Amnesia Trap (GL) - Chapter 60

After she said “Don’t you dare say a word,” Ji Qingfan truly kept quiet, remaining silent all the way until they finished dinner.

The situation wasn’t exactly foreign. Sheng Zhi recalled a time before when she had said something similar to Ji Qingfan. That was when Ji Qingfan had asked for help applying body lotion, saying “Help me” in a voice so low and ambiguous. After Sheng Zhi told her to stop talking, Ji Qingfan had indeed shut up, but she had turned around and kissed her immediately. When questioned, she had looked perfectly innocent, claiming that since she was “muted,” she could only express her gratitude that way.

Recalling this, she glanced at Ji Qingfan, feeling a bit stifled.

…Ji Qingfan was being far too composed this time.

With such a perfect opportunity, shouldn’t she be doing something?

The moment that thought popped up, Sheng Zhi was startled by the faint stirrings in her own heart.

What is wrong with me? Why am I actually looking forward to it?

She hurriedly banished the dangerous thought from her mind.

However, when their eyes met, Ji Qingfan still only gave her a silent, gentle curve of the lips.

—Far too well-behaved.

Sheng Zhi grew even more unaccustomed to it. She thought something might be wrong with her; when Ji Qingfan spoke, she wanted her to shut up, but when she actually stayed quiet, Sheng Zhi wanted her to say something.

Her gaze swept over the other woman. She lifted her chin, huffed, and whispered: “Fine, you’re allowed to speak now.”

“Really?”

Almost the instant the words left her mouth, Ji Qingfan’s voice rang out. She blinked, her gaze as moving as ripples on water. “Is Jiao Jiao not shy anymore?”

The voice was soft, but Sheng Zhi’s breath hitched. She stiffened for an imperceptible second—

Great. I’ve officially diagnosed myself with a disease.

She wanted Ji Qingfan to shut up again.

She quickly suppressed that stiff expression. Sheng Zhi let out a laugh, though it certainly didn’t sound like a happy one: “Shy? You think I’m being shy?”

Her sweet voice carried a sense of arrogance through the drawn-out, rising lilt. “Ji Qingfan, are you dreaming before you’ve even gone to sleep?”

To appear more natural, she adjusted her posture, leaning lazily against the back of her chair as she spoke. Her tone was sharp and bristling, as if desperate to sting the other woman into silence.

Ji Qingfan stared straight at her. Although she could roughly guess Sheng Zhi’s reaction, this look and response were even cuter than she had imagined. After all, she already knew Sheng Zhi hadn’t forgotten her and was only faking amnesia; knowing this gave a different meaning to these behaviors and the things happening between them.

She wouldn’t expose her. At least, not until she was certain Sheng Zhi had fallen in love with her—that would be the perfect moment. For now, the actions of “reliving beautiful memories” and “helping her remember” still needed this amnesia as a cover. Even if Sheng Zhi accidentally slipped up and revealed her facade, Ji Qingfan would act as if she hadn’t noticed and help hide the slip-up.

So cute. So cute she wanted to laugh, but if she laughed now…

Sheng Zhi watched Ji Qingfan closely after speaking. Seeing a flicker of restrained emotion on Ji Qingfan’s face, her nerves gradually relaxed.

Ji Qingfan probably wouldn’t push the topic further.

Which meant her buying those few boxes of… probably wouldn’t be brought up either.

Ji Qingfan indeed didn’t continue the topic. After all, a cat that’s bristling is prone to stress; after a bit of teasing, it was time to smooth its fur.

She stood up, walked behind her, leaned down slightly, and rubbed her ear. Her voice and movements pressed close simultaneously: “But Jiao Jiao, we’ve been sitting here for so long. I’m tired of sitting. Shall we go up and rest?”

“Tired of sitting” was a blatant and obvious pretext.

Sheng Zhi was about to speak when she heard Ji Qingfan continue: “Then we can take a shower together, and sleep while holding each other…”

At this, the words Sheng Zhi intended to say took a sharp turn into something else: “Take a shower together?”

“Mhm,” Ji Qingfan’s breath brushed softly against the side of her neck. “Living together naturally means showering together and sleeping together, just like we used to. Perhaps it will even help Jiao Jiao recall some forgotten memories.”

Sheng Zhi couldn’t imagine herself showering with Ji Qingfan. Even though they had shared much more intimate contact than that, still…

“Let’s… forget about that.” Her brows furrowed.

Ji Qingfan seemed a bit disappointed, but her tone wasn’t forceful: “If Jiao Jiao doesn’t want to, then just sleeping together is fine too.”

Hearing this, Sheng Zhi instinctively nodded.

Compared to showering together, this was much easier to accept.

Ji Qingfan brought her a wine-red silk nightgown and lit her favorite scented candles in the bathroom.

When Sheng Zhi emerged from the bathroom, her whole body was relaxed, her eyes filled with comfortable contentment.

Until she saw Ji Qingfan.

Her relaxed posture vanished. She stopped in her tracks, staring at the scene before her, her mind momentarily blank.

“Ah… Jiao Jiao, you’re finished?”

The voice was familiar, the gentle smile was familiar, and even the outfit she was wearing and the folding fan she held were familiar.

—It was impossible for them to be foreign; she had watched the video Ji Qingfan recorded on her phone many, many times.

But what she saw before her was far more excessive than the video.

The impact was so great she nearly lost her ability to form a sentence.

“It was such a pity I couldn’t wear this for Jiao Jiao in person,” Ji Qingfan said. If one looked only at her face, one would think nothing else was happening; her expression was so serious it formed an extreme contrast with her attire. Her voice was slow and syrupy. “What couldn’t be seen in the video should be made up for in reality, shouldn’t it?”

Sheng Zhi listened to her voice, her heart racing pathetically—a sensation so vivid it made her want to tremble.

She suddenly recalled her reaction of flinching when Jiang Wanyin approached.

Yet now, she desperately wanted to get closer…

This is terrible.

Sheng Zhi stood rooted to the spot, trying to extinguish the irrational thoughts in her mind.

This level of blatant seduction was a prelude to something happening—not just a kiss or a peripheral touch, and certainly not an accidental situation. They were both sober now. Once she took an active step forward, the meaning would be different from everything that had happened before. And Ji Qingfan was waiting for her to take the lead.

She heard Ji Qingfan’s voice again, drifting like soft feathers: “If Jiao Jiao doesn’t like it, you can refuse.”

…Refuse?

Sheng Zhi’s fingertips curled.

She wanted to refuse.

Did Ji Qingfan think she didn’t want to refuse?

And what was Ji Qingfan thinking right now? Was she watching her fall into the trap and thinking with contempt that she was nothing special after all?

This realization made Sheng Zhi a bit angry, especially since she found herself completely unable to utter the word “no.”

She didn’t answer, and Ji Qingfan said nothing more, only maintaining that gaze. It was as if the moment she said “no,” Ji Qingfan would end all of this immediately.

A moment that felt both brief and eternal passed.

Sheng Zhi walked toward her.

Seeing that she still chose to approach, Ji Qingfan’s expression became heart-stoppingly beautiful. When they were but a step apart, she reached out and hugged her tightly. The damp ends of her hair felt slightly cool.

Joy surged in the depths of her pupils as she nuzzled Sheng Zhi’s lips lingeringly. Bit by bit, from the edges to the center.

Extremely clingy, extremely longing.

“Mhm, mhm… hold me tighter.”

Gentle and urgent, as if she couldn’t function without it.

Nuzzling her, she proactively opened her lips, pleading: “Jiao Jiao, put your tongue in, kiss me.”

In the intervals, she half-closed her eyes, murmuring in a daze: “I like you so much, I love you so much. It wouldn’t even matter if I died this very second. You’ll love me too, right…?”

She lingered in a sticky daze, her cheeks flushed with a drunken-like crimson.

Sheng Zhi watched her. Her foul mood hadn’t improved; it had only worsened along with the surge of excitement, much like her pounding heart.

“The title,” she pinned the other woman’s wrists together against the base of her spine, her tone and breathing shifting. “Don’t make me keep reminding you.”

She heard Ji Qingfan’s unreserved voice and thought what a contradictory liar she was.

Usually, her mouth was full of lies, yet at times like this, she always seemed exceptionally honest.

Every second of intimate contact with Ji Qingfan made the thought “she is different,” “she is special,” become clearer.

—It couldn’t be anyone else; it was only her.

She knew her schemes, her true nature, and knew… that her repeated declarations of love were all fake.

What did she love about her? Her status, her utility, the fame and fortune she could bring.

Pathetic. Truly pathetic.

She had made no progress compared to years ago. Years ago, she should have kicked Ji Qingfan out instead of going abroad herself.

So annoying… Ji Qingfan is so annoying.

Her mood grew darker and more malicious, and her behavior turned excessive accordingly. Sheng Zhi mocked her every reaction, seeking to balance this unequal situation.

The gauze she had been wearing ended up over her eyes, and that folding fan was used back on her.

When there was no reason for punishment, she created one—until things finally became so chaotic she began to miscount her numbers, and there was no need for more excuses.

The things they bought today were put to thorough use today.

Gradually, her hearing was almost entirely drowned out by Ji Qingfan’s voice.

Sheng Zhi couldn’t resist using her other hand to pull out the hairpin from Ji Qingfan’s hair to help her restrain those sounds. Without the pin, that long hair fell instantly like drifting clouds, like scattered flowers across a scroll.

Time seemed to hit a pause button, losing its distinction between fast and slow.

“Where is your skill?”

Sheng Zhi watched Ji Qingfan, who was so lost she could only emit single syllables. She ended the timer and reported a time with a smirk: “One minute and forty-seven seconds this time. How should I describe you—or is this the extent of your skill? Truly impressive.”

The gauze over Ji Qingfan’s eyes was nearly rubbed off. She bit the jade-white hairpin, the lily-of-the-valley tassels on it swaying.

“Going to cry again?”

Sheng Zhi pinched her neck. Because of her reaction, she again thought of things she had no right to think about.

Would Ji Qingfan be like this for anyone?

The emotions that had slightly calmed surged again. She delivered a merciless slap to the place that was trembling the most.

Her moist lips turned a deeper red.

The moisture splashed piteously.

She looked not in pain at all, accepting it with sheer bliss.

Sheng Zhi withdrew her hand, watching her tears soak through the thin gauze and fall. She offered a vengeful and mocking evaluation—

“Pathetic thing.”

The moment the hairpin was removed, tears fell in a chaotic stream. Ji Qingfan felt Sheng Zhi pinch her chin to turn her head. She opened her eyes, but because of the gauze, she couldn’t see anything clearly.

Vague silhouettes, flickering shadows.

She could barely hear what Sheng Zhi was saying now; she only caught the final “Smile for me” and “You’re not allowed to cry.”

The uncontrollable tears were still spreading.

She faced her, curving her lips in a hallucinatory, enchanting smile.