Chapter 10
It was no surprise that Herbert couldn’t find me because I was in a rather obscure
country.
The locals there had simple and honest traditions. They were deeply connected to nature and rarely used modern communication devices.
So, they knew almost nothing about the extensive online search Herbert had launched to
find me.
I rented a small cottage.
Just outside the door, there was a vast golden wheat field.
When the wind blew, it was like a golden sea, boundless and magnificent.
It carried the fragrance of freedom and hope.
During my stay there, I traveled to many places and witnessed all sorts of breathtaking
scenery.
I saw the powerful, surging waves crashing against the shore, the towering and steep mountains reaching toward the sky, and the endless, expansive grasslands.
In these places, I felt as if I had rediscovered my true self and experienced a sense of happiness and freedom that had eluded me for decades.
Today, the sun was shining brightly.
I carried a chair and sat beside the wheat field, intending to paint this beautiful landscape.
“Excuse me, are you Ms. Brown?” a young man with a backpack and glasses, looking like a college student, asked me tentatively.
I smiled while shaking my head. “Sorry. I’m not.”
The young man smiled and apologized casually. Then, he took out his phone and showed
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it to me.
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He said, “This man has posted a lot of videos looking for his wife. I think you resemble the woman in his videos quite a bit.”
In the video, Herbert looked increasingly haggard.
There were streaks of gray hair at his temples, and he seemed to have aged decades overnight.
In my memory, Herbert had always been a confident and energetic young man, and he had never been in such a pitiful state before.
I was so engrossed in watching the video that I lost myself in thought.
The young man sat down beside me. “Even if you are his wife, I won’t tell him where you are. This
guy is a scoundrel. I heard that his wife left because he had an affair with another
woman.”
I remained silent throughout, just smiling as continued to paint.
But then, the young man continued, “But the evildoer finally got what was coming to him. This man died in a car accident not long ago. It was said that a disfigured and deranged woman drove into him and killed him.”
My paintbrush froze for a moment, and the paint smeared on the canvas.
“This man recorded a video before he died, saying that he hoped his wife would see it.” The young man then clicked on the video and showed it to me.
In the video, Herbert had tubes attached all over his body and was lying in a hospital bed.
His voice was weak, and tears streamed down from the corners of his eyes.
He said, “Samantha, I love you. I’m sorry. If there is a next life…”
I didn’t listen to the end, and I got up and walked away.
“Ms. Brown,” the young man called out to me, and I stopped in my tracks.
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He continued, “I hope you’ll be happy for the rest of your life.”
After returning to my room, perhaps out of a mix of relief and other emotions, I couldn’t
hold back my tears.
“Samantha, what’s the matter?” Patrick Smith walked in from outside, his face filled with
concern.
He was the only person I met here who came from the same country as me, and he was also my landlord.
He volunteered to teach the local children how to paint, and he was the one who taught
me how to paint as well.
I wiped away my tears and smiled while shaking my head. “I’m fine.”
Patrick scratched his head. It seemed that he had summoned up his courage and took out a bouquet from behind his back.
He smiled. “Samantha, I like you. Would you like to be my girlfriend?”
I wasn’t taken aback by his question, and I had always been aware of Patrick’s feelings
for me.
I said softly, “Thanks for your affection. I don’t plan to stay here for much longer.”
Patrick quickly replied, “I can go with you to any place in the world.”
I opened the window, and the warm and gentle sunlight flooded into the room.
I smiled. “What I mean is that I don’t want to stay in one place for an extended period, and I don’t want to be bound by anyone.
“I’ll set off for the next destination tomorrow. If we’re destined to be together, we’ll meet again someday.”
Patrick was a bit disappointed. He pressed his lips together and asked me, “Where are you going?”
I thought about it seriously, but I didn’t even know where my next stop would be.
However, did life have to have a fixed destination?
Everything along the journey was part of the scenery.
The past was a dark chapter that couldn’t be rewritten, but the days ahead would be bright and brilliant.
2days ago
