He refused business, lost his temper with his employees, couldn't settle down to work, and was unwilling to walk into his office, afraid to see the empty chair Han Yan had left behind.

  On the fourth day, he arrived at the factory early, sat behind his desk, and was surprisingly silent. The whole day, he didn′t say a word, didn′t handle any work matters, and didn′t even go out for lunch. He just sat there, lost in thought, staring at Han Yan's chair. Then, when dusk arrived, he suddenly jumped up, walked out of the factory, and strode toward the car. He opened the door and quickly got inside, eager to start the engine.

  After a day of reflection, he had figured it out—he had finally figured it out! He had rid himself of the traditional view of "virginity," and his entire heart, his whole will, and all his emotions were calling out for Han Yan's name. Han Yan! How foolish I′ve been! He called in his heart.

  How could this tarnish your perfection? You are so true, so pure, so kind, so graceful, so lofty, like a white cloud... What could damage your perfection? Yet I foolishly pced society's sins upon you! How foolish I am, Han Yan; I am the most foolish fool in the world! The most foolish, the most unforgivable, the cruelest, the most vulgar! I actually valued "virginity" like any common fool! Oh, Han Yan! I wasted three whole days, dragging us both into the abyss of pain. I am a fool! The greatest fool in the world!

  The car sped through the streets and alleys, heading straight toward the pce where Han Yan lived. His heart was beating more wildly than the car's engine. He was desperate to see Han Yan, desperate! The car stopped at the entrance of the alley. He jumped out of the car, rushing into the alley at such speed, constantly praying in his heart: Don′t go out, Han Yan, you must be at home! I have thousands of things to say to you; you have to be at home! But... he turned back and thought, Even if you're not at home, it doesn′t matter. I will stand at your door and wait until you return. Today, I must see you! I must!

  He stopped in front of Han Yan's door. Just as he raised his hand, a rge red paper sign on the door reading "House for Rent" suddenly caught his eye. He was taken aback, and his heart quickly prayed: No, no, Han Yan, you can′t leave; you absolutely cannot!

  He knocked on the door, but there was no sound from inside. A sense of ominous premonition made his heart grow cold. He knocked again, harder this time. This time, there was a response—a sound of slippers dragging across the floor, coming toward the door. Then, the door opened, but it wasn′t Han Yan. It was an old woman with her hair tied up in a bun.

  "Sir, are you looking to rent a pce?" the old woman asked.

  "No, I'm looking for a young dy, Miss Zhang," he said urgently.

  "Miss Zhang moved out."

  "Moved out?" His head spun, and his limbs went cold. "When did she move?"

  "Last night." The old woman turned away, as if to close the door. He stepped forward quickly, blocking her from shutting it. "Do you know where she moved to?"

  "I don't know."

  "Do you know where her foster parents' house is?" he asked again, a sense of near despair filling his heart.

  "I don't know; I don′t know anything." The old woman said impatiently and tried to shut the door again.

  He took a hundred yuan from his pocket and pced it in the old woman's hand, almost pleadingly saying, "Please, let me look around in this house, alright?" He still clung to a shred of hope. Since she had only moved out yesterday, there might still be something left behind in the house—an address, a friend or retive's name, or some other clue. He had to find something; he had to find her!

  The old woman eagerly gripped the money—a hundred yuan, half a month's rent! This must be a rich man! She hurriedly stepped back, opened the door wide, and said repeatedly, "Go ahead! Look all you want! Take as long as you need!"

  He walked in and looked around the room. It was empty, but very neat. The bed and desk were still the ndlord′s belongings, left behind without being moved. The faint scent of Han Yan′s perfume lingered in the air, and he almost imagined seeing her shadow, sitting on the edge of the bed, her brow slightly furrowed, her eyes soft and full of emotion. He shook his head heavily and walked to the desk. He opened the drawer, which contained a few unused bnk envelopes and a small desktop calendar.

  He flipped through the calendar, hoping there might be some writing on it, but there was nothing. The other drawers were completely empty.

  He gnced around again but couldn′t find any trace of her in the room. Lowering his head, he noticed a wastepaper basket under the desk. He bent down and pulled it out, and sure enough, there was a lot of scrap paper inside. He flipped through it—some bills, clippings of literary works, some wrapping paper... Then he saw a crumpled piece of paper. He unfolded it and discovered it was the short note he had written to her, with countless "X"s drawn over it in red pencil. The marks were so forceful that the paper was torn. On the bnk space at the end of the note, he saw Han Yan's handwriting, hastily scribbled with some sentences:

  "Bai Peiwen, how cruel you are! How realistic! You don′t need to send me away with five thousand yuan. I will leave quietly, and I won′t bother you. But I hate you!

  Oh, no, no, Pei Wen, I don′t hate you. As long as you come, I beg you to come; come save me! I no longer want to be alone; I no longer want to wander. I love you, Pei Wen. If you come, if you don′t hold my past against me, I will crawl at your feet and be your sve for life! Don′t you know? Don′t you know how eagerly I long for you and how madly I love you, Bai Peiwen! Bai Peiwen! Bai Peiwen! Bai Peiwen!... Save me, Pei Wen! Save me! Otherwise, I will be cast into the eighteenth level of hell! Otherwise, I will sink into despair! Save me, Pei Wen! But why don′t you come? It′s been two days, and you really won′t come!

  You, like any ordinary worldly person, discard me, despise me, and look down on me. You are the noble gentleman, and I am the filthy, worthless woman!

  What else can I hope for? I don′t dream anymore. How foolish I was! I actually thought you would change your mind. I won′t dream again. I′ll never dream again. Let it be destroyed! Let me sink! Let me fall! Marry that idiot! What does it matter anymore? Han Yan, Han Yan, you are nothing but a piece of dirt beneath someone else′s feet!

  Pei Wen, I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!"

  After countless "I hate you′s, the paper was finally filled. Bai Peiwen trembled as he held the paper, cold sweat beading on his forehead. Only at this moment did he realize what he had done to Han Yan. Only then did he understand how he had insulted and hurt her fragile heart. He also realized how deeply that girl had loved him and how sincerely she had shared everything with him, unwilling to deceive him. She had thought he would understand, that he would recognize her pure heart and soul. And what had he done? He had offered her five thousand yuan as a "severance fee!"!

  He staggered and sat down in the chair in front of the desk, cradling his heavy head in his hands. He looked at the note once more. His heart tightened with pain. His throat felt dry and raw, his vision blurred, and his soul trembled. He saw the path revealed in those words—she was walking back into hell. In her despair, who knew what path she might choose? How he hated himself, hated that he hadn′t figured it out sooner, hated that he hadn′t come to her st night! Now, where was she? Where was she?

  "I will find you! Han Yan, I will find you!" He muttered through gritted teeth. "Even if you're in hell, I will bring you back!"