An Ran never thought in her wildest dreams that her newlywed husband would personally send her to a mental asylum.
Once a pampered rich young lady, she had been thrown into a dingy basement.
The place was a complete mess with a tiny window and a rickety wooden bed that looked like it might collapse at any moment.
That was her home, for three years.
Until, late this night.
"The place is on fire, help put it out!!"
"There's wind outside and the fire is getting out of control! Quick, check on the one in the basement!"
"What? The woman has escaped?"
"Oh crap, how are we going to explain this to Mr. Song?"
"Go find her, quick!"
Outside the basement, several aides were about to launch a search.
A middle-aged man in his fifties, covering his nose and mouth, took a glance towards the basement and told the others with disgust on his face, "Forget about finding her. Mr. Song hasn't visited her for two years, he probably has forgotten about her by now."
"If asked, just say she's dead."
Everyone was silent, apparently agreeing with this decision.
At the same time, a black Maybach subtly parked not far from the mental asylum. A man in a suit was standing by the car, glancing at his watch from time to time.
"Has she come out yet?" The man asked in a low voice, a sense of urgency in his tone.
"Mr. Zhou, the person in contact said she has escaped," the assistant answered.
No sooner had the words left his mouth when a slender figure appeared at the end of the alley, clad in ragged clothes, her hair in disarray.
"Mr. Zhou, it's Miss An," the assistant called out hastily.
Zhou Moan frowned at the staggering figure and stomped out his cigarette on the ground.
As she drew closer, An Ran was simply too tired. She called out, "Zhou Moan!"
At the sound of her voice, Zhou Moan's heart skipped a beat. He strode up to her and softly supported her by the arm.
Her arm was so slender, it felt as if it could snap in his grasp. Zhou Moan's brow furrowed even more.
"Thank you." An Ran's voice slightly trembled, her eyes brimming with tears as she gently pulled back her arm.
An Ran had assumed that she'd be trapped in that hellish place forever. Before she saw Zhou Moan, she thought this was a trap, yet she decided to take a gamble.
Lost in her fright, An Ran jolted slightly as a jacket was draped over her shoulders. The warmth of the garment soothed her considerably.
Zhou Moan said nothing, his brow furrowed even deeper. He opened the back door of his car: "Let's go, my mother is waiting."
"Okay," An Ran responded quietly and got into the car.
Once in the car, An Ran didn't utter a word, her frail body leaning against the car door as if wanting to reduce her presence, a stark contrast to her once lively and flamboyant demeanor.
The skyscrapers outside the window stood tall, not much different from when she entered the mental hospital, but the glaring light made her eyes sting.
About half an hour later, the Maybach stopped in front of a villa and the assistant quickly got out, opening the car door for An Ran.
"Thank you." An Ran whispered in gratitude, desperately lifting the corners of her mouth, attempting to force a smile, but she failed.
"Miss An, it's my duty," the assistant responded dutifully, stepping forward to ring the doorbell for An Ran.
Not long after the doorbell rang, the door opened and a middle-aged woman dressed in a sky-blue cheongsam came out. As soon as she laid her eyes on An Ran, her eyes reddened and her voice trembled, "Ran Ran!"
Hearing the voice, An Ran stiffened, and tears welled up uncontrollably in her eyes.