It Was My Fault That You Don't Have a Mother

He still didn't receive any response from her.

Ye Hao turned off his phone screen dejectedly and stuffed it back in his pocket.

He slumped onto the sofa and closed his eyes in agony.

Six months have passed.

He had suffered through six months of searching and waiting for her and the waiting had been torturous to him. All he wanted to receive the tiniest bit of information about her. He would be satisfied even if he saw that she had updated her WeChat Moments, or sent an emoticon, or if the police could find any evidence of her having used her identification documents.

At the very least, all these were proof that she was still alive.

Ye Hao dug out his phone once again as though he refused to accept reality and this time he sent a message to Mo Yixuan, the man who he had always hated.

-'Has she contacted you? Did she go over to check on Yuan Yuan?'