Chapter 67 Part 2

But from that Summer Camp meeting onward, the joint photos piled up.

Event shots galore—even back when Le Yiqiu barely knew her, Lin Xianing’s gaze in group photos always found her.

School events too: Lin Xianing was never far—three or four people between, or right behind.

Those eyes brimming with affection stirred something familiar yet distant.

She knew the school photos well, so the familiarity hit. But over those years, she’d never noticed Lin Xianing at all.

Le Yiqiu lost herself gazing at their younger selves.

Then Lin Xianing’s video call lit up.

“Did you get the photos?”

“I did.”

Lin Xianing: “…”

“Have you looked?”

Le Yiqiu nodded. “Yeah.”

Lin Xianing killed the video and switched to voice.

???

Le Yiqiu blinked in confusion. “What’s up?”

Silence from Lin Xianing. How could she admit she’d accidentally sent extras?

One last Hail Mary: “You saw all the group shots?”

Enlightenment dawned on Le Yiqiu. Ah, embarrassed about those lovestruck gazes.

“I was tempted to lie and say no.”

Before she finished, Lin Xianing hung up.

Le Yiqiu laughed at her wife’s childish huff. No chasing her down—Lin Xianing needed time to recover.

With the call ended, Le Yiqiu dove into editing, even picking a soundtrack.

Top gear made it a breeze. She lost track of time; when the video finished, it was already seven-thirty at night.

She’d arrived at two, chatted with Zhao Yu till four, tinkered with equipment a bit—then three-plus hours glued to the chair. No wonder she felt wiped.

Le Yiqiu saved the video and stepped out of the editing room. The office was deserted; when there wasn’t much work, the company always emptied out right on time at the end of the day.

She stretched her limbs and noticed the light still on in Zhao Yu’s office. Not wanting to disturb her, Le Yiqiu turned and left the building.

She drove herself home, her mind occupied with one thought the entire way.

Moments ago, fragments of images had flashed through her mind once more: her sitting in front of the computer, editing wedding photos and videos.

It was her and Lin Xianing’s wedding, complete with a professional videography team. Yet for some reason, she was the one doing the editing.

Computer… She rubbed her throbbing temples and pressed a little harder on the accelerator.

The city streets glowed with vibrant lights at night. For many people, the evening’s entertainments were just getting underway.

A little past eight, Le Yiqiu arrived home. Lin Xianing wasn’t back yet. She headed straight to the study, determined to find the videos saved on her computer.

She had gone to bed late the previous night and, unable to sleep, had done a lot of thinking.

At first, she had tried to avoid the memories that were starting to return. She knew all too well that once lost memories began resurfacing, it was like opening a crack in a floodgate—the water inside would eventually come pouring out.

Her memories worked the same way. One image would appear, followed by another, until everything came flooding back.

Whenever she did something she had done before, those familiar scenes would inevitably surface in her mind.

If that was the case, she might as well seek them out actively and take control of the process herself.

She sat down at the computer and searched for the files based on the images in her mind.

Right after losing her memory, she had gone through her computer, phone, and all her electronics. For those with password locks, she had tried anniversaries, her own birthday, her grandmother’s birthday—none of them worked.

Later, as she grew closer to Lin Xianing, she had assumed the password was Lin Xianing’s birthday, but it wasn’t.

Just now, an image had surfaced of herself setting the password. She entered it into the computer, and sure enough, a folder opened.

Inside were numerous photos and videos. She clicked on the one labeled “Wedding”—a professionally edited clip.

Spanning the length of five songs, it captured the highlights of their wedding day, every second radiating their sweetness.

Le Yiqiu immersed herself in the long video, her vision gradually blurring as memories surged forth like a tide. She remembered everything from that wedding day, along with all its related events.

After watching it, she sat motionless in the chair for a long time. Suddenly, she recalled the disc from the wedding day, which had recorded the entire day’s events and burned them onto a disc.

She found the disc in a sealed box, tightly wrapped in tape. Besides the disc, there were other things inside.

Items she had wanted to seal away forever, things she never wanted to see again.

Some of her memories had returned, but only those connected to the wedding—far short of the decade she had lost.

Unfortunately, she didn’t have a disc player. She would need to buy one to view it. She set the disc aside and examined the other contents of the box.

She had discovered this box during the move but, unsure of its purpose, had simply loaded it onto the moving truck. Deep down, she felt it was important, yet she had an inexplicable aversion to opening it. During cleanup, she had tossed it aside and forgotten about it entirely—until now.

Inside the box were her and Lin Xianing’s wedding rings. During the ceremony, they had exchanged vows and slipped the rings onto each other’s fingers.

Staring at the rings, more memories surfaced: the moment she had removed hers. Before that, she had always worn it.

Lin Xianing’s wedding ring had only been worn for the first month after their marriage.

Le Yiqiu noticed a pattern. Seeing familiar objects or doing the same actions triggered related memories.

The wedding rings, the camera… That camera was her first one, bought with her very first earnings.

The camera’s screen was shattered. In her mind appeared the image of Xie Dan smashing it.

She had kept the camera for so many years. How many precious photos must be inside—ones she had cherished enough to capture.

She wondered if the photos were salvageable, if the camera could be repaired.

Le Yiqiu tried to turn on the camera, but the battery was dead.

Among the box’s contents was a photo: a picture of her and Lin Xianing together.

In the photo, they were on a basketball court, dressed in sports gear, their foreheads glistening with sweat—as if they had just finished playing.

Could it have been during Teacher Tu’s production team? The crew had done a team-building outing where they played basketball together. Was that when it was taken?

No sooner had the question arisen than a new memory segment filled her mind.

It wasn’t during the production. It was earlier, shortly after she first met Lin Xianing.

She seemed to be teaching Lin Xianing on the court. She looked so young in the photo—nineteen? Her freshman or sophomore year?

Several key phrases came to mind. So, she had met Lin Xianing that early?

The memories resurfaced in fragments, giving her a headache and a growing sense of unease.

Some memories had returned, but not fully. Her mind brimmed with questions.

One after another, problems surfaced, a torrent of whys bottled up inside her.

Le Yiqiu put the box’s contents away in a drawer. Suddenly, another thought struck her.

At eighteen, she had gone out with Luo Luo and ended up leaving with a girl in a strapless top that night. Lin Xianing had later said she was that girl—meaning this was when they first met.

Immediately, memories of that evening flooded her mind.

She and Luo Luo had planned to go out that night to a KTV. Someone had booked an extravagant private room. Upon learning it was a mixer, and with someone confessing to her, she had excused herself to the bathroom to escape the drama.

Le Yiqiu had just stepped out of the KTV when she collided with someone.

A girl in a strapless top crashed into her arms, looking anxious and frightened.

Le Yiqiu’s imagination immediately ran wild—stories of coercion, deception, and worse.

It was raining that evening in Jianglin City. She was wearing a short-sleeved shirt with a white sun-protective jacket over it. Seeing the panic on the girl’s face, she took off her jacket and gave it to her.

The girl said at once, “I didn’t bring my bag. Could you send me home?”

Le Yiqiu hesitated for a moment. Seeing it was just a girl, she nodded in agreement.

She was especially cautious, skipping the first two taxis and choosing a later one whose driver’s photo matched the card on the dashboard.

In the cab, she learned the girl’s name: Lin Xianing.

She escorted Lin Xianing to her building. Lin Xianing asked the driver for a pen, wrote her number on Le Yiqiu’s palm, and said to contact her later to return the fare, plus the jacket.

Le Yiqiu had heard the name recently and remembered it vaguely. Plus, the girl said they had graduated from the same school, so Le Yiqiu gave her real number.

Back home, she received a WeChat friend request from Lin Xianing, with a note explaining the purpose. WeChat back then was just for chatting, no transfers yet.

Lin Xianing arranged a time to meet and return the clothes and jacket. From there, they grew acquainted.

That was how she had met Lin Xianing—she had known Lin Xianing three years later than Lin Xianing had known her.

For those three years, Lin Xianing had been in a state of secret infatuation.

Le Yiqiu’s emotions were complicated. Tonight, she had recalled so much: the wedding video, which she knew was fake, yet the edited highlights were so sweet.

The destruction of her first camera filled her with sorrow. Images surfaced of her taking photos with it—each one shot with care.

Their photo together raised even more questions.

Tonight’s flood of memories left her brain sluggish, her feelings a strange mix of sadness, grief, and joy.

But remembering how she met Lin Xianing washed away all those emotions, leaving only sweetness.

Though she had met Lin Xianing three years later, it turned out she had known her so early on.

By now, they had known each other for a little over a decade.

Not like the rumors online that they met on the production set and flash-married.

Lin Xianing had mentioned it before, piquing her curiosity for ages. Today, she finally had her answer.

From eighteen to twenty-three, when they married. She had kept so many things of Lin Xianing’s—how could she not have feelings?

Even for friendship, they had to click. For an ordinary friend, even Luo Luo, she wouldn’t treasure their photo like this.

Not in such a thoroughly sealed way, preserving their shared moments.

So, one thing was certain: their marriage might be fake, but their feelings were real.

This realization calmed Le Yiqiu’s turbulent heart. At least she no longer felt so anxious and confused.