Chapter 44: Anbo, I wish you success

Three o'clock in the morning.

He didn't dare close his eyes again.

As long as he closed his eyes, he would see the cold, dark sea, her sinking white figure, and the despair that he could never grasp.

He has lost her in his dreams countless times.

He threw back the covers and stepped barefoot on the cold floor, his body shaking with remaining fear.

He grabbed the car keys and rushed out in a wrinkled shirt.

The black Aston Martin was driving at an alarming speed, and the needle on the dashboard was soaring wildly.

He held the steering wheel and stared straight ahead.

The car finally stopped at the foot of a slightly old apartment building with a sharp brake sound.

After getting out of the car, the night wind blew into the open collar.

He didn't move, but just raised his head and looked at the dark window on the third floor for a long time.

Those bloodshot eyes were filled with complex and unspeakable emotions.

He took out the cold key from his pocket and walked into the corridor.

His footsteps echoed in the empty corridor, one after another.

Stop in front of that familiar door.

The key was inserted into the keyhole and turned, with a slight "click" sound.

He pushed open the door.

It is not the place in my memory that is always filled with the aroma of food and the faint scent of gardenias.

It was pitch black inside.

He reached out his hand and groped habitually on the wall, then pressed the switch.

Empty.

In the living room, the beige fabric sofa is still there. She used to like to curl up on it and watch movies with a soft pillow in her arms.

On the wall, where their photo was originally hung, only a few lighter-colored square marks were left.

The bedroom door was ajar, and he reached out and pushed it open.

The closet door was wide open, and the inside was empty except for a few lonely clothes hangers.

There was nothing on the dresser, it was so clean as if no one had ever used it.

He opened the bottom drawer and it was also empty.

bathroom.

There were no more bottles and jars on the sink, the shelf in front of the mirror was empty, and there was some dust on the inner wall of the bathtub.

Kitchen: The stainless steel sink was cold and dry, and there were no pots or pans on the stove.

He subconsciously opened the refrigerator door, which was also empty, with only a stale smell coming out.

When she left, she took everything that belonged to her with her.

No, not take away.

It was thrown away.

Without him knowing, on the day she decided to leave, she had personally cleaned up all the items that connected them.

Once again, memories were like a rusty, blunt knife, slowly cutting open his chest inch by inch, bringing with it dense pain.

He doesn't believe it.

He began to scan the room like crazy.

He rushed back to the living room and frantically opened every drawer of the TV cabinet, but they were all empty.

He lay on the ground and looked under the sofa, but it was empty.

He pulled back the curtains and checked the gap in the windowsill; it was empty.

The bookshelf, which was originally filled with her favorite poetry collections and novels, now only had a few old financial magazines that he never read.

He was like an intruder, a desperate treasure hunter, searching in vain and frantically in this space that was once filled with her scent but was now completely empty.

Looking for any evidence that she ever existed.

A lost long hair, a half-written note, a hairpin she casually placed in the corner...anything, as long as it can prove that she had really lived here, with him.

Nothing at all.

Finally, he knelt in the middle of the living room, his body stiff.

He just knelt there, motionless.

The vast emptiness and dead silence came from all directions, wrapping him tightly, leaving no room for any escape.

She can't be found here either.

She was nowhere to be found.

This made him feel more suffocated than the icy sea water in his dream.

/

The top floor conference room of Feng Group.

Outside the huge floor-to-ceiling windows is the bustling Jiangcheng skyline, and the air conditioning in the room is turned on very high.

The meeting was over, but the pressure had not completely dissipated.

Lin Anbo closed the project document in his hand and looked at Feng Mingzhou opposite him. The other party had no expression, just nodded slightly, indicating that the meeting could be adjourned.

The assistants began to collect the documents.

Zhao Yang stood up, walked to Lin Anbo, casually put his arm on his shoulder, and the two walked out together like brothers.

"Sure, Anbo, now that we have won the project, we must arrange a celebration tonight, right?" Zhao Yang joked with a smile.

Lin Anbo had an unconcealable smile on his face, his eyes sparkling, "No problem, Brother Zhao, but not tonight, there are more important things tonight."

"Oh, yes," Zhao Yang suddenly realized, "Look at my memory. Today is Chinese Valentine's Day."

"Brother Zhao, I'm serious with you," Lin Anbo also lowered his voice, his eyes unconsciously drifting out the window, with a bit of dreaminess, "I really didn't believe in love at first sight before, it seemed so ridiculous." He paused, his tone became particularly firm, "Now I believe it. There really is such a person, when you take one look at her, a voice in your heart tells you, yes, she is the one, I want to marry her home in this life."

Zhao Yang raised his eyebrows, a little amused by his innocent look: "Oh, you want to marry her now? You can do it, kid!"

"I have already made all the arrangements at the art museum. I will give her a big surprise then."

His tone was full of anticipation.

Zhao Yang was listening to his meticulous plan and was about to impart a few more "secrets" when a cold voice suddenly came from behind him.

"Zhao Yang, I'm flying to Nanfeng Island tonight and will stay there for two days. You keep an eye on the project."

They both turned back at the same time.

Feng Mingzhou came over at some point and stood not far behind them.

After he said this, he didn't care about the two people's reactions and walked straight to the elevator next to him that was reserved for the president.

The smile on Zhao Yang's face faded.

Nanfeng Island... Of course he remembered that Feng Mingzhou built an observatory for Gu Manman on that private island.

However, when the observatory was completed, Gu Manman had already...

The elevator door opened with a ding, and Feng Mingzhou walked in. The metal door slowly closed, isolating his lonely figure.

Zhao Yang looked at the closed elevator door and sighed.

Then, he patted Lin Anbo on the shoulder and said, "Anbo, I wish you success."

Lin Anbo turned and walked towards another elevator, smiling and waving: "Thank you, Brother Zhao!"

He walked briskly, his mind full of anticipation for the evening.