After the divorce, he went on a motorcycle trip, and his ex-wife and daughter were filled with regre

Jiang Ye went down the stairs and arrived at the open-air bar behind the first floor of the hotel.

In reality, they just set up a rainproof plastic shed in the backyard, placed a few simple wooden tables and chairs, and had a makeshift bar next to it.

At this moment, the torrential rain outside was still pouring down, pounding against the plastic shed roof with a dull thud.

The bar was almost empty, with only a drowsy middle-aged bartender standing behind the bar.

Jiang Ye walked over and sat down at the bar.

"Get me a bottle of strong liquor, anything will do, as long as it's strong enough."

Jiang Ye's voice was low and hoarse.

The bartender glanced at him, said nothing, turned around and took a bottle of local spirits from the liquor rack behind him, with an alcohol content of over fifty degrees.

"Here, brother, drink slowly."

Jiang Ye took the bottle and poured a full glass.

He looked at the clear liquid in the glass, which had a pungent, spicy smell, and without hesitation, tilted his head back and gulped it down.

The spicy liquid went down my throat like a raging fire, instantly burning in my stomach.

The burning pain made Jiang Ye frown, but it seemed to slightly suppress his irritation.

"Again!"

He muttered to himself as he poured himself another glass.

One cup after another.

The alcohol burned and spread wildly in his blood, quickly rushing to his brain.

His vision began to blur, his body gradually felt light, and he entered a slightly tipsy state.

In a hazy, drunken state, the noisy sound of rain around me seemed to gradually fade away.

The image that haunted his dreams resurfaced in Jiang Ye's mind once again.

That was the "Cloud Wilderness" he had always longed for.

There, rolling green hills appear exceptionally tranquil amidst the swirling clouds and mist.

There was a crystal-clear stream that flowed gurglingly, reflecting shimmering golden light.

Beside the stream, there is a small courtyard enclosed by a bamboo fence, with lush vines climbing the walls and blooming with unidentified wildflowers.

In the yard, a big yellow dog was wagging its tail happily and frolicking on the grass.

And standing beneath that rustic wooden door was a woman dressed in an elegant long dress.

She stood there quietly, her eyes filled with tenderness, her gaze fixed on him, as if waiting for him to return home.

"Who exactly are you...?"

Jiang Ye muttered to himself, trying hard to open his eyes wide and see the woman's face clearly.

However, no matter how hard he tried, the scene in front of him became increasingly blurry, with overlapping images.

The woman's face began to change constantly.

In a moment, it transformed into Shen Qinghan's humble, tearful face, filled with regret.

A moment later, she transformed back into Xia Yu, who was usually aloof but was now clumsily cooking for him and cheering him on in the kitchen.

A moment later, his gaze shifted to that of his eldest sister, Han Qingru, gentle as water, yet always carrying a complex mix of restraint and a push-away quality.

These three faces kept alternating, overlapping, and tearing apart in Jiang Ye's mind.

Each of them seemed to occupy a corner of his heart.

Each and every one of them caused him immense distress and pain.

He discovered that he had completely lost his way in this vortex of intertwined emotions.

. . . .

A week has passed.

Later that night, when they stayed at the hotel, Shen Qinghan seemed to realize something and never went to Jiang Ye's room again.

The long road trip has finally come to an end.

Accompanied by the deep roar of the BMW GS engine, Jiang Ye drove this steel behemoth, covered in dust from the journey, slowly into the city of Hanzhou.

Following behind the motorcycle was the SUV driven by Shen Qinghan.

The city's neon lights flickered on the streets at dusk, and the hustle and bustle of traffic flooded back into our ears, completely shutting out the silence of the desolate Northwest.

Jiang Ye slowed down and drove into a village in the old city of Hanzhou, following the navigation address given by Shen Qinghan.

The further you go in, the worse the surrounding environment becomes.

The once wide asphalt road has been turned into a bumpy cement road, with haphazardly built tin sheds on both sides, and various stalls selling cheap snacks and sundries crowding the already narrow road.

In the end, even the off-road vehicle couldn't get in.

Jiang Ye parked his motorcycle in a fairly spacious open space by the roadside, removed the key, and took off his helmet.

Shen Qinghan also led Shen Xinyu out of the SUV.

"This is it."

Shen Qinghan kept her head down, her voice barely audible, and dared not look Jiang Ye in the eye.

Jiang Ye frowned and followed Shen Qinghan and her daughter into a narrow, dark alley.

The alley is perpetually dark, filled with the stench of sewage. Overhead, a dense tangle of electrical and internet cables forms like a spiderweb, with some spots even dripping unidentified sewage.

Climbing up the cement stairs covered in moss and mold, I finally arrived at the door of a rental room on the fourth floor.

Shen Qinghan took out his key and opened the somewhat rusty security door.

As soon as the door opened, a musty, sour smell wafted out.

The room was pitifully small, less than 60 square meters at most. A hard, old wooden bed took up most of the space, with a simple cloth wardrobe next to it. There wasn't even a private bathroom; you had to use the dirty public toilet at the end of the corridor.

Large patches of plaster were peeling off the walls, and spider webs were growing in the corners of the roof.

This is hardly a place for humans to live.

Jiang Ye stood at the door, looking at the appallingly shabby environment, and his heart skipped a beat.

He glanced at Shen Qinghan, who stood awkwardly to the side.

This woman was once a high-ranking princess in Hanzhou, always traveling in luxury cars and living in a detached villa of several hundred square meters halfway up the mountain. She had severe mysophobia, would never wear clothes that weren't dry-cleaned haute couture, and used only top international brands for skincare.

But now, she has fallen so low that she and her daughter are crammed into a rented room in an urban village that is worse than a doghouse.

The stark contrast is truly heartbreaking.

Jiang Ye let out a long sigh in his heart.

Although he hated Shen Qinghan's past betrayal and heartlessness, no matter what, Shen Xinyu was his own flesh and blood.

How could a billionaire like him stand by and watch his own daughter live and grow up in such a terrible environment?

"Let's go, grab some clean clothes."

Jiang Ye didn't go into the musty-smelling room; instead, he turned around and took out his phone.

Shen Qinghan froze, staring in astonishment at Jiang Ye's retreating figure: "Where...where are you going?"

"Is this place even habitable? The child lives here with you; who will take care of him if he gets sick?"

Jiang Ye's tone was flat, leaving no room for negotiation.

He dialed Lei Heng's number directly.

"Old Lei, have someone clean up the apartment in the city center, the one near the Ivy International Bilingual Kindergarten. I'll be there in a bit."

Lei Heng, always efficient on the other end of the phone, didn't even ask for a reason before readily agreeing, "Don't worry, boss, I'll arrange it right away!"

Less than three minutes after hanging up the phone, Lei Heng sent a WeChat message.

Jiang Ye glanced at the address, then turned to look at Shen Qinghan, who was still standing there dumbfounded.

"What are you waiting for? Grab what you need and come downstairs."

. . . . .