In the city centre, the row of elegant houses were inhabited by the wealthy and influential.
Meng Xiao, who lived in one of these houses, had her third-floor window brightly lit. Yang Yi watched from below as she pulled the window curtains closed in her nightclothes.
At that moment, Yang Yi finally felt relieved.
Her life had been good these past seven years, free from poverty and she had become more beautiful, a sign that she had moved on from her past sorrows.
Yang Yi sat in his car, his hands filled with documents about her life during those years. She had been accepted into a renowned Art Institute for postgraduate studies and pursued her master's and doctoral degrees. She had spent these years travelling around the world with her professors.
No wonder he couldn't find her; her life was fuller than he imagined.
There were also some photos in the documents, depicting her life over the years.