Since she left, when he returned home, there was no one to remove his clothes and hang them up, no one to take off his shoes or switch them for slippers, no one to bring him the cool, refreshing sour plum drink during the summer, and no one to give him the warm, soothing milk tea that warmed both stomach and hands in the winter. There was also no longer anyone rolling tobacco and passing it to him. The most fatal issue was that no matter what he ate, the flavor of the food just didn't taste right.
He faintly knew that the four years of their hidden marriage, the soap opera-like marriage before love, might have really been as his grandmother said. Even if this love was just a habit, he couldn't forget her.
By the time he realized this, he could have easily learned about her whereabouts if he wanted to. But out of male pride, he just didn't want to be the first one to take that step.
