Chapter 151: Twenty-Eight

【Side Story: Lin Zixi】

Snow—everywhere was a vast expanse of blinding white snow.

She knelt in the frigid snowfield, plunging her hands into the icy cold and digging frantically. The surroundings were deathly silent, save for a single beam of moonlight that shone down coldly.

She gasped for breath, sobbing as tears streamed endlessly down her cheeks, freezing stiff against her skin.

Where? Where on earth are you?

You… where exactly are you?

The chill spread from her fingertips through her limbs, the pain so intense it made her heart convulse. Like a trapped beast, she searched desperately in every spot that might hold a miracle, inching forward on her knees through the snow.

The cold amplified every agony. She breathed in the sharp air in ragged gasps, her pleas escaping in helpless wails.

Where are you? Where on earth are you?

Ye Can!

She screamed that person’s name, as if to shatter the nightmare’s illusion. In the depths of utter despair, she unearthed a frozen hand from the snow—and then wailed in heartbroken sobs!

Thus, she jolted awake from the dream once more, tears streaming.

Lin Zixi curled up in bed, opening her bleary, tear-filled eyes to stare blankly at the shaft of light leaking in from the window. She murmured to herself, “Xiao Can…”

Xiao Can—this isn’t right. That’s not her real name.

In countless nights within her dreams, she had called out the other’s true name. Yet every time she woke, that name slipped from her memory.

It was like this night after night.

Lin Zixi clutched the blanket, burying her sweat-dampened face in it. She curled into a ball, pressing a hand helplessly to her chest to suppress the pain, biting down hard on her lip.

After a long while, Lin Zixi caught her breath and sat up in bed. She reached for her phone on the nightstand and lit up the screen.

The time read “3:27″—the dead of night, as expected. Lin Zixi sighed, reached out to flick the bedside switch, and with a click, the room’s lights flickered on.

She slid out of bed and headed straight for the bathroom. Soon, the sound of rushing water filled the space.

It was late autumn now, the weather already turning chilly, but Lin Zixi had still broken out in a cold sweat from the nightmare.

Half a year—it had been nearly half a year, and almost every night, she woke from these same tormenting dreams. Even now, she couldn’t escape this nightmare.

She clearly remembered that one late night: she’d just wrapped up the script for the second season of Limbo Inn, driving home from Fanhua Film City when her brakes failed, sending her crashing into the mountainside.

She had thought her life would end there in that accident. But when she opened her eyes, she was in a hospital. At first, Lin Zixi assumed some good Samaritan had saved her—only to receive a completely different truth.

She had been saved, but not from the car crash—from an avalanche.

When she awoke, it was three years later. Or rather, she had lost three years of memory.

Though Lin Zixi found it absurd, everyone’s accounts confirmed the fact: she had indeed lost her memory.

To make sense of it, she spent some time investigating what she’d done in those three years. The answer she uncovered was this: that night, there had been no car crash. Instead, she had rescued someone named “Xiao Can” and brought her home.

This Xiao Can had remarkable talent as an actress. Her debut role was opposite Meng Zhiqiu in Above the Throne. Then, to promote her, Lin Zixi starred with her in a segment of Limbo Inn Season 2—Calamity Nation.

After Calamity Nation exploded in popularity, Lin Zixi founded her own studio, signed Xiao Can, and even became her manager. Not only that, Xiao Can’s first lead film role was from a script Lin Zixi wrote and produced herself. Though modestly budgeted by industry standards, Xiao Can’s stellar performance turned it into a massive hit, filling both their pockets.

From then on, Xiao Can’s career sailed smoothly until, after winning Best Actress, she hinted at retiring from the industry.

Before her retirement, she joined a reality show. Right after filming wrapped, she met her end at the Ski Resort.

Xiao Can, with her boundless future, was gone—just like that.

“She died. Her family signed the papers and took her body back home. They don’t want to see you again, and since you don’t remember… that’s it.”

When Jiang Yue laid out the truth, Lin Zixi was struck by an overwhelming sense of absurdity. She stared blankly at Jiang Yue as tears burst forth like floodgates opening, splashing uncontrollably onto the bed in fat drops.

She died… that person died…

The realization unleashed grief without end, drowning Lin Zixi completely.

Everything that followed unfolded just as hastily as her groggy mornings.

Lost in grief and amnesia, Lin Zixi had no strength to verify the truth. She simply followed doctor’s orders: got her checkups, awaited discharge. All matters concerning “Xiao Can” were handed to her studio manager. Unbeknownst to Lin Zixi, the person she’d forgotten “died” once more in the public eye.

Lin Zixi stayed in the hospital for half a month. When discharge day came, her closest friends from those three years—Meng Zhiqiu and Jiang Yue—came to pick her up. Even after the storm, paparazzi and entertainment reporters swarmed the hospital entrance, hungry for a statement from the other party involved.

So when Lin Zixi appeared at the doors, cameras thrust forward, firing sharp questions.

Did Lin Zixi, as a key figure, bear responsibility for Xiao Can’s death?

Why return to the Ski Resort right after filming?

What exactly happened there that day?

Did you kill Xiao Can?!

Propped up by Jiang Yue and Meng Zhiqiu, Lin Zixi pushed through the crowd, her chest tight, unable to utter a word. All she heard on repeat was: Did you kill her? Did you kill her?

Kill who?

You killed Can-can.

As they walked, Lin Zixi realized her face was already streaked with tears. The endless accusations left her utterly adrift in the impenetrable throng.

In that moment, everyone around her seemed like clawing demons, poised to strip her bare, tear her apart until nothing remained.

Dazed, Lin Zixi followed Jiang Yue onward until she simply couldn’t anymore. Staring blankly at the chaos before her, her knees buckled. She collapsed to the ground and cried like a helpless child.

I don’t know… I don’t know anything!

She cradled her face, tears surging through her fingers. Head bowed, she sobbed wretchedly: “I don’t know… I don’t know anything…”

“How could she… how could she just die like that?”

Lin Zixi’s cries were muffled, like the howl of a trapped beast. Jiang Yue, shielding her, glared up at the reporters still snapping away with their SLRs. Fury boiling over, she bellowed, “Keep shooting! Shoot your mom! Have you no conscience?!”

The once-elegant queen before the cameras kicked off her high heels and swung them viciously at the heartless media.

Screams erupted; the scene descended into chaos.

Jiang Yue carved a bloody path with her heels, twisting back to yell at Meng Zhiqiu, who was guarding Lin Zixi, “Meng Zhiqiu, get her out of here, now!”

Meng Zhiqiu glanced up at her, then bent to help the bewildered Lin Zixi to her feet. They followed Jiang Yue out of the madhouse.

Afterward, Lin Zixi checked back into the hospital.

Even with no memories, the reporters swarmed her like sharks scenting blood. With no choice, she holed up in the hospital to evade them.

And she was ill—for from then on, she endured the same nightmare every night. In her dreams, the girl named “Xiao Can” died again and again.

Even without memories, the feeling made one truth crystal clear to Lin Zixi: she loved that person.

She had loved her—through the lost memories, and lost her completely in the end.

Her doctor even speculated: perhaps she loved her too much, so when she left, Lin Zixi erased those memories.

Forgetting love means no need to taste loss.

But why, even now in forgetfulness, did it hurt so much?

Just dreaming of that frozen hand, night after night, was excruciating. If she truly remembered, could she even survive?

She’d die, wouldn’t she? Knowing they once loved, then realizing it was lost forever—she’d want to die.

To this day, Lin Zixi finally saw how fragile she was. Half a year later, she still hadn’t healed.

Maybe she never would.

With that thought, Lin Zixi sighed, shut off the shower, and stepped out of the bathroom.

Wrapped in a towel, her long wet hair loose, she approached the mirror and studied her reflection. The woman staring back had gaunt, pale cheeks, prominent collarbones, and shoulders too slender—utterly frail and unappealing.

Yes, unappealing. Utterly hideous.

Especially that soft, sorrowful face, brimming with imminent tears—it only made her uglier.

Lin Zixi frowned, scrutinizing her mirror image for a long moment before relaxing with a soft sigh.

Grief had its limits. If she kept sinking into it, she’d never recover. Joy and sorrow, separation and reunion—they were human constants. To wallow like this was absurd.

Do I even remember her name? Do I know why I’m grieving? If not, why the pain? Need a reason to grieve, right?

You loved her so much—why forget her? If you forgot, why dream of her?

Maybe only remembering everything will give answers.

Lin Zixi sighed softly, gazing at her woebegone reflection. She patted her cheeks like self-encouragement: “No more… no crying tomorrow night.”

“Before the next dawn breaks, remember her name, okay?”

No more fleeing in sorrow, she thought.

If it was love, beauty must have existed. How could she bear to lose those beautiful moments when she loved her so? With her gone, only Lin Zixi could preserve that love.

Remember, Lin Zixi. Maybe then, the girl from your dreams will return.

She encouraged herself again, as she did every nightmare wake-up. Yet Lin Zixi knew the next night might jolt her awake once more.

But for now, she held onto hope.