An indeterminate amount of time passed.

Slowly, it came back to him.

His name was Raymond Yu. He lived in an apartment on 5th Avenue, 4th Ring Road. Before he stopped showing up, he used to be a convenience store clerk, and before that, he was a student. Years had passed since then. He'd lost track of time. There was only despair. Uneasiness. Wanting to turn his skin inside out whenever someone looked at him, because they'd see him as not even anything, less than human.

Whenever he did his shots, he thought to himself, Why didn't I do this earlier? What was wrong with me for not figuring it out?

He felt relief like he hadn’t for a long time, but also a desperate fury, of being shown a glimmer of light that could go out at any moment.

A stranger had helped him, but he should have helped himself first. He should've done something. There should've been something he could do.

Even now, when he crossed the road, he imagined a car driving forward and not stopping in time. 

These days, he didn't think of jumping in front of it, at least.

So, was this the end of the story? A stranger helped him and life went on. 

No, of course not.

Because the car that drove by him was a familiar white car, with a golden Guanyin dangling in the front.

A car he had seen countless times in his memories, so much that it almost felt like a dream.

Raymond wanted to go back there again. He wanted to find him again.

He didn't know what he'd say, but he wanted to see Vincent again.