Le Yiqiu didn’t love mingling with strangers, but Lin Xianing went, and Tu Sheng tasked her with oversight to prevent mishaps.
Everyone knew she was Tu Sheng’s student and representative.
Lin Xianing’s fame drew her entourage and extra security. Needing an on-site decision-maker, Le Yiqiu was ideal.
Young, authoritative via Tu Sheng, mature in every way—the crew liked dealing with her.
That day, Lin Xianing and Le Yiqiu played tennis from dawn till dusk.
At dinner, Lin Xianing got carried away and drank heavily.
Returning to the hotel without her assistant, Le Yiqiu helped her to the room.
As she settled Lin Xianing on the bed, Le Yiqiu muttered, “Chen Tao is so irresponsible. Even though I’m trustworthy, how could she leave you with a stranger?”
Lin Xianing didn’t respond; Le Yiqiu figured she was too drunk.
She helped Lin Xianing take off her shoes and tucked her into bed. Just as she was about to leave, Lin Xianing grabbed her hand.
Lin Xianing’s eyes were hazy. “Let’s get married.”
???
Le Yiqiu thought that hearing those words must have left her with a head full of question marks.
Was this person drunk and dreaming?
Then Lin Xianing said nothing more. She just held onto Le Yiqiu’s hand, refusing to let her go. The two of them lay together like that and slept through the night.
The next morning, Lin Xianing explained the words she’d spoken, along with the Lin Family’s situation and the reason she was so eager to get married.
Le Yiqiu had no idea what she’d been thinking at the time. She only knew that she’d agreed to a contractual marriage quite readily.
The two of them were straightforward about it. Once the film crew wrapped up, they found a time and went to register their marriage.
Lin Xianing successfully inherited her grandmother’s estate. She didn’t go into detail about the process, but it clearly hadn’t been quick.
After they married, Lin Xianing was busy with Lin Family matters and filming, so the two of them barely saw each other all year round.
As for the changes in Le Yiqiu’s personality, Lin Xianing wasn’t sure.
Perhaps because they hardly saw each other throughout the year, the changes felt especially abrupt to Lin Xianing.
Le Yiqiu felt that if she hadn’t gone through some major upheaval, this shift wouldn’t have come from one or two incidents but from a pile-up of many things that gradually transformed her.
To everyone else, though, it seemed like she’d suddenly turned reclusive.
Given how busy they both were, going months without seeing each other was normal. Even when they did manage a meeting, the time was always short, so it was natural not to notice right away—which was why her changes came across as so sudden.
In the end, after all the questioning, they still couldn’t pinpoint the reason for her shift in temperament.
But at least, she and Lin Xianing had reached an agreement.
A year was a long time. No one knew what might happen in between.
…
During this period, Lin Xianing had no work and was resting at home.
It was the end of the year, and the Lin Family was busy, so no one had time to bother them.
From other people’s accounts, Le Yiqiu pieced together the memories she’d lost. Ten years distilled into short stories, each person’s perspective on her slightly different.
It felt like she both knew herself and was learning about a stranger, giving her a rough outline of her lost decade.
She and Lin Xianing, after that heart-to-heart, had less contact than before.
They were both holding themselves back, but some feelings didn’t diminish with restraint—they only grew into deeper longing.
Little New Year’s Eve marked their first meeting since that talk.
She was going to Lin Xianing’s family home with her, starting from Little New Year’s Eve and staying through the Lantern Festival before they could leave the Lin Family.
Nearly a month stuck there.
They would face the Lin Family’s goodwill and malice together.
According to Lin Xianing, not many in the family felt genuine goodwill toward them. Most just feared Lin Xianing enough not to show open hostility, though who knew what schemes brewed in private.
That was exactly why Lin Xianing hadn’t wanted to bring Le Yiqiu back to the Lin Family.
In previous years, Le Yiqiu had enough knowledge of the family to handle things.
This year, with her amnesia, even the Mid-Autumn Festival—a big deal for the Lin Family—had been turned down by Lin Xianing.
If they skipped the New Year celebrations too, Lin Xianing would undoubtedly face attacks from the others.
As early as the twelfth lunar month, Lin Family members had been trickling back—climbing relations, vying for resources. Side branches could only return to the main house during ancestral rites like Qingming or New Year, so they came early.
Lin Xianing held out until Little New Year’s Eve. Under a barrage of phone calls from home, she finally decided to head back that day.
She and Le Yiqiu weren’t divorced, so they had to go together.
Le Yiqiu, the so-called son-in-law, found it somewhat amusing. The two of them were women— what was there to marrying into the family?
But the Lin Family required it that way for Lin Xianing to inherit the estate smoothly.
In the depths of winter, with subzero temperatures, Le Yiqiu got up early and headed to Lin Xianing’s place.
Knowing they were going to the Lin Family on Little New Year’s Eve, she’d originally planned to prepare gifts, but Lin Xianing had already taken care of everything.
Watching Chen Tao load bag after bag into the car, Le Yiqiu stepped forward to help.
Her own luggage had been loaded early—Chen Tao had picked her up first.
Lin Xianing lived in what everyone agreed was the neighborhood with the most celebrities. Paparazzi lurked outside in droves.
The cold weather had thinned their numbers, but they were still around.
To be safe, they were always cautious when heading out.
Celebrities had little privacy. Unless you lived at your family home like the Lin Family compound, anywhere else would get you spotted.
That’s why stars chose places that were secure and private. So what if people knew where you lived? They couldn’t get in.
But coming and going from the complex was always a risk of getting photographed.
After learning they were living apart, Zhao Ruo had urged them more than once to move in together soon.
Living separately without divorcing—if paparazzi shots leaked, all her previous efforts would be wasted.
Even if paparazzi couldn’t get inside, with so many celebrities in the neighborhood, one loose-lipped encounter could stir up another storm.
Lin Xianing felt too awkward to bring it up, and Le Yiqiu didn’t want to put her on the spot, so the matter dragged on.
Once everything was packed into the car, Chen Tao bundled up in her down jacket. “Teacher Le, thanks for the hard work.”
“You’re working hard too. You heading back first?”
Chen Tao had hauled everything down from upstairs, and now loading it into the car had kept her from feeling the cold too much.
“I’ll wait for the boss to come down.”
Le Yiqiu nodded. Lin Xianing was still packing upstairs, so they waited below. “Mm.”
Chen Tao sneaked a glance at her, tempted to ask why they were living apart—had they fought? In the end, she held her tongue.
She was just a working stiff and shouldn’t meddle in her boss’s affairs. She only said, “Teacher Le, drive safe on the way back.”
Le Yiqiu and Lin Xianing would drive themselves to the Lin Family. Once Chen Tao saw them off, she’d officially be on vacation.
The car was one Lin Xianing kept in her garage, rarely driven.
It was a massive SUV—clunky-looking on the outside but turned heads on the road.
Le Yiqiu rather liked this kind of vehicle. Hers was a tiny runabout, the sort even rich people wouldn’t use for grocery runs.
Looking at everything in her home, Le Yiqiu could tell that before her amnesia, her materialism had been at rock bottom.
Low materialism often came from having no expectations left for the world.
After losing her memories, Le Yiqiu rediscovered her desire for nice things, mainly in food and shelter—nutritious meals and comfortable living.
She’d also splurged on high-end photography gear, gaming setups, sports equipment, and more.
Her thinking was simple: if you had money, why make life harder than it needed to be?
At eighteen, it was prime time for fun. Over this period, she’d explored Jianglin City thoroughly, snapping plenty of photos.
She’d signed up for a social app and posted scenic shots from Xudong. Few people photos, but not none.
In just over ten days, her account had gained over a thousand followers—mostly photography buffs leaving comments with questions about her techniques.
As a director and photography enthusiast, her real skill lay in capturing beauty.
Not just pretty landscapes, but infusing them with a sense of story.
Jianglin was an ancient city, every wall and scene brimming with narrative.
Few photographers could capture that beauty and evoke those stories.
With so many shooting Jianglin’s sights, Le Yiqiu’s photos going viral spoke volumes about her skill.
She was even great at portraits—kids, elders, vendors stumbling into frame, all slices of life she’d documented.
For this trip to the Lin Family, she’d brought her gear too. Twenty-plus days there.
The family customs, ancestral rites—she wanted to photograph them all, and Lin Xianing had given the okay.
Thinking of shooting reminded her she hadn’t finished this week’s homework. She pulled out her phone and aimed it at the post-rain greenery: birds, flowers, grasses, trees.
That was Teacher Tu’s lesson: shoot lifeless subjects to evoke a story, then edit with cuts and color grading so viewers instantly got what tale she was telling.
She handled the editing and grading herself, turning it into a short video.
Le Yiqiu had made countless such videos, shooting and editing solo.
She knew mere study wasn’t enough—you had to produce outstanding work from what you’d learned.
Every week, she sent a video to her teacher as homework.
Jianglin was rainy, with days of downpours, but the sun finally emerged that morning.
The early light wasn’t warm but blazed brightly.
Le Yiqiu stood in the sunlight, phone lens trained on a bird in the tree.
The little bird tilted its head this way and that, full of curiosity about the world.
She was filming when Chen Tao’s voice rang out. “Boss.”
Le Yiqiu whipped around, her phone swinging to capture Lin Xianing coming down the stairs.
White down jacket, white knit beanie, white knit scarf—Lin Xianing was swathed in pure white, looking positively ethereal.
Her small face was mostly obscured by the hat and scarf, giving her the adorable look of a little kitty.
The moment Lin Xianing spotted Le Yiqiu, she froze, and Le Yiqiu caught the flicker of panic in her eyes.
Half a month without seeing each other, and now their gazes locked uncontrollably.
Though Lin Xianing was bundled up, Le Yiqiu could tell she’d lost weight.
Le Yiqiu pocketed her phone and flashed her first smile of the day. “Morning.”
“Morning.”
Even that simple greeting somehow brought a lump to the throat.
