling eyes. He didn't smile back; instead, his mouth twitched, and his handsome face lost all expression.

As he turned away, the boss politely said from behind, "Take care, visit often! But perhaps you shouldn't try the spicy bean curd anymore. Except for the girl who used to come with her boyfriend years ago and could eat two bowls of it, and now this young girl today; I haven't seen anyone with their taste buds as fiery as theirs in these years. Haha..."

Jackie pretended not to hear, stepping into the bustling crowd, appearing somewhat lost.

As the night grew darker, Jane sat on an open-air flower bed, gazing at the sparkling neon lights in the distance, feeling like a homeless person with no place to go. No matter how she had persuaded herself to please Jackie and go along with him when they met again, she couldn't actually do it.

They used to come here together, eating bean curd with affectionate gestures, as if the whole world owed him something. Was it because Jane died?

Ha, it had been almost three months since Jane died; Jackie definitely didn't just find out from the news this morning. So, what had he been doing in these three months? Now he came here to mourn and reminisce, walking the path they had once walked together, but did he not feel that it was too late?

No, it had already been too late a long, long time ago.

Every person passing under the neon lights seemed like a fleeting soul. Jane felt swallowed up by a whirlpool, and she suddenly stood up, heading straight for Kyoto Airport, only to find out that the latest flight had already taken off. Seeing her desperation, someone next to her kindly suggested, "You can take the high-speed train. If you leave now, you can arrive in Silver City tomorrow morning."

She turned towards the high-speed train station, clutching her train ticket, and her heart raced. Ticket check, waiting for the train, finding her seat – as she looked at the pitch-black night outside the window, Jane closed her eyes. She was going back. Would she wake up from her sleep and realize that everything had just been a nightmare?

There weren't many people on the late-night train, and most of the train compartments were empty. The rows of white seats were eerily deserted. Occasionally, a stewardess would come by and ask if anyone needed a late-night meal or snacks. Jane squinted, half asleep and half awake. The speeding train chased after the footsteps of the sun, gradually pulling apart the daylight. By the time dawn appeared outside the window, the train arrived at its destination.

The familiar skyline of Silver City, the familiar southern accents, and even the humidity in the air made Jane feel like she had traveled to another world. First, she went to her own home, the top-notch villa district in the city. They used to live there together, her and William Blake, and she had never moved out.

However, when she arrived at the doorstep, Jane didn't get out of the taxi because through the half-opened car window, she saw that the villa was under renovation. The arrangement in the courtyard, the color of the exterior walls, and even the roof... everything was different from before.

The driver noticed her staring and asked, "Miss, are you looking for someone or what? We've arrived." Yet, even the driver didn't rush to leave upon seeing this luxurious and extensive villa. With a hint of resentment towards the wealthy, he thought to himself, "What's the use of living in such a big house? In the end, we all just become ashes, no matter if the urn is made of gold. Maybe a few hundred years later, someone will dig it up. I say, as long as you have enough money to spend, that's all that matters. Rich people just love to make a fuss. They demolish perfectly good villas and then renovate them again. It's really boring!"

Jane didn't reply. She saw her empty garden, not a single flower she had planted remained. William Blake and Shayla had done an amazing job... Under the reputation of being a good husband, William Blake refused to sell this villa. So, he decided to demolish it and rebuild it as his love nest with Shayla. After all, Jane's loved ones were all dead.

"Master, I'm sorry, I think I got the address wrong. Can you take me to this place instead...?" Jane withdrew her gaze and smiled at the driver, giving him a new address.

"Alright!" The driver turned around and chuckled. "Little miss, I was just thinking earlier. You probably got the place wrong. In the wealthy areas of the metropolis, everyone is either rich or powerful. When you come here, you're probably just focused on looking at other people's houses. Your eyeballs are going to pop out!"

If it weren't for the ongoing renovations at Jane's villa and the numerous workers coming and going, they wouldn't even be able to enter this villa area, Jane was well aware of that.

However, being born into a wealthy family, Jane never felt that being rich was a wrongdoing. Even though she was arrogant and willful, she never did anything morally corrupt or harmful. She never harmed anyone. Having money couldn't be used as a reason to deprive her family of their lives.

Then, the taxi stopped in front of a residential area, and Jane paid the fare and got off.

She was very familiar with Dorsey's house. Standing at the front door, she pressed the doorbell. Jane's heart felt heavy, worrying and anxious because of the mobile phone that had announced its shutdown. She hoped Dorsey would open the door immediately, just like before, sleepily complaining before letting her in...

The door opened from the inside, and through the crack of the security door, Jane saw a worn-out middle-aged woman. She scanned Jane from head to toe and asked, "Who are you looking for?"

It was Dorsey's mother. Jane recognized her.

But Dorsey's mother didn't recognize the transformed Jane, who had become Mallory.

Jane spoke up, her voice trembling, and her fingers instinctively fidgeting in front of her. "I... I was looking for Dorsey..."

As soon as Dorsey's mother heard this name, her face filled with sorrow, and her eyes lost their sparkle. "My daughter had a car accident over two months ago. She passed away," she said, lifting her gaze to Jane. "What brings you here?" Upon seeing Jane's tear-streaked face, Dorsey's mother grew more puzzled. "Young girl, did you know my daughter?"

Jane sobbed, but she forced herself to fabricate a lie. "I... I was a student of hers during her time as a university volunteer teacher. I always admired Professor Dorsey, and coincidentally, I had some business in Silver City this time, so I wanted to visit her..."

Jane knew almost everything about Dorsey's situation, so Dorsey's mother didn't suspect a thing. It seemed as if she was reminiscing about a distant memory and managed to squeeze out a faint smile. "Child, come in and have a seat," she said, opening the security door and welcoming Jane inside.

The interior of the house remained largely unchanged, except for being considerably neater and tidier. As Jane turned around, she noticed a black-and-white memorial photo hanging on the living room wall. In the photo, Dorsey had a smile on her face, but her eyes seemed to be gazing at Jane with a hint of unwillingness.

"Here, have some water," Dorsey's mother poured her a glass, and as she followed Jane's gaze to the memorial photo on the wall, she spoke with a smile. "Don't cry, my child. Each person has their own fate, and Auntie didn't expect to outlive my daughter. That day was the seventh day after the passing of Dorsey's closest friend. It was late, and she was driving back alone. Perhaps, due to excessive sorrow, her attention was too scattered, and she collided head-on with a truck... loaded with cargo... When her father and I arrived at the hospital, we could hardly... hardly recognize her..." As she spoke, Dorsey's mother couldn't help but cry in sorrow.