Once the contract had been signed, the rental deposit went right into Sun Yuhan’s bank card. She spun the card between her fingers. For some reason, her heart felt heavier than before. It was strange—she had money, a new house, and pretty much anything she desired; so why was she feeling so uneasy?
The more capable Jiu Yue was, the more she grew afraid.
It was even worse than what they had back then. Back then, they were poor, but they got by relying on each other. She worked at a small private enterprise where the pay was pathetic, while Jiu Yue took on gigs like distributing flyers and delivering milk. They made little every month, but it had made her feel like they were long-term couples. But now…
Even she could not say what went wrong. Something bothered her. Something that she could not explain and made her uncomfortable. Something she never put to words.
At night, she dragged Jiu Yue to go shopping with her.
She held Jiu Yue’s hand and rocked it gently. She liked the warmth on his fingers. His fingers were warm, but she couldn’t help but worry that they would slip out of her grip someday.
“Let’s get married, Jiu Yue,” she said suddenly, having mustered her courage. At first, she took care of Jiu Yue only because she needed company, and to repay him for saving her life during the flood. Jiu Yue had lost his memories because of her, and to him, she held gratitude and guilt. She had never thought about marrying him, or if he was the right one for her.
But now, with their living conditions, she grew fearful that he would leave her.
She couldn’t bear to part with him. She needed him.
“You do realize that I’m a man who doesn’t know my own identity?” said Jiu Yue coolly. He had never held Sun Yuhan’s hand on his own; she always took the initiative. Neither did he ever think about marrying her.
He had not yet regained his past, his memories.
He could’ve been married. Could’ve even been a father. Accepting her proposal before getting his memories back was not only imprudent, but also irresponsible to themselves.
Such irresponsibility could turn into sin, a sin that neither of them can shoulder.
“What if you never regain your memories?” asked Sun Yuhan, giving his fingers a hard pinch. Jiu Yue did not flinch, apparently impervious to pain.
He had, of course, considered the possibility as well. What if he never regains his memory and lives the rest of his life this way?
He had posted the question to himself for countless times, but no answers popped up in his mind. He did not know how to answer it.
They continued walking forward. This wasn’t a pleasant conversation at all.
Sun Yuhan stopped walking and sniffed. Then she began to cry. How could she not cry? She could not have felt more miserable. Women’s tears are their best weapon, a weapon that was stronger and more effective than any man’s fist when used well.
Jiu Yue stopped too. At length, he reached over and placed his hand on her shoulders. Even as he did so, he did not grant her any promises.
Sun Yuhan’s face darkened. She pinched his hand so hard she nearly tore some flesh off, but Jiu Yue walked on in silence, as though Sun Yuhan was pinching a log instead of him.
He did not know what pain was.
Sun Yuhan hung her head low and kicked a rock by the road. Perhaps she had kicked it too far, for she heard a soft exclaim. Someone must have been hit, she thought. Jiu Yue made to investigate, but Sun Yuhan dragged him away, afraid of the consequences.
Jiu Yue looked down at her panicking profile. In the end, he pursed his lips and said nothing.
They heard some footsteps behind them. Sun Yuhan heaved a sigh of relief. The rock probably didn’t land in the unlucky fellow’s eyes, or anywhere that mattered.
Soon after they left, a woman emerged from the garden, her head hung low. She was looking at her cup of milk tea, which had a rock in it.
She shook her head and threw the cup into the trash.
Who did it? She could promise not to hit the culprit, though she might beat them to death.
She turned around to buy another cup. The cold wind blustered against her face. Her lips were red, her teeth gleaming white, and her features delicate. She smiled at the remembrance of something.
That was when her phone rang. She rifled her phone from her bag and walked to the side of the road, where she had parked her bicycle.
“What’s wrong? Is he still insistent on getting his role?”
“Exactly,” said Luo Lin, irritated. “His manager comes here every day.”
“Haven’t you directed him to me?”
“I did. He’s doing his final struggles because he couldn’t find you.”
“Ignore him and focus on finalizing the cast members,” said Yan Huan, hopping onto her bike. She had started the day on high spirits, but now she was feeling a little gloomy, perhaps thanks to the rock in her milk tea.
Sun Yuhan picked at her food. She looked up at the man sitting across her, whose attention was solely on his food. Since the start of dinner, he had not said a single word. She always knew there was a phrase known as “cold violence”, but not what it meant; now she did.
“Let’s go out after dinner, Jiu Yue. There’s some stuff I would like to buy,” she suggested.
Jiu Yue continued eating, neither consenting nor objecting.
Sun Yuhan suddenly reached over and grabbed his hand.
“I’m sorry, okay? I won’t do it again. I’m just not used to all this. Don’t you remember what happened last time, when we got scammed after knocking someone down? He was perfectly fine, but we had to live on pickled vegetables and white buns for days afterward.”
Jiu Yue reached out and fondled her hair, letting out a soft sigh.
“Don’t do it again. We have the money to make amendments now. For certain types of people, all we owe is an apology, but not everyone is like that guy.”
As far as he knew, one should always own up to his own mistakes and take responsibility. To him, that was what morals meant. Perhaps all the other party wanted was an apology. Escaping like what they did gave him a troubled conscience.
His moral baseline forbids him from doing something like that.
“I know,” said Sun Yuhan as she gladly returned to her food, feeling much better.
After dinner, she dragged Jiu Yue outside to wander around aimlessly. It was only 7 PM, so there were many people outside. They had the option of going to the parade square, where they could watch middle-aged women doing their routine mass dance. Sun Yuhan used to love watching them. Of course, she never participated herself. She had put in a decent amount of time trying to learn the dance but to no avail, which she blamed on a lack of talent. In the end, she was content herself as part of the audience.
