Seven years ago, at the engagement banquet, I broke the left leg of my fiancée's childhood friend.
Less than a month after I was sentenced to prison, the two of them went and obtained their marriage certificates.
Who didn't know that I would dare to do anything to pursue Sheena?
Everyone was waiting to see how I would take revenge once I got out of prison.
Yet unexpectedly, the first thing I did after my release was to completely withdraw from their circle and disappear without a trace.
It was drizzling that day when I went to the high-speed rail station to pick up a passenger.
She didn't say a word after getting into the car, her gaze blank and dazed.
I forced a professional smile and started, "Hello. May I have the last digits of your phone number?"
Her lips tightened instantly. "Charles... you..."
"Don't even remember my number?"
——
"Sorry. It's the platform's rule. I can only provide service after the last digits are confirmed," I replied calmly.
The car fell into silence. Only the rhythmic swish of the wipers and the low hum of the engine filled the space.
Finally, Sheena recited her number.
I followed the navigation and drove onto the main road, fixing my eyes on the road ahead.
It was as if the person sitting beside me was nothing more than an ordinary passenger.
Her breathing was light, and she hesitated several times as if wanting to speak.
Her fingers unconsciously twisted the hem of her skirt—a gesture I knew all too well. It meant she was struggling intensely inside.
"Charles..." She finally spoke again. "How are you doing now?"
I kept my gaze forward, maintaining a professional smile. "Pretty good. Plain and ordinary."
Driving, eating, sleeping—no ups and downs.
"It's the life I want."
"You're lying!" She retorted immediately, turning her head to stare at my profile.
"How could you possibly get used to this? Don't you know what kind of life you used to live?"
"There were drivers to take you everywhere, custom-made clothes, and even the water you drank had to be airlifted from abroad."
"Now you're driving a ride-hailing car and living..."
She stopped short and didn't finish the sentence.
But the pity and disbelief hidden in those unfinished words were painfully clear.
I smiled, but didn't respond.
When the car stopped at a red light at the intersection of the old street in the south of the city, the rain happened to stop.
"You drive here... how much can you earn in an hour?"
Sheena suddenly asked, her eyes fixed on the street view outside the window, her expression complicated.
"It depends. When business is good, around forty to fifty. Usually about twenty," I answered truthfully, my tone calm.
She fell silent for a few seconds, then lowered her head and opened her expensive handbag.
She took out a brand new hundred dollar bill and placed it on the center console.
"Then I'll hire you for an hour. No need to drive. Just accompany me for a walk around this old street, okay?"
I glanced at the bill, put it away, and nodded.
"The customer is always right. If there's money to be made, why not?"
After stopping the car, I led her into the old street.
The cobblestones were slippery, and she walked cautiously in her delicate high heels.
Elderly people sitting on bamboo chairs outside their homes or shopkeepers along the street greeted me familiarly.
"You're back from work, Charles?"
"Charles, have you eaten yet? If not, Granny here has some soy milk."
"Charles, who's this beauty? She's gorgeous!"
I responded with a smile each time, exchanging a few casual words, keeping my tone natural.
Sheena followed half a step behind me, listening to these lively, everyday conversations. The confusion on her face grew heavier with each word.
"You know them well?" she couldn't help but ask.
"Yeah. After I got out, I had nowhere to go, no money. So I rented a small loft up here," I said casually.
