One more time.
One more time, and maybe she could remember everything. Jiang Ruoning looked at Shi Sui with burning eyes, but in her eager gaze, Shi Sui saw not emotion, but a pursuit of some unknown truth. Shi Sui frowned and didn’t answer Jiang Ruoning’s question. Her calm attitude stung Jiang Ruoning, leaving her standing there as she asked Shi Sui, “You don’t want to?”
Shi Sui asked her in return, “Why?”
It was obvious Jiang Ruoning wasn’t moved by passion or wanting to actually do anything with her. She seemed to want to verify something. Jiang Ruoning hadn’t expected Shi Sui to be so perceptive, seeing through her intentions at once, so she simply said outright, “I want to recover my memories.”
Shi Sui repeated like a parrot, “Recover your memories?”
What did doing… doing those things have to do with it?
Seeing her confusion, Jiang Ruoning pursed her lips. “How do you think I remembered?”
“You…” Shi Sui was stunned. “That’s impossible.”
She had never heard of anyone recovering memories like this. Back then, the doctor said Jiang Ruoning’s brain nerves had been compressed by accumulated blood, and even after clearing it, her memories didn’t return. The doctor said it was normal; that part of the memories might never come back. At that time, besides the pain, Shi Sui had felt a bit of relief.
She was relieved that Jiang Ruoning didn’t have to consciously endure those pains. To say she didn’t hope Jiang Ruoning would recover her memories would be a lie—who wouldn’t want the person they loved to remember them? But she was even less willing to see Jiang Ruoning recall the past humiliations, the begging, the helplessness, her own lowliness, her tolerance—everything that broke Shi Sui’s heart. So she didn’t want Jiang Ruoning to recover her memories.
But Jiang Ruoning had recovered them, and Shi Sui could feel it was fragmentary because sometimes her questions left Jiang Ruoning confused.
Just stop here, she thought. No need to continue recovering them.
But Jiang Ruoning seemed to have found the key to unlocking her memories and was turning the doorknob, about to open that door.
Shi Sui lowered her eyes and asked Jiang Ruoning, “What do you want to know?”
Jiang Ruoning didn’t hesitate. “I want to know how I fell from the building.”
Shi Sui’s heart skipped a beat, but her voice remained steady. “It was an accident.”
Jiang Ruoning didn’t believe it at all. She stood in front of Shi Sui, face to face, very close. She could clearly see the tiny water droplets on Shi Sui’s eyelashes, shimmering faintly under the light, refracting a subtle hue. Jiang Ruoning said, “It really was an accident?”
Shi Sui tensed her body, her throat tightening painfully, but she remained composed. “It really was an accident.”
Jiang Ruoning said, “Shi Sui, don’t lie to me. I’ll remember everything.”
Shi Sui asked, “In this way?”
Jiang Ruoning opened her mouth, then played rogue. “You said you’d be my bedmate on call.”
Shi Sui nodded. “Not tonight.”
Jiang Ruoning was unhappy. “Why?”
Shi Sui said, “I’m on my period.”
Jiang Ruoning looked at her. “What a coincidence.”
Shi Sui nodded. Jiang Ruoning didn’t quite believe it, but she couldn’t exactly pull down Shi Sui’s pants to check. In the end, they compromised. “Then kiss me.”
She remembered that kissing worked too. The first time they kissed, she’d recalled many scenes. Shi Sui licked her lips and asked Jiang Ruoning, “Aren’t you afraid of catching my cold?”
Jiang Ruoning frowned. “Aren’t you better now?”
Shi Sui said, “I’m still coughing. My throat hurts a lot right now, probably from the wind tonight.”
“You—” Jiang Ruoning looked at her. “You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?”
Shi Sui looked innocent. “Really not. If I kiss you and you catch a cold that affects your work, don’t blame me.”
She leaned toward Jiang Ruoning as she spoke. Jiang Ruoning backed away. “Wait, wait…”
Actually, it wasn’t that urgent. She’d just hit that sticking point and couldn’t get past it, but talking it out with Shi Sui now eased the urgency. She could wait until they got back. It was only four or five days until they returned from Yongquan. She could find Shi Sui then for another round, and maybe she’d remember.
Jiang Ruoning made up her mind and felt much more relaxed. She held out her hand to Shi Sui. Shi Sui looked down, and Jiang Ruoning raised a brow. “Pajamas.”
Since Shi Sui was on her period anyway, nothing would happen no matter what. Jiang Ruoning wasn’t worried. She didn’t really want to drive home now anyway; she was too tired. Shi Sui fetched a set of milky white pajama dress from the bedroom and handed it to her. Jiang Ruoning had seen Shi Sui’s taste in clothes, so she wasn’t surprised. The dress went past the knees, only slightly fitted at the waist, and wasn’t revealing anywhere else.
One hundred percent safe and reassuring.
Jiang Ruoning took the pajamas into the bathroom. On the sink counter sat a newly opened pack of sanitary pads. She bit her lip.
She’d misunderstood Shi Sui. She really was on her period.
Feeling a bit embarrassed, she turned toward the door. The solid wooden door blocked the view outside, but she somehow knew what Shi Sui was doing—pouring water, probably to take medicine. She thought of how Shi Sui had taken meds during breaks while doing her makeup at the company today.
It matched what she’d said about her throat hurting so much.
Jiang Ruoning’s guilt deepened. She quickly showered and came out to see Shi Sui leaning on the sofa, head tilted as if about to sleep. She walked over and said to Shi Sui, “You go rest on the bed.”
Shi Sui turned her head. Seeing her out, the fatigue in her brows and eyes couldn’t be hidden. She asked Jiang Ruoning, “What about you?”
Jiang Ruoning glanced at the sofa. “I’ll sleep here.”
She was used to sleeping on sofas. A nap to recharge, and she could head home by five or six in the morning. Shi Sui looked down at the sofa. “You sleep on the bed; I’ll take the sofa.”
As she spoke, she coughed muffledly. Jiang Ruoning belatedly realized Shi Sui had been coughing occasionally all evening, but she hadn’t paid much attention. And she’d just made such an outrageous demand. Jiang Ruoning said, “I don’t want to bully a sick patient. You go rest on the bed.”
Then she asked Shi Sui, “Did you take your medicine?”
Shi Sui nodded. “Just did.”
Jiang Ruoning asked, “Did you drink the pear water from that day too?”
Shi Sui made a sound of acknowledgment. “Yes.” She seemed to recall the taste and frowned. Seeing Shi Sui really wasn’t well, Jiang Ruoning stopped teasing her. “Go to sleep then.”
Shi Sui looked at her. “Together.”
It was as if she wouldn’t sleep unless Jiang Ruoning went to bed too. That stubborn expression was just like a child’s. Jiang Ruoning felt like she’d become a mom with such a big daughter. She pursed her lips. “Fine, let’s go.”
Shi Sui’s hair was still muffled in the shower cap, half-dry, but Jiang Ruoning feared she’d get a headache if she slept like that, so she fetched the hairdryer from the bathroom and blew her hair completely dry before taking her to bed.
It wasn’t their first time sharing a bed, but the previous times had been intense and wild. Lying there so peacefully felt a bit unaccustomed to Jiang Ruoning. She turned her head. The room lights were dimmed, the surroundings dark, but Jiang Ruoning could still clearly sense the position of every item in the room—not because she’d been there a few times, but because many things were bought by her. The built-in wardrobe used to be half-filled with her clothes.
Shi Sui’s clothes were expensive and few. Back when they shopped together, one outfit from Shi Sui cost enough for Jiang Ruoning to buy four or five. Shi Sui didn’t deliberately choose expensive things; it was just her lifelong habits guiding her choices effortlessly.
Back then, she’d asked Shi Sui, “Our economic gap is so big—can we really be together properly in the future?”
Shi Sui had smiled and hugged her. “Why not? With such a big economic gap, just take my money and save it up quick. Then if I go bankrupt someday, you can support me.”
She’d been delighted. “That works too?”
Shi Sui had nodded.
But she hadn’t actually taken Shi Sui’s money to save.
If only she had; she’d get scolded by her mom for having impure motives anyway.
Jiang Ruoning chuckled aloud as she thought about it. Shi Sui heard and asked, “What are you laughing at?”
“Hey.” Jiang Ruoning said, “What were you doing when your mom used to scold me?”
Shi Sui’s body stiffened. She turned her head toward the window, keeping her voice as even as possible. “I wasn’t home.”
“As expected.” Jiang Ruoning said, “I knew right away your mom was full of schemes.” She poked at Shi Sui. “You won’t get mad if I say that, right?”
Shi Sui closed her eyes. “No.”
Jiang Ruoning said, “Do you hate her?”
Shi Sui opened her mouth. Jiang Ruoning pressed, “You do hate her a little, don’t you?”
The person beside her rolled over, one leg draping over Jiang Ruoning’s, one hand resting on her waist in a half-hug, half-embrace. She buried herself in Jiang Ruoning’s arms and mumbled, “Sleep.”
Jiang Ruoning had been busy all day changing clothes and makeup; she was exhausted long ago. Hearing this, her eyelids drooped. She turned her head and stared blankly at a coat rack behind the door.
She’d bought it.
Many years ago, at a flea market. She’d liked its simple style at first sight—peach-colored, not quite matching the room’s decor. No matter where she placed it, it clashed, so it ended up shoved behind the door, out of sight unless the door was open.
She hadn’t expected it to still be there.
Jiang Ruoning wanted to comment on this “ancient” item, but hearing Shi Sui’s breathing, drowsiness overtook her. Before falling asleep, she wanted to turn and look at Shi Sui but didn’t manage it.
Shi Sui listened to Jiang Ruoning’s steady breathing, opened her eyes, and scooted closer, one arm wrapping around her body to hold her, the other adjusting Jiang Ruoning’s sleeping position. She still slept restlessly after all these years. Shi Sui’s lips curved slightly upward as she fixed her posture, then lay back beside her without sleeping, just staring at the ceiling and the flush-mounted light above.
The room was quiet; their breathing grew more pronounced, mingling with each other’s heartbeats. Shi Sui felt as if she’d gone back to their freshman year, when they were dating, the happiest, most carefree time.
Just stop here. Let Jiang Ruoning’s memories stop here. No need to go further, no need to go back.
But in this world, things rarely went as wished.
Shi Sui held Jiang Ruoning and softly called, “Ningning.”
In her dream, Jiang Ruoning kept hearing someone call her, but she couldn’t see who. Her vision blurred, body immobile. The person seemed to hold her, shouting desperately, even slapping her cheeks. “Jiang Ruoning, don’t sleep. Don’t sleep, okay?”
Don’t sleep?
Jiang Ruoning opened her eyes to the ceiling and flush light. Not sleeping, and she’d drop dead from exhaustion.
She’d slept beautifully. Waking at six in the morning to her phone vibrating— a message from Wu Jie about the weather there and what to bring. After replying, Jiang Ruoning looked out the window. Sunlight squeezed through the gaps, warming the room.
