"Ms. Shi, do you remember the last time your husband contacted you?"
Inside a garden villa in the suburbs, Li Fan sat on the sofa and asked an intellectual-looking woman in her forties seated across from him.
This was Zhao Yang's first wife, Shi Lan.
Her qipao, carefully maintained slender figure, and still-charming face all showed that she lived quite comfortably.
Yang Gan was off to the side, studying the enormous twelve-meter fish tank.
Shi Lan's eyes were slightly red as she slowly said:
"Zhao Yang and I had been separated for a long time. We just never officially divorced. After all, he'd long since stopped loving me. Heh, men... they always like younger women..."
With a faint, self-mocking smile, Shi Lan continued:
"The last time he contacted me was over a month ago. At the time, I thought he'd finally decided to ask for a divorce... Instead, he told me he'd found his youth again and was going to live for another hundred years... He could even make keeping a mistress sound so fresh and refined. I cursed that shameless bastard out, then hung up on him."
Shi Lan shook her head, seemingly helpless in the face of Zhao Yang's absurdity. Two tears fell from her eyes before she smiled again.
"A hundred years? He didn't even make it a hundred days."
Li Fan and Yang Gan exchanged a glance, both unable to help feeling a little guilty.
They had been the ones to tell Shi Lan about Zhao Yang's death.
Li Fan immediately comforted her, saying:
"Ms. Shi, please accept our condolences..."
"Yeah, Ms. Shi, President Zhao... passed away peacefully?"
Shi Lan glanced at them, then suddenly covered her mouth and laughed through her tears.
"I just shed a couple of tears out of habit. After so many