Ouyang’s divorce had been mentioned by Zhou Yuqian. His wife, during the signing, only said one thing: “I never intended to keep him, but his lawyer was quicker than mine, so I had to accept this hefty alimony.” Zhou Yuqian said Ouyang drank a lot that night, muttering only a few phrases: “I’ve wronged her! I’ve wronged her! Yuqian, you witnessed our love, why don’t I love her anymore? Why don’t I want her anymore?” The next day, Ouyang was back to his usual self, fresh and clear-headed. Lai Hui found it ironic; how many people at the moment of parting think, ‘Why don’t I love her anymore, or why doesn’t she love me anymore?’ Yet, who, during the time of love, thinks about what to do to keep love alive?
Ouyang and his wife were a typical couple ruined by societal pressures. From university sweethearts to marriage, they had their vows and inseparable moments, yet they couldn’t withstand the wear of time. When the focus of love shifted to mundane life, Cheng Lan appeared. Ouyang initially enjoyed the secretive thrill, believing it to be true love, thus negating the companionship with his wife. When the divorce was finalized, his wife signed away with ease, and he was left feeling lost in this murky, gray world. The entire city was shrouded in fog, cars had their lights on in the daytime, and Lai Hui, gripping the steering wheel, saw the beams of light cutting through the mist, the sharpest irony in this dim world! Ignoring Cheng Lan’s chatter beside her, Lai Hui looked at the hurried pedestrians and the faint glow from the shop windows, murmuring, “Cheng Lan, look how gray it is outside; no one can see into their own heart.”
Cheng Lan didn’t speak further. Lai Hui focused on driving, using the little light available to see the road ahead, but that light could only illuminate a short distance—who could see far into the future?
