Chapter 79

Inside the villa.

Ye Chengxing noticed that after she asked her question, Xi Yue and Fu Tao’s expressions had become quite complicated.

After a long moment of silence, she finally heard Xi Yue speak up. “Actually, we don’t really know how to put it. If we say she’s doing well now, she’s famous far and wide, with no shortage of anything—she really is living pretty comfortably. But somehow, it doesn’t feel quite right.”

“To be honest, everyone was furious at first when they found out she had locked you up. They couldn’t understand why she’d do something like that to the person she loved. But now, with so much time having passed, it’s all kind of poignant… Of course, we’re just talking. No matter what decision you make, sis, we’ll support you.”

Ye Chengxing listened to their voices, her gaze lowering slightly.

The moment she heard the words “locked up,” fragmented images flashed through her mind—disjointed scenes that didn’t connect into a coherent thread. Her memories were still hazy and chaotic, but she could glean something from those glimpses.

She pursed her lips and looked back up at Xi Yue and the others. “Do you still have that address? Could you tell me?”

Xi Yue and Fu Tao hesitated upon hearing this.

Seeing their reaction, Ye Chengxing assumed they no longer had the address, or perhaps the place itself no longer existed after so much time.

She paused for only a moment before letting out a wry chuckle to herself. It made perfect sense, after all. Five years had passed—five full seasons of spring, summer, autumn, and winter—not a mere five days or five months. It wouldn’t be strange if everything had changed in that span.

With that thought, she spoke again. “If the place has changed or you’ve forgotten the address, that’s fine. You don’t have to tell me.”

As her words fell, the expressions on the two faces before her grew even more hesitant.

Xi Yue’s tone was laced with reluctance. “We still remember the address, and the place hasn’t changed at all.” This much they knew: that location had remained unchanged for five years, as if it had been deliberately sealed away from the flow of time.

Hearing this, Ye Chengxing’s voice carried a note of inquiry. “So, does that mean Li Jia is still living there?”

She figured she hadn’t told them about losing part of her memories, so they couldn’t be withholding the information out of worry that it would upset her. Besides, after all this time, given Li Jia’s current status, she surely wouldn’t still be staying there.

Fu Tao squeezed her eyes shut tightly at Ye Chengxing’s words. “She’s not living there anymore, but if you go, Boss, you might actually run into her…”

“Sis, do you want to see her? Why don’t we go with you?” Xi Yue chimed in, her voice tinged with concern. “I know it sounds bad to say this, but I still think she’s kind of scary.”

Ye Chengxing instinctively responded, “She’s not scary. Li Jia is actually pretty cute.”

Her words weren’t long, but the moment “pretty cute” left her lips, the expressions of the two women sitting across from her twisted subtly for a second.

They recalled the dangerous figure from their memories and thought to themselves, Where’s the cute in that?

…Probably, whatever cuteness she had was reserved solely for Ye Chengxing. They certainly hadn’t seen any of it—though plenty of scariness, that they had.

Xi Yue and Fu Tao hemmed and hawed for a while before finally forcing out a dry laugh. “Well… maybe, possibly, there’s a tiny little bit of cuteness there.”

Ye Chengxing blinked in surprise at her own reflexive words.

When she spoke again, her voice had softened a touch. “I haven’t decided yet, but I can go by myself.”

She truly hadn’t made up her mind. Although she’d come to this world because of Li Jia, hearing Xi Yue and the others had stirred up those shattered images, leaving her uncertain about what expression or emotion to face Li Jia with if they met now.

A lot must have happened between them in the past, far more intimate than she’d imagined.

But the most pressing issue was that she still couldn’t recall those memories—only vague, blurry snippets at best.

If they really did cross paths…

She might be overthinking it. The chances of running into her were slim, anyway. Big celebrities were always busy.

Though Xi Yue and Fu Tao were uneasy, they saw how insistent Ye Chengxing was and ultimately gave her the address.

In the end, this was a matter between Ye Chengxing and Li Jia. No matter what suspicions they harbored, they wouldn’t try to stop her or meddle.

Just as they’d said before, they’d support her decision and help her without reservation whenever she needed them.

Ye Chengxing saved the address on her phone and added all their contact numbers—those present and those who weren’t.

No matter what, these two women before her were genuinely worried about her.

She curved her lips into a gentle smile for them. “I’m fine. I’ll just take a look and leave. Don’t worry about me.”

Even so, though she doubted she’d encounter Li Jia, Ye Chengxing waited until late at night before setting out.

She stared at the address on her screen.

Xi Yue and the others had described it in exhaustive detail, practically walking her there step by step.

At first, Ye Chengxing thought the directions were overly precise, but after getting off the bus, she realized there was good reason for it.

The route was circuitous, and the final stretch wound along a mountainside. A car could manage it, but whether coming from above or below, walking on foot was faster.

Following their instructions, Ye Chengxing walked for a bit and soon caught sight of a faint outline in the distance.

The area was so remote that the villa—which could almost be called a manor—stood out even more prominently.

This only reinforced her certainty that she wouldn’t run into Li Jia.

After all, it was so late now. Li Jia couldn’t possibly hike up here after a full day of work just to leave the next morning. If she were doing that, she’d probably just live here outright.

Since she didn’t live here, Ye Chengxing wouldn’t see her.

Her main worry was what she’d do if they did meet—what to say, how to avoid awkwardness.

She couldn’t recall the details, but Li Jia remembered everything.

She had no idea what emotions Li Jia held toward her now.

If Li Jia still cared, then her amnesia would be heartbreaking.

The word “heartbreaking” conjured an image in her mind: a young woman in a wedding dress, holding a bouquet of white roses.

…She didn’t want to hurt her again.

She even found herself wondering why her memories were so fragmented. 999 had said someone used the System’s Wish Contract to make her forget this period, and though she hadn’t fully forgotten, it didn’t stop her from wanting to track down that person and make them pay.

With a sigh, Ye Chengxing shook her head.

No matter what, the fuzziness of those memories was a done deal.

Of course, there was another possibility: that in these five years, Li Jia had been trying to move on and let go. The girl in her dreams had been eighteen, but now she was twenty-three.

Time changed so much—even the deepest feelings could fade with the years, dissolving bit by bit into nothing.

Lost in such scattered thoughts, Ye Chengxing drew near the villa.

Her body felt fine, but her heart ached faintly from the jumble of wild ideas swirling in her head along the way.

If they did meet, should she start with “long time no see” and ask how she’d been?

…Yeah, try to keep it natural.

At last, Ye Chengxing reached the villa.

By the time she arrived, more disjointed images had flickered through her mind.

But before she could grasp them, her eyes lifted to the figure standing at the door not far away.

The lights by the villa’s entrance were on, illuminating the woman who stood there without going inside.

She lit a cigarette, cupping the flame carelessly as the wind toyed with it.

The curling smoke dispersed quickly in the breeze, the ember flaring and dimming, casting her teardrop mole into sharp relief. She seemed no different from the smoke itself, as if she might scatter into the night at any moment.

In that instant, Ye Chengxing understood what Xi Yue and the others had meant by “she’s doing well, but it doesn’t feel right.”

The woman was alive, yet no different from if she’d died.

She was a touch taller than before, but still so slender.

Like ice encasing everything, sealing it all away beneath—including herself.

Ye Chengxing had no idea how long she’d been standing there or when she planned to leave. She looked ready to remain beneath the night sky until dawn.

Her heart seemed to stop in that moment.

By the time she snapped out of it, Ye Chengxing was already just a step away from Li Jia.

These five years… how had Li Jia endured them?

Suddenly, Ye Chengxing found it hard to breathe.

But before she could speak, the figure seemed to sense something and turned around first.

The instant she saw Ye Chengxing, she stubbed out the cigarette in her own hand.

Unlike her abrupt motion, her expression remained calm—calm as if Ye Chengxing’s appearance, her return, was an everyday occurrence unworthy of stirring any emotion.

“This illusion feels so real this time…”

Ye Chengxing caught Li Jia murmuring something under her breath, but the words were too soft to make out.

She watched the red ember die between those pale, cold fingers. All the words she’d prepared vanished from her mind, and she hurried forward on instinct, taking Li Jia’s hand in hers. She lowered her gaze to inspect it, her tone unconsciously laced with heartache. “Li Jia, does it hurt?”

The starlight blurred overhead, a breeze stirring stray strands of hair.

The woman before her froze for two seconds at her words, then suddenly curved her lips into a smile.

“…Yeah, it hurts.”