Night.
Tianlin City, New District, a villa.
On the big bed, one big and one small figure cuddled together in sleep.
The night wind gently stirred the window curtain, causing it to sway ever so slightly as the moonlight spilled into the room, bringing a soft glow to this quiet night.
Time ticked away, second by second.
At the foot of the bed, a shadow gradually began to move.
A red cord, as thick as a finger, quietly wrapped around the girl’s slender, fair neck.
As she shifted restlessly, the thin but tough red cord swayed with her movements, inch by inch tightening around the girl’s neck…
“Mm…”
The girl awoke with a muffled cry, struggling, but her mouth was covered by a pale, delicate hand.
Her eyes widened in terror, staring at the person hidden in the darkness, pupils shrinking!
Sunlight beamed brightly as a pale blue frisbee spun through the air, making a “whoosh, whoosh” sound.
After Zhao Yicheng swiftly took care of a mountain of matters and handed the company over to Li Yuan for the month, Xu Yinsheng happily received a month of paid leave.
After all, if the boss himself couldn’t even go to work now, what was the point of her, as the secretary, showing up?
So the two of them stayed holed up in the villa, binge-watching dramas, playing chess, gaming, and taking walks by the river at dusk, pretty much starting their retirement life early.
Xu Yinsheng wore a sporty outfit, her long hair fluttering in the wind. Beneath her high collar, a faint red mark could be glimpsed from time to time.
“Catch.”
She yawned, looking a little dazed, then flicked her wrist.
The frisbee shot out like an arrow, flying straight toward her companion.
Zhao Yicheng jumped, stretched out his small hand, caught the frisbee with a smack, and tossed it back.
The two of them kept throwing the frisbee back and forth like this.
Suddenly, while running, Xu Yinsheng twisted her ankle.
The frisbee slipped from her grasp and shot rapidly toward the opposite side—right where Zhao Yicheng was standing.
Ever since he’d accidentally drunk the shrinking potion, Zhao Yicheng’s attributes—except for his strength—had dropped sharply, agility included.
He couldn’t dodge in time.
With a dull “thud!”, the frisbee smacked hard against Zhao Yicheng’s forehead.
Blood immediately gushed from his scalp, staining his white collar red as he toppled backward and fell to the ground.
Xu Yinsheng saw this and quickly scrambled up to check on him.
Zhao Yicheng sat up, pressing a hand to the wound on his forehead.
Bright blood trickled down his arm and dripped onto the grass, forming a small pool.
He glanced at Xu Yinsheng. Her little face was taut with worry, panic flooding her eyes.
She looked like she was about to cry, at a total loss, utterly flustered.
A warmth bloomed in his heart.
She really does care about me, he thought.
Just as he was about to say something to comfort her, Xu Yinsheng stammered out, “I-I-I didn’t mean to! Don’t—don’t hit me!”
The words of comfort stuck in Zhao Yicheng’s throat, neither coming out nor going down.
His face darkened instantly.
Seeing his expression change, Xu Yinsheng grew even more nervous, shrinking like a startled bunny.
“Calm down. People with mental illnesses get out of control if they get emotional. You already tormented me enough last night—let me rest a bit during the day.”
At that, Zhao Yicheng nearly laughed in disbelief.
What did she mean, ‘get out of control’? What did she mean, he tormented her at night?
She made him sound like some domestic abuser.
Since childhood, hadn’t he always taken care of her, spoiled her?
He’d never hit her—he didn’t even have enough time to love her!
If it weren’t for the inappropriate setting, Zhao Yicheng would’ve asked her if her brain was filled with tofu dregs.
He scowled.
“Go get the First Aid Kit. It’s in the third drawer on the left side of my bedroom.”
Xu Yinsheng nodded quickly, hurriedly got up, and ran out.
Within seconds, she returned with the First Aid Kit in hand, set it down, and stood off to the side in silence.
Did he look that scary?
He was just mentally ill, not some—domestic abuser.
“Come here, bandage me up.”
“I don’t know how.”
“I’ll teach you.”
“But…”
“If you keep dawdling, I’ll treat you to a taste of the belt tonight.”
Seeing his face so dark and scary, Xu Yinsheng could only bite the bullet and walk over to his side, crouching down.
“First, use a cotton swab with alcohol to disinfect the wound, then wrap it with gauze.”
Zhao Yicheng gave a brief explanation of the steps.
Xu Yinsheng nodded obediently, opened the First Aid Kit, and took out disinfectant, cotton, and gauze, preparing to clean his wound.
With one hand holding the alcohol-soaked cotton, the other holding gauze, she cautiously reached toward his injury.
As soon as she touched the wound, Zhao Yicheng frowned.
Xu Yinsheng was startled, but a small hand suddenly grabbed her hand, pressing the cotton swab firmly against the bloody wound.
“Don’t be scared. I haven’t done anything to you lately, and my condition is stable. I won’t suddenly lose control.”
He looked up at her seriously and said, “If you have anything on your mind, you can tell me.”
His words were gentle and soothing, making people want to trust him.
Even Xu Yinsheng couldn’t help but say, “You forgot?”
“Forgot what?”
Zhao Yicheng began to doubt himself.
Had he really done something to wrong her?
Even when his illness acted up, he could at least remember afterward.
Zhao Yicheng’s uncertainty seemed to give Xu Yinsheng some confidence.
She pointed at the red mark on her neck, gritting her teeth.
“These past few nights, don’t tell me you don’t even remember what you did!!”
Now it was Zhao Yicheng’s turn to be confused.
What had he done?
He honestly couldn’t remember.
Could it be that his mental illness had progressed to intermittent amnesia?
When Zhao Yicheng didn’t answer, Xu Yinsheng rolled her eyes at him and decided to expose his last bit of pretense.
“Starting two nights ago, you spent half the night awake, wrapping a red cord around my neck and smacking my butt, mumbling something about riding a big horse.
“What? Afraid to own up now?”
“Men. Hmph!”
Zhao Yicheng fell silent, completely baffled, with no memory of any such events.
But from the determined look on Xu Yinsheng’s face, she didn’t seem to be lying.
So he’d really lost his memory?
The more Xu Yinsheng spoke, the angrier she became.
She felt Zhao Yicheng wasn’t even human—he wouldn’t come home, and when he did, he found new ways to torment her, then played dumb and refused to admit it.
You think you know someone, but you never truly do.
Where had that good buddy, good brother Zhao Yicheng gone?
After bandaging his wound, she gave a cold snort, turned to leave—only for a small hand to grab her arm. Zhao Yicheng looked at her and took a deep breath.
“Let me tell you something. Believe it or not, I don’t remember any of what you said.”
“Maybe I…lost my memory.”