They took Jiang Zhonglin to the hospital, and when he woke up, he cried uncontrollably. At that time, Yu Yao had been missing for over three months. Jiang Zhonglin, in his despair, asked them what they would do if Yu Yao was dead—if she had encountered a murderer and was hidden away somewhere they couldn’t find her.

Yang Jun felt that if Jiang Zhonglin continued like this, he would definitely be unable to cope.

However, he eventually managed to pull through. He became much calmer and, although he continued to search for Yu Yao with great effort, he was no longer as despondent as before. A year later, he returned to school to continue his studies. Yang Jun thought he was doing fine, but later she found out that Jiang Zhonglin’s anxiety disorder had never really improved. In an effort to manage his anxiety, he took a lot of medication, nearly ruining his health.

“During that time, there were several popular reports about women being victimized. Jiang Zhonglin said he was afraid you might end up like those people. He had very severe anxiety symptoms during those years.”

Yu Yao had thought that Jiang Zhonglin would be very sad about her sudden disappearance, but she hadn’t imagined the extent of the harm it had caused him.

“So… what happened next?” Yu Yao asked softly.

Yang Jun thought for a moment and said, “There was a period when I had very little contact with him. After finishing his PhD, he spent nearly ten years teaching in remote villages. He went to many isolated villages, and we all thought he was just trying to relax. But when he came back and invited us to a meal, he finally told us the reason.”

“He said that one day he saw news about human traffickers abducting young women and selling them to remote villages. He had several nightmares, dreaming that you were kidnapped and locked in a dark room with no one to rescue you. So, when he saw that there was a teaching program at the school, he signed up almost on a whim. His mentor didn’t stop him.”

When Jiang Zhonglin returned after several years of teaching, Yang Jun barely recognized him. He was dark, thin, and looked weathered. The only comforting thing was that his spirit had improved significantly; he could talk and smile just like before.

“In recent years, I’ve traveled to many places, and I kept wondering what I would do if I really found her in one of those places. What if I didn’t find her? What then?” Jiang Zhonglin’s expression when he said this left a deep impression on Yang Jun.

By then, Yu Yao had been missing for over a decade. At that moment, Yang Jun felt a pang of guilt because, although she still missed her good friend, she had a family, a husband, and children now. These had diluted her longing and concern for her friend, who seemed to have moved on to a new life. Only Jiang Zhonglin remained deeply troubled, unable to let go.

Yang Jun recounted everything she knew about Jiang Zhonglin over the years. In her fragmented descriptions, Yu Yao saw the lonely shadow across the vast time gap of forty years. He seemed like a solitary wild goose, wandering north and south, through seasons and years, always alone.

The sorrow and pain that seemed to seep from nowhere attached itself to Yu Yao’s heart, making her feel a sharp, stabbing pain.

“Has he not looked for anyone else?” Yu Yao asked quietly.

Yang Jun shook her head.