Chapter 67

The blood in her body seemed to freeze completely, flowing through her pathways back to her heart all at once. Yan He froze on the spot in an instant, staring blankly at the door handle gripped tightly in her hand, both of her hands trembling.

Anxious footsteps sounded behind her, and in the next moment, she was gathered tightly into a soft embrace. Lu Youqing held her firmly, speaking into her ear in near-incoherent phrases:

“A-He, can you please calm down first? Don’t go—I beg you, please don’t go! I really can’t handle losing you again. Over these past six months, I never treated you like I did before. I swear I didn’t! Please listen to my explanation, please don’t leave.”

Scalding tears fell onto Yan He’s neck. The warm breath emanating from Lu Youqing felt like a searing chain wrapping tightly around her, binding her heart, her consciousness, and her nerves.

Her body grew hotter and hotter, yet Yan He’s mind became increasingly clear—so clear that she suddenly let out a laugh.

“Is that true?” She heard her own voice, remarkably tender and laced with an ambiguous affection, a gentle softness reserved exclusively for lovers.

The person holding her from behind stiffened completely. Lu Youqing lifted her head in near disbelief, her tear-filled, seductive eyes glowing with instant delight.

“Yes, A-He, I’m not lying to you! If you don’t believe me, think back over these six months—I really haven’t done any of those things. I know what I did before was terrible, and you have every right to be angry. I know I can’t ask for your forgiveness, but I just hope you can give me a small chance. I truly, truly can’t live without you.”

Sensing the softening in Yan He’s attitude, Lu Youqing apologized profusely, desperate for Yan He to calm down, for Yan He to look at her, and to stop being so furious.

Yan He turned around gently, resting both hands against Lu Youqing’s tear-stained cheeks to lightly wipe away her tears. Lu Youqing was truly breathtaking—her trembling eyelashes held tiny teardrops, like early morning flowers dusted with frost, exquisitely beautiful without a trace of makeup.

Touched so gently by Yan He, Lu Youqing trembled as if overwhelmed by the favor. Lowering her gaze to the slender fingers caressing the side of her face, she reached out to cover the back of Yan He’s hand, tilting her head slightly to rub obsessively against Yan He’s palm.

“Have you really forgiven me, A-He?” Her voice cracked with a sob.

“Of course. You are my fiancée—how could I have the heart to blame you?”

Yan He smiled softly, gazing into her eyes with a gentle expression that suggested she no longer cared about the past. Yet out of the corner of her eye, she kept paying attention to the window in the room.

She remembered that directly outside this window lay a patch of soft lawn. Even in winter, the vegetation there remained soft and lush; jumping down shouldn’t pose any danger.

The smile on Yan He’s lips deepened slightly as she looked down at Lu Youqing, her hazel eyes unreadable.

Right at that moment, a gust of wind blew in through the window, catching the curtains inside. Sunlight poured through the exterior metal bars, casting fragmented blocks of light across the floor.

Yan He’s eyes trembled violently, her soul shuddering to its core.

How could this be? When did Lu Youqing install window bars?

As the wind drifted in, rustling the hems of their dresses, Lu Youqing’s thin attire made her skin shiver against the chill. She shrank back into Yan He’s embrace, leaning longingly against her shoulder. Breathing in her scent provided a deep sense of security; wrapped in her warmth, Yan He’s previous words made her feel far less panicked.

Noticing the rigidity of the person in her arms, Lu Youqing lifted her eyes in confusion and caught Yan He staring out the window. She followed her gaze, spotting the metal bars outside as well.

As sharp as Lu Youqing was—having spent seven years with Yan He—a single glance was enough for her to read Yan He’s thoughts and intentions. Recognizing immediately what Yan He had [bailiantales.com]been planning, the faint color that had returned to her face drained into a stark white once more.

“A-He? Listen to me explain.” She quickly grabbed Yan He’s wrist, instinctively stopping Yan He from pushing her away, her expression turning frantic again.

It took a long moment for Yan He to recover from her shock. She knit her brows and looked at the lover lying beside her—someone she had held zero guard against—feeling a chilling terror creep up her spine.

“When was this done? Right after I lost my memory, or has it always been here, hidden from me simply because I hadn’t recovered my memories?” Yan He’s voice trembled, her breath coming out ice-cold as if she had fallen into a frozen lake. How could Lu Youqing be so thorough? They were truly a couple of seven years—so attuned to each other that their thoughts aligned perfectly.

Yan He suddenly laughed—a tearful, bitter laugh. Was she mocking herself, or someone else? Her eyes turned as cold as an ice cellar.

Lu Youqing was completely panicked. The fortress she had just constructed crumbled into ruins in an instant. She hurriedly wrapped her arms around Yan He’s shoulders, crying again in her desperation, repeatedly wiping the tears from Yan He’s cheeks.

“Don’t be like this, A-He. I beg you, don’t look at me like that.”

“Lu Youqing.” Yan He finally stopped laughing. Her back bent as if crushed under a heavy weight, enveloping her in a profound aura of desolation. That feeling pierced deep into Lu Youqing, terrifyingly familiar—it reminded her of the countless agonizing days and nights they had spent entangled in the past, a despairing existence for Lu Youqing.

Sensing what Yan He was about to say next, Lu Youqing panicked, completely at a loss for words. She could only hold her tightly in a futile effort, trembling as she begged her to stop, tears falling continuously like severed strings of pearls.

She wept so bitterly; anyone who saw her would feel an irresistible urge to pity her.

Yet Yan He’s heart felt as if it were being torn apart piece by piece. Looking at Lu Youqing’s pleading expression, she merely smiled—a smile both cruel and gentle—as she uttered the most heartbreaking, intolerable words to Lu Youqing:

“You are a lunatic. How could I ever fall in love with a lunatic like you?”

So much so that now, I can’t even get away.

Yan He was brought back to the bedroom by Lu Youqing. Calling it “brought back” was merely a helpless concession on Yan He’s part, knowing she couldn’t leave Lu Youqing anytime soon.

Yan He sat on the bed, staring blankly at the tightly drawn curtains. Lu Youqing had opened the closet and was doing something, the sound of her rummaging echoing through the room.

The room that had felt warm and cozy last night now radiated endless cold. Yan He looked up at the ceiling, recalling the suspicious trace she had noticed in the corner of the room earlier, suddenly realizing how it had gotten there.

It was probably left when Lu Youqing removed the mirror, Yan He thought. Taking a deep breath, she let out a long sigh. The dimness of the room acted like an invisible barrier compressing her breathing space; she felt slightly short of breath, though her heart remained as still as a stagnant pool.

“You really went through immense effort to keep me from remembering. Taking down such an expensive mirror just like that.” She lay back on the bed, gazing blankly while resting against the warm bedding. Catching sight of Lu Youqing crouching by the closet out of the corner of her eye, she let out a sarcastic smile that brought a strange sense of satisfaction, quietly waiting to see what Lu Youqing would do to her next.

Lu Youqing gathered the items from the closet and walked over. Only then did Yan He see that she was holding a set of fresh sleepwear.

“The clothes A-He was wearing got torn by me. Change into these first. Even with the heater on, it’s bound to be a bit cold.” Lu Youqing said, her breathing still uneven from crying. Paired with her disheveled dress, she looked all the more delicate and pitiable.

Yan He looked up at her, then down at her own clothes, realizing that a large tear had formed along the hem of her dress. No wonder she kept feeling cold.

Reaching out to take the clothes from her, Yan He glanced at Lu Youqing again. Seeing no sign that Lu Youqing intended to leave, she changed out of her clothes right in front of her without hesitation.

Gathering her long hair out from under the collar, she cast a faint stolen contentglance at Lu Youqing, who had been staring at her in silence, and spoke up.

“What’s next? Are you going to fasten that thing back around my ankle?” she asked with a smile, though the expression was painfully sharp.

Yan He’s voice sounded devoid of emotion, even carrying a hint of mockery, yet it caused Lu Youqing’s entire body to stiffen. The composure she had been trying to maintain was shattered by that single sentence. She leaned forward, virtually kneeling on the carpet, her dark eyes trembling in the dim room.

“No, A-He, please believe me! I won’t do that. Those things have already been thrown away by me. I will never do anything to make A-He angry again.” As she spoke, she reached out to hold Yan He’s hand, tightly intertwining their fingers, as if this physical touch were the only way to ensure Yan He wouldn’t slip away.

Yan He looked down at their joined hands, the sensation of Lu Youqing’s fingers against hers translating clearly into her mind. She let out a cold laugh and yanked her hand free from Lu Youqing’s grip.

“Stop lying. You’re just afraid of backfiring. Forcing me to be unable to leave you before—you seemed to enjoy doing that quite a bit.”

She extended a hand, her fingertips lightly lifting the chin of the stunned Lu Youqing, forcing her tearful face to look at her. With a smile, she said: “If you truly felt it was wrong, you wouldn’t just be standing here begging for my forgiveness. After telling so many lies, you’ve managed to deceive even yourself, haven’t you?”

Lu Youqing’s half-kneeling frame froze. Yan He’s mocking voice fell upon her ears without warning, tearing away the long-held facade like a sudden clap of thunder to expose the darkness beneath.

“No, that’s not it!” Lu Youqing frantically explained. Trembling, she embraced Yan He, desperate to seek warmth in her arms, only to find that Yan He’s embrace was just as cold, sending her into complete panic.

“A-He, listen to me explain! It’s not like that! I just want us both to calm down—just calm down first. We can talk after we’ve both settled down. Right now, I’m truly terrified that A-He will leave.”

Yan He allowed her to hold her quietly, listening patiently to her words. As she listened, she couldn’t help letting out a soft laugh.

“Lu Youqing, even now you don’t see any problem with what you’ve done. How am read the original at bailiantales.com I supposed to ‘calm down’? To you, anything short of compliance is ‘not being calm,’ isn’t it? Do you really think I’m still as easy to deceive as before?”

Yan He was perfectly calm—so calm that her entire body was shaking. She had not been calmer at any point over the past six months than she was right now.

The woman in her arms was soft, while Yan He’s own body remained rigid. Yet a profound sense of despair and pity welled up in her heart—pity for herself, and even more for Lu Youqing.

To exist on a lonely, despairing island, living merely for a tiny sliver of hope, clinging to a ray of sunlight so desperately that she had to grip it tightly—how insecure and utterly destitute must she be?

For a brief moment, Yan He wondered: if her past self hadn’t gone to that bridge and hadn’t met Lu Youqing, what kind of life would she be living now?

She couldn’t imagine it. One cannot conceptualize what lies outside their lived experience. Bound to Lu Youqing for seven years, every trace of her life bore Lu Youqing’s presence; she had long forgotten what a life without Lu Youqing even looked like.

“What am I to you, really?” Yan He lay back on the bed, held tightly in Lu Youqing’s arms, staring absently at the ceiling. Having recovered her memories, the absence of the mirror made her feel strangely unaccustomed—a testament to how quickly people adapt to their environments.

“My lover,” Lu Youqing murmured, burying her head against Yan He’s shoulder as she kissed her passionately, answering hurriedly upon hearing Yan He’s faint voice.

“Is that so? Really…”

Yan He let out a sudden laugh. A tear slipped from the corner of her eye, soaking into the soft bedding.

So this is what it means to be lovers?