The prison iron door clanged shut behind me.
Chen Mo squinted his eyes, the afternoon sun was a bit dazzling. He raised his hand to cover his forehead. It was winter when he went in three years ago, and it was early autumn when he came out. There was a coolness in the wind, blowing over his old jacket that had been washed white.
He only had three hundred and twenty dollars in his pocket, an old-fashioned push-button cell phone, and a release certificate. He stood on the roadside and waited for ten minutes before hailing a shabby taxi.
"Where to go?" The driver didn't even look back.
"Old Street in the West of the City, Linglong Pavilion."
The car started. Chen Mo leaned on the back seat and looked at the street scene passing by outside the window. Three years is not long, but some things have changed. New buildings have been built, old streets have been demolished, and shops have had their signs replaced. He closed his eyes and his master's always serious face flashed through his mind.
"Mo'er, you took the blame for this, and the master owes you."
"Master, don't talk about this. I chose it myself."
"Three years... Three years later, when you come out, the master will give you an explanation."
