Chapter 19

Chapter 019
The western window of the room was propped open, revealing lush green bamboo beyond the veranda and across the water. Not far away, in a pavilion, a woman dressed in traditional Hanfu played the guqin; its melodious notes brought a profound sense of tranquility to the heart.
Ji Peihan withdrew her gaze and turned to look at Ming Huai, a hint of bitterness rising within her. She lifted the white porcelain teacup from the table, took a small sip, and asked, “Ming Huai, how are things between you and Tingqian now?”
Ming Huai had been smiling, but gradually the smile faded from his face until it disappeared completely. He lowered his eyes, tracing the raised patterns on the cup’s surface with his fingers, remaining silent.
How could things be? What could possibly develop between two people who had only known each other for two months?
After a moment of thought, he replied frankly, “We added each other on WeChat, but we’re still not close.”
Although progress had been limited, this was actually far better than Ming Huai had initially anticipated. At the outset, Ming Huai had approached Ji Tingqian prepared for a long and arduous campaign, never expecting such a significant mishap on the very first day. The incident had completely derailed his original plan, yet paradoxically brought them suddenly closer together—even if it might have left Ji Tingqian with an unfavorable impression of him.
“I see…” Ji Peihan frowned slightly, then patted Ming Huai’s hand reassuringly. “Don’t worry, take your time. After all this turmoil, Mom and Dad are finally showing signs of softening. As for Tingqian, my eldest brother and I will keep an eye on things for you. Let’s proceed slowly.”
Mentioning their parents stirred an indescribable mixture of emotions within Ming Huai—a blend of sourness and bitterness. Ultimately, both he and Ji Tingqian had failed to live up to their elders’ expectations.
He still felt utterly dejected; upon encountering someone who knew the truth and could listen, his negative emotions surged forth like a raging flood. Ming Huai’s voice was heavy with despair, “But he really doesn’t remember me. Not even a little bit.”
At this moment, no one could offer the comforting platitude that “he will eventually remember.” If even the doctors couldn’t provide such assurance, how could anyone else? To say more would only lead Ming Huai to cling to a sliver of hope, only to face an even greater disappointment later.
Not remembering someone means just that: not remembering. While instinct might linger within the body, the memories are completely gone. To Ji Tingqian, Ming Huai is nothing more than a stranger; upon their first meeting, he would absolutely not develop any affection, let alone fall in love, based on some so-called intuition. Though cruel, this is the reality.
In other words, to Ji Tingqian, Ming Huai is no different from any random stranger on the street.
“It will get better.” Ji Peihan rarely looked away, at a loss for words.
Everyone knew this was an empty platitude, yet Ming Huai clung to that very sentence, that single belief, to endure two long years. He trusted things would improve, but even as he held onto that hope, he remained plagued by constant unease.
Ming Huai felt a sudden sting behind his eyes; he blinked rapidly, forcing himself not to appear so weak.
“Let’s not talk about this anymore,” Ji Peihan said, ruffling Ming Huai’s hair before letting out a sigh, her tone lifting cheerfully. “Second Sister ordered all your favorites—make sure you show some enthusiasm later!”
Ming Huai calmed his emotions, grinned, and said, “Okay.”
After dinner, Ji Peihan called the driver to come over. The driver was a middle-aged man in his forties, a new face Ming Huai had never seen before. When he asked Ji Peihan about it, she explained that their regular drivers were all occupied, so she had hired this one herself.
The two got off the car along the riverside promenade, where lights blazed brightly and crowds surged. Towering skyscrapers lined the riverbank, their LED screens cycling endlessly through advertisements. Ji Peihan and Ming Huai walked steadily along this path.
“I swear, why do you and Tingqian both insist on walking this route? Look at you, taking an evening stroll yet still wearing masks,” Ji Peihan laughed. The wind lifted her hair; under the night sky, she looked nothing like a thirty-year-old woman.
Ming Huai tilted his body slightly to dodge a Brown Bear balloon as two young girls brushed past him. The keywords “Ji Tingqian” and “Ming Huai” caught his ear just as the large LED screen scrolled to the next item—an advertisement featuring Ming Huai himself.
“Look, you’re still on the screen; you really are a handful,” Ji Peihan remarked, raising an eyebrow.
They walked along the riverside for half an hour until, at one point, the crowd suddenly surged, nearly sweeping Ming Huai and his companion apart. Ming Huai instantly grasped Ji Peihan’s wrist, pulling her firmly to his side. Flashing a row of pearly white teeth, he said, “Second Sister, it’s crowded here; hold my hand tightly.”
The crowd was indeed dense; it was only after walking another hundred meters that the numbers thinned out slightly. Only then did Ming Huai release Ji Peihan’s wrist.
They walked and talked, losing track of time. It was already ten at night when Ming Huai finally returned home. After exchanging a brief greeting with Auntie Chen, he headed upstairs. As expected, a small lump protruded from the bed. Leaning closer, Ming Huai saw that Dudu had already fallen asleep. He didn’t wake the child; instead, he quietly gathered his pajamas and made his way to the bathroom.
Steam billowed in the bathroom as Ming Huai lay in the bathtub, gazing upward. He had once resented this, felt wronged by it. Ji Tingqian remembered so many people, forgot so many others—so why was it that he, Ming Huai, ended up in that forgotten corner? Clearly, Ji Tingqian loved him most of all, so why did he forget him just like that?
Ming Huai would forever remember that feeling: he had secretly slipped into the sanatorium and stood before Ji Tingqian, smiling yet on the verge of tears. He longed to pour out all the grievances and anxieties he had endured over the past days. He had expected Ji Tingqian to comfort him just as he once did; he had believed everything was merely a lie concocted by his parents.
But when Ji Tingqian’s gaze swept past him and settled elsewhere, Ming Huai felt in that instant as though he might die. How could such an indifferent look possibly be meant for him from Ji Tingqian?
Ming Huai recalled their first meeting in two years, which had taken place at a hotel. His heart had been pounding with nervousness, though he’d forced himself to appear calm on the surface. He’d longed to throw himself into Ji Tingqian’s arms, yet all he could manage was a restrained kiss that appeared frivolous.
Ming Huai closed his eyes, slightly vexed. Making Ji Tingqian fall for someone was terribly difficult.
Ming Huai had thought that after walking for several hours, he would surely enjoy a good night’s sleep. Yet by six-thirty the next morning, he was jolted awake from his slumber by a ringing phone that refused to stop.
He fumbled for his phone and glanced at the screen; it was Yu Fanglan calling. Rubbing his eyes, thick drowsiness prevented Ming Huai from pondering why Yu Fanglan would be calling so early. Holding the phone, he got up and walked a little distance away before answering. However, before he could utter a single word, Yu Fanglan’s furious, exasperated shouting came crashing down upon him like an overwhelming wave.
“Ming Huai, for heaven’s sake! You’d better explain yourself right now—who was that woman with you last night!”
Ming Huai snapped instantly awake. “What woman?”
“You’re asking me what woman? I should be asking you!”