Chapter 11 Sent to Prison

Suddenly, Emily lost her voice. The hand gripping her neck tightened, and she had no doubt she would be strangled to death if not for the policeman who restrained John. When she could finally breathe again, she covered her neck and coughed violently, feeling a dull pain in her chest. "John, are you going to kill me?" Tears dripped onto the floor, one by one. "Shut up," the man's eyes were cold. "If it weren't for Sofia's heart transplant into you, do you think you'd be alive today?!" BAM! Her mind went blank. Sofia's heart transplant into her? Emily stood there, stunned. How could this be a joke? Sofia couldn't wait to hate her; why would she donate her heart to her? "You set me up to be hit by a car that year, and I've found the evidence," the man's ice-cold voice pounded down. "You'll spend the rest of your life in prison." "No!" Emily shouted at John's retreating back, "I didn't do it! Who told you that?" No, she couldn't lose John. She couldn't go to prison. Her sisters all knew she was going to marry John. If she went to prison... Her life would be over. John didn't look back. Emily was charged with conclusive evidence of her crime and her trial was scheduled for a later date. Before the trial, an unexpected visitor came to see Emily. Emily wore a loose prison uniform, with a number written on the top left corner. 31056. Emily had lost weight, and her unmade-up face looked pale and exhausted. Seeing her in such a state, William's lips curled into a scornful sneer. "The day you gave me Jennifer's video, you probably didn't expect to end up like this." William wasn't a good person; he wasn't righteous, so he didn't dislike bad girls like Emily. In fact, they had once made a deal to ensure Sofia and John broke up cleanly. Unfortunately, neither of them got what they wanted. "I hate him," Emily said. William crossed his arms and chuckled. "I heard Sofia's heart is inside you." Hearing him say that, Emily felt even more agitated. "Go away, I don't want to see you." "Emily, I'll be here when you get out." William watched her back, his gaze falling on the left side of her spine, where Sofia's heart was now. Sofia was gone, but her heart lived on. John took Sofia's ashes to the Alps. This was a place Sofia had always wanted to visit. As soon as they got out of the car, the cold air hit them. John put on an extra layer of clothing. Not far from the parking lot was a hotel. There were still vacant rooms, so John rented one. The hotel was run by a young man, short in stature with dark skin, wearing Tibetan attire. He was warm-hearted, and while they gathered around the fire at night, he told the guests about the Valley of Death. The Valley of Death was also known as the Nalenggele Canyon. It was also colloquially known as the Gate of Hell in Kunlun. However, the hotel owner said it was off-limits. "Where are you from?" the hotel owner asked John. "New York." "Are you here alone?" John shook his head, "With my wife." Since entering the hotel, Ryan had noticed John. Mainly because John was too handsome, even more so than the lead actor of a popular TV show that filmed here that year. But he said he came with his wife, and Ryan hadn't seen any female companion with him. Noticing Ryan's confusion, John squeezed the small bottle around his neck and said, "My wife passed away." Half the bottle was filled with ashes, and Ryan quickly caught on, feeling sorry for him. "She always wanted to come here, but I never took her when she was alive." John lowered his head and stirred the firewood. Ryan stood up and poured him a cup of coffee. "It's not too late now." John smiled at the words. He knew Ryan meant well, but it was just a comfort. Every night, he missed Sofia more and more, to the point of madness. He couldn't stay at home. The house was filled with her scent. At first, he clung to it, but the more he clung, the more he missed her, unbearable. Taking her to the Alps was a spur-of-the-moment decision, but now that he was here, John had no regrets. "Have you heard the story of reincarnation?" Ryan asked. John took a sip of coffee and shook his head. Ryan introduced casually, "There's a Golden Gate Park in San Francisco. If you can hold your breath for two minutes inside and make a wish, it will grant you a wish for your next life." John laughed, "That's a lie." Ryan clinked his cup with John's, "Not necessarily. How would we know if someone really fulfilled their next-life wish?" Everyone around the fire was amused by Ryan, and no one took it seriously. ... Around 5:00 p.m., John set out from the hotel with the owner as his guide, heading for Golden Gate Park in San Francisco. The hotel owner usually didn't take people, but John gave him five thousand dollars,it was easy money. "The water is warm, like a hot spring," Ryan led John inside. John found him after 10:00 p.m. the previous night, saying he wanted to come and make a wish today. Ryan suggested coming earlier since there were many people who wanted to make wishes. Indeed, there were already five or six people there before John arrived. Golden Gate Park in San Francisco was more like a natural landscape, with various pools not connected to each other, with springs at the bottom. When Ryan turned around, John had already taken off his shirt, revealing his muscular back. John noticed that everyone who went down to make a wish had a small black stone in their hand. He asked Ryan, "What's that?" "A wishing stone," Ryan whispered, "but it's just a scam..." Before he could finish his sentence, John walked towards a small cabin. The cabin was a shop that sold these little black stones. John pointed and asked, "How much?" The owner made a gesture with three fingers, "Thirty thousand dollars." Ryan followed behind, wincing at the price. Thirty thousand dollars was enough for his yearly expenses. John took the stone and got into the water. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and sank to the bottom of the spring. Time passed slowly, and it was deadly silent around. No sounds could be heard. If there was a next life, he would definitely meet Sofia again. If he was destined to be a jerk in his next life, then Sofia must not like him. He hoped Sofia would live a long life, with everything going her way. Three minutes passed, but John hadn't come up yet. Ryan waited anxiously as people started coming up for air one by one, shouting that they weren't going to try anymore. In fact, the whole story was a scam. "Mr. John, you've exceeded the time limit," Ryan called out from the water. But the man showed no sign of coming up. Just as he hesitated whether to go down and pull him up, John came up, wiped his face with his hand, and opened his eyes. Seven days later, John boarded a plane back home. He was tanned and had lost weight. One year later. The Jones family opened a new entertainment company. John bought the copyrights to five TV shows and filmed three of them in the first half of the year. An indoor reality show produced by the Jones family received rave reviews. John was so busy that sometimes he didn't even have time to eat, so Margaret came to take care of him at home. Actually, Margaret had another purpose; her friend's daughter, a nice girl who admired her son, and she wanted to set them up. Margaret kept looking outside; it was already 10:00 p.m., and John hadn't come back yet. If she hadn't called him in the afternoon and he said he'd be back, Margaret wouldn't have waited. Ten minutes later, lights appeared outside the door. Margaret stood up to serve the dishes from the kitchen. After a while, John entered the house, hanging his suit jacket on the coat rack, untying his tie, and unbuttoning the top two buttons of his shirt. "Dinner's ready," Margaret said, wearing cotton gloves as she placed the soup on the dining table. "Go wash your hands," she told her tall son and went back into the kitchen. The sound of running water came from the bathroom, and John went back to his bedroom to change clothes. "Just leave it to Aunt Mary," he offered as he helped set the table. Margaret waved her hand dismissively, "It's not tiring at all." "Here, have some ribs," Margaret said, placing a portion on his plate. John was a man of few words, eating with refinement, while Margaret seemed preoccupied. Sensing his mother's intermittent gaze upon him, John looked up and inquired, "Is there something on your mind?" "You keep eating. I'll go cut some fruit," Margaret replied. John sensed that his mother indeed had something important to say. Margaret turned on the TV, tuning into an outdoor reality show. The guest for this episode belonged to a new generation of artists under Jones Family Entertainment. The young man was fair-skinned and refined in appearance. Sitting beside her, John observed as Margaret placed the remote on the table, opened her phone's photo album, and handed it to him. "This young lady is Rebecca, Linda's daughter. She just returned from studying abroad this year. Isn't she pretty? I've met her, and she has a wonderful personality too," Margaret said, watching John intently. His gaze flickered over the photo before retreating. Margaret's heart sank slightly, fearing the worst, yet she remained hopeful. "John, it's been a year since Sophia left. We have to keep living, don't we?" "Mom," John began, "I owe her so much that I can never repay in this lifetime. How could I possibly deserve happiness?" Margaret felt a lump in her throat, "Sophia was a wonderful girl. You two were just..." "There are no 'justs.' It's all my fault," John interrupted. Grasping Margaret's hand, John said, "Mom, please stop arranging blind dates for me. I won't marry again." He knew Sophia wouldn't want him to be stuck in the past, but he chose to remain there nonetheless. Margaret fell silent, turning off her phone. She rose and walked out, wiping away tears as she faced away from him. "I'm going home." John sighed helplessly, "Mom." Margaret understood John, but as a mother, she couldn't bear to see him like this. John had the driver take Margaret back home. Soon, he was alone in the spacious villa. Reclining on the sofa, he gazed up at the grand chandelier in the living room. Sophia had chosen this light fixture. John could still vividly recall the sparkle in her eyes when she did. She had looked breathtakingly beautiful. He took two pills; his insomnia had worsened recently. It had been a year, and he hadn't dreamed of her once.