Amnesia Trap (GL) - Chapter 56

The draft from the magazine arrived earlier than expected. After both Sheng Zhi and Ji Qingfan confirmed there were no issues, the release time was also moved up.

Soon, those rumors about their divorce would cease to exist.

However, perhaps because they were heading back, Sheng Zhi remembered something else she had overlooked—before coming to Nanrao, Xia Xiyan had messaged her asking if she had time.

It sounded like there was something specific, but Xia Xiyan hadn’t told her exactly what it was. Thinking she’d find out upon her return, Sheng Zhi hadn’t pressed for details. Coupled with the fact that Xia Xiyan hadn’t messaged her again, and the string of “accidents” between her and Ji Qingfan, Sheng Zhi only now found the mental space to think about it.

Now that it was back on her mind, she gave Xia Xiyan a call after getting off the plane.

“It’s nothing… it’s just that Wanyin and I both missed you a bit,” Xia Xiyan’s tone was unnatural, hesitant and stuttering, as if she were offering a vaguely fabricated excuse. “Really, it’s nothing. We just missed you. You haven’t hung out with us in so long.”

“Really nothing else?” Sheng Zhi listened to her tone; it was strange, not sounding quite like the truth.

She hadn’t had much contact with Jiang Wanyin these past few days either. Just as she was about to ask more, Sheng Zhi heard Jiang Wanyin’s voice on the other end—a slightly low, raspy sound: “There’s nothing else. We just missed you, that’s all.”

Sheng Zhi laughed. “I was just about to ask; so you two happen to be in the same place.”

“But why is your voice so raspy? Are you sick?”

The question fell into a two-second silence before Jiang Wanyin’s voice sounded again: “No.”

Immediately, Xia Xiyan took the phone back. Her tone was much better than the initial stiffness, returning to her usual banter: “So, you’re back? Then it would be unacceptable if you didn’t gather with us for a meal today.”

Sheng Zhi didn’t refuse the proposal. “Sure, I can come find you guys right now.”

“For real, My Lady? Giving us that much face? Didn’t you just step out of the airport?” Xia Xiyan responded with exaggerated surprise. “You better not be teasing us. Wanyin and I truly believe you.”

“I’m serious.” Sheng Zhi agreed on a location.

Although it was obvious that both Xia Xiyan and Jiang Wanyin were hiding something, Sheng Zhi trusted that, given their relationship, they had their own reasons for not saying it yet. Besides, it really had been a while since they all gathered.

The call ended, and she and Ji Qingfan walked to the exit to get into the car that had been waiting for them.

“Jiao Jiao, are you going to see them right now?”

Hearing Ji Qingfan’s voice, Sheng Zhi turned to meet her gaze. “Yes.”

At this, Ji Qingfan’s eyes seemed to dim instantly. “Then we can’t go home together… Let the driver drop you off first. Around what time will you guys be finished?”

“Not sure, depends on how it goes.” Sheng Zhi looked at her and suddenly realized she had almost no concept of who Ji Qingfan’s friends were.

She had never really thought about this aspect before. Did Ji Qingfan… have friends? She couldn’t recall. Whether it was because she had never paid attention to it, her mind was a complete blank regarding this; she had no impressions whatsoever.

Setting the past aside, during this recent period, Ji Qingfan didn’t seem to have had any contact with anyone who could be called a “friend.” After thinking for a while, Sheng Zhi recalled the tactic Ji Qingfan used to trick her—that absurd description of her “pre-amnesia” self being so possessive that she only wanted Ji Qingfan to look at her.

Back then, she was so shocked by the “Sheng Zhi” described by Ji Qingfan that she hadn’t noticed anything else. But thinking about it now, she really had never seen a single instance of Ji Qingfan interacting with a friend.

It didn’t seem like an illusion. Ji Qingfan truly didn’t seem to have friends she kept in touch with; her contacts were mostly for work and business dealings.

This sudden thought sparked a sense of curiosity. “Ji Qingfan, tell me about your friends too.”

The request was brief, but Ji Qingfan tilted her head slightly, seemingly puzzled as to why she had brought this up. But immediately after, she smiled at her. “Is Jiao Jiao curious?”

Though it was phrased as a question, it wasn’t one that expected an answer. Because she immediately followed up with her own explanation.

“There’s no need. Having Jiao Jiao is enough for me.”

As she answered, she kept her eyes on Sheng Zhi, smiling brightly. However, her tone was so lingering and intimate that it carried a sticky sense of wanting to envelop a person.

Sheng Zhi hadn’t expected such an answer.

…No need? What did “no need” mean?

It must be a lie, right? She speculated. Phrases like “having you is enough” were likely exaggerated descriptions meant to make her “amnesiac” self feel her “love” more intensely. Otherwise, it would be too…

Sheng Zhi swapped positions mentally and couldn’t imagine a situation where she had no friends. She liked gathering for meals and enjoyed the time spent with them. She had childhood best friends, soulmates she’d known for years, and companions with identical hobbies. These were friendships that didn’t need constant maintenance; they might not meet every day, but they missed each other when apart for too long.

If she didn’t have those… it was so terrible she didn’t even want to imagine it happening.

Even though she knew Ji Qingfan might be saying this on purpose, she couldn’t help but say, “That’s too much of an exaggeration.”

“Is it an exaggeration?” Her words seemed to baffle Ji Qingfan even more. “Having you is enough. As for everyone else, they are irrelevant existences.”

“But you are different from me. Although I’ve always wanted to be the only one by your side as well…”

Her voice grew softer and softer toward the end, like a murmur to herself—so quiet that Sheng Zhi couldn’t hear the last part at all. But even without hearing the end, she had heard enough of the beginning—phrases like “as long as I have you, others are irrelevant.”

Even though she knew in her heart that Ji Qingfan was 100% lying, this kind of lie made her feel more uneasy than the “I love you” or “I like you” ones. Consequently, Sheng Zhi instinctively spoke up to refute her: “This isn’t a multiple-choice question where you have to pick one and discard the other. The answers can coexist…”

She paused hesitantly. Ji Qingfan was looking at her with a gaze that was very tender, yet held an indescribable strangeness—it felt discordant. She paused for a long time. It was the kind of pause where it was obvious she had stopped before finishing her sentence.

Ji Qingfan looked at her deeply, her tone rising slightly. “Jiao Jiao, why did you stop?”

That sense of strangeness became more apparent. Yet, she couldn’t pinpoint exactly what was off.

Sheng Zhi belatedly realized that discussing this topic was essentially meaningless. Firstly, she and Ji Qingfan weren’t in a relationship of actual mutual love. Secondly, the things Ji Qingfan said were nothing more than lies. Arguing over lies was a waste of time.

She didn’t speak again, but Ji Qingfan continued.

“Jiao Jiao has forgotten, so you find it strange. I should have mentioned this to you before. In the past, you were very possessive of me. You didn’t like it when I gave my attention to others; you wanted me to look only at you…”

Hearing this familiar narrative, Sheng Zhi realized why Ji Qingfan had said those things earlier. She wasn’t just acting; she was constantly weaving a web of consistent details so that the Sheng Zhi who “forgot their past” would gradually believe the fabricated history and walk into it of her own accord.

But listening to the description, Sheng Zhi couldn’t help but interrupt: “The past is the past, and the present is the present. You know I don’t remember, so hearing you say this, my only feeling is that the person isn’t me.”

She couldn’t understand why Ji Qingfan insisted on molding her into such a paranoid, extreme figure. Was she planning to make her feel guilty once the “amnesiac” self believed it? It sounded suffocating. It had to be made up; after all, while possessiveness is normal, those with such extreme possessiveness in reality are a rare few.

Ji Qingfan seemed to catch something in her gaze and didn’t continue the topic. “Then give me the luggage, Jiao Jiao. I’ll drop it off at home on my way.”

Without waiting for Sheng Zhi’s reply, she naturally kissed her. It was more of a soft press than a kiss. Her lips touched her cheek very softly.

Not just her action, but her tone was equally soft and pure. Compared to the lingering, moist, and deep kisses they had shared over the past few days, this kiss felt very innocent, filled with a dense affection that made one’s heart soften.

Sheng Zhi processed this cheek-kiss for a moment before blinking and catching the main point. “I don’t think I ever said I’d move in with you.”

Even before, she had only stayed for a few nights. Why was Ji Qingfan using a tone that sounded as if they were already living together?

Thinking this, she asked her directly. Ji Qingfan didn’t explain. Instead, she followed her question: “Then, does Jiao Jiao want to live with me?”

Sheng Zhi was stuck. She had thrown out a question, only to end up trapped by it herself. In her mind, she couldn’t help but visualize the two of them living together.

…If she had known, she wouldn’t have asked.

She was left hanging—not answering felt wrong, and answering felt wrong too. And asking back wouldn’t stump Ji Qingfan, because Ji Qingfan would definitely use a tone soaked in love to tell her she wanted to live with her, that she wanted it very much.

But Sheng Zhi couldn’t be as direct as Ji Qingfan. She couldn’t get past the hurdle in her own heart. Especially knowing that much of Ji Qingfan’s affection was performance and disguise, she was even more resistant to the genuine emotions she was feeling herself.

One side was fake, the other was real. The real side would surely get hurt. This subconscious scale made her very uneasy.

Sheng Zhi unconsciously bit her lip. She had been doing this more and more frequently lately.

Just then, Ji Qingfan spoke: “Jiao Jiao, I want to live with you.”

Her tone was exceptionally soft: “I want to live with you every day. I want to watch you fall asleep, and I want the first thing I see when I open my eyes to be you.”

“Promise me, okay?”

The requests layered one on top of the other, like acting spoiled. Hearing her voice, Sheng Zhi broke free from her messy thoughts.

“…You really are persistent,” she said, giving her a glance with the corners of her eyes tilted up, looking like she had no choice but to give in. “Fine, I promise.”