Amnesia Trap (GL) - Chapter 62

Bubbles filled the surface of the water, a soft fragrance floating and diffusing through the air.

Their pressed-together skin became slick and supple from the soapy water, so smooth that it was almost impossible to tell where one ended and the other began. Even though they had just come from the same bed, this act became excessively lingering. Every inch, every spot—she washed her as if she were touching herself.

The word “ambiguity” was crushed and kneaded into their breathing, unavoidable.

By the end of the bath, she felt as though she were truly melting. Ji Qingfan squinted her eyes and went limp in her arms, her lips resting near Sheng Zhi’s neck and shoulder, her warm, slow breath brushing against her, nuzzling and pressing every so often. It was too light, too soft; it tickled. But it wasn’t the kind of itch that stayed on the surface and could be easily quelled.

Sheng Zhi looked at Ji Qingfan’s dazed state. A thought rose and was promptly pushed back.

Best to wash quickly and finish this—

Ji Qingfan’s stamina was truly poor… perhaps related to her naturally weak constitution. That was why Sheng Zhi had fed her candy earlier; she was afraid she’d lose too much energy and get dizzy in a hot bath.

But even so, the sensation at her neck gradually lightened. Noticing that Ji Qingfan had entered a light sleep, Sheng Zhi held her breath for a moment. The entire bathroom fell exceptionally silent. The person in her arms had her eyes closed, her sleeping face equally tranquil.

Is she really asleep?

She studied her for a moment, trying to be sure. It didn’t seem like faked sleep. The held breath slowly released, but her gaze—fixed there to confirm the sleep—couldn’t move away.

Sheng Zhi’s eyes traveled from the wet stray hairs on her forehead, sliding bit by bit over her features. Her lashes were long and thick, as dark as her hair; closed like this, they almost cast a shadow.

Like a Sleeping Beauty, she thought involuntarily.

Immediately after the thought, she felt uncomfortable, an awkwardness that made her want to frown. The bathroom lights were a bit too bright. She didn’t know why she was currently tracing her features as if sketching a portrait. The bath was done; she should wake her up, not stare at her inexplicably and call her “Sleeping Beauty” in her head.

Heavens, Sleeping Beauty… Sheng Zhi frowned in genuine distress.

But clear as she was about the situation, she couldn’t pull her gaze back. Ji Qingfan’s looks were actually quite cold; she wasn’t the type who looked approachable or friendly. On the contrary, a first glance usually created a psychological sense of distance. Yet, when she curved her eyes and smiled, those eyes became exceptionally affectionate, dissolving that aloofness.

Sheng Zhi couldn’t help but think that she might no longer be used to Ji Qingfan looking at her with indifference, even though that was the real Ji Qingfan. As she thought this, her gaze drifted aimlessly to her lips.

Her lips were very soft. Although they were usually telling lies, they were very warm when kissing. As she watched, her hand unconsciously and gently caressed her cheek. The pressure was so light it was as if she were touching fragile glassware.

Before Sheng Zhi could figure out what she intended to do, Ji Qingfan’s lashes fluttered and she opened her eyes. They were so close that every sense was magnified. She watched those eyes transition from hazy to clear, as slowly as a flower blooming petal by petal. In that moment of eye contact, it felt as if all the flowers of spring had blossomed in that intersection.

Thump—

Her fingertips flew away from Ji Qingfan’s cheek. Sheng Zhi felt a sudden, inexplicable surge of panic.

“…Did I fall asleep?” she heard Ji Qingfan’s uncertain voice whisper in her ear.

Thump, thump—

Her heart was racing.

Amidst the chaotic rhythm of her heart, Sheng Zhi heard her own voice responding with feigned calmness. She said, “Yes. I was just about to wake you up.” After the words fell, Sheng Zhi looked away and added a huff: “Falling asleep just from taking a bath.”

Though she looked away, she kept a watch with her peripheral vision. The short nap had worked; Ji Qingfan looked much better, and something else seemed to have woken up with her. Her body, warmed by the hot water, exuded a tender aura, like the waters of a disturbed spring lake. The corners of her eyes held a specific, sated, and lingering quality.

However, upon hearing the words, a slight look of chagrin crossed her face: “What a waste, to have actually fallen asleep.”

A waste?

Waste corresponds to treasure…

Just as her reading comprehension began, Sheng Zhi cut off the line of thought. What “treasure” or “cherish”? Ji Qingfan couldn’t possibly be chagrined because she cherished the intimate time spent with her.

Even though if she asked, Ji Qingfan’s rhetoric would definitely be about “treasuring every second with her” and “wishing time would slow down,” she was just sweet-talking. She didn’t have her in her heart. Saying “what a waste” was likely just because she missed an opportunity to perform.

…Perhaps Ji Qingfan was just waiting for her to ask what was a waste, so she could spout more flowery words. If that were the case, she could keep waiting. She wasn’t going to ask.

Sheng Zhi half-carried her out of the tub. “Soaking any longer would be the real waste.”

The chagrin on Ji Qingfan’s face faded with the movement. Sheng Zhi was only half-holding her up, but she took the opportunity to embrace her even more tightly. This wasn’t a standard hug; it felt like a restraint, like climbing vines: “Jiao Jiao, are you tired? Next time, I’ll help wash you too.”

She held her too tightly. Compared to the skin-to-skin contact in the tub, this was even more unbearable. Sheng Zhi’s ears grew hot from the embrace; she simply grabbed a bath towel and wrapped her up tightly to dry the water droplets, interrupting: “Save that energy for yourself. I’m not looking after you if you catch a cold tomorrow.”

Her tone was fierce, but Ji Qingfan wasn’t stung by it at all. Her gaze remained feverishly fixed on her. She was very much like a submissive pet—clingy, nuzzling, proactively nudging your hand, wagging its tail now and then, its eyes always full of affection.

The bed in the previous bedroom was too damp to sleep in, so they had to switch. The bed in the new room was soft and dry, feeling slightly cool as they lay down. But the moment the room fell into darkness, that slight chill was dispelled by the person embracing her. The person holding her was soft and warm; before embracing her, she had very carefully gathered Sheng Zhi’s scattered long hair so as not to trap it.

Sheng Zhi closed her eyes, letting Ji Qingfan approach. After holding her like this for a while, the entire quilt was filled with a warm fragrance, inducing drowsiness.

As she was drifting off, she felt her earlobe being licked with the gentleness of a small animal drinking water.

“Jiao Jiao, are you asleep?” Ji Qingfan whispered as she nuzzled into the crook of her neck, breathing softly and contentedly. “Your waist is so thin, so sexy. Next time, can I watch you? I didn’t get to see you properly this time.”

Her movements were small, and her volume was even softer—a tiny whisper like a lullaby. Sheng Zhi, overwhelmed by sleepiness, gave a casual “Mhm.” Because of her response, Ji Qingfan’s breathing rhythm changed for a moment, but she quickly controlled it, continuing to speak with a strange allure, seemingly trying to coax more promises out of her: “Then next time, I want to hear Jiao Jiao call me ‘Sister’ again…”

A damp sensation came from the skin of her neck.

Before falling asleep, Sheng Zhi could still feel her sticky touches—nuzzling here, pressing there. She clung to her all night like a shadow. Consequently, when she woke up the next day, her body felt faintly numb.

The curtains were tightly drawn. The daylight was hazy, unable to pierce the gloom of the room.

…What time is it?

Sheng Zhi fluttered her lashes. She didn’t find her phone, but she found the warm softness in her arms—the root of her numbness. Ji Qingfan was holding her firmly. Her superior waist-to-hip ratio became even more apparent in this posture, possessing a certain decadent quality in the dim light that made her face flush. Her hair was the same—tangled and winding, some on Sheng Zhi’s skin, some intertwined with her own long hair.

With just a slight movement, the embrace tightened instantly, as if the person holding her was afraid she’d run away.

Sheng Zhi couldn’t help but say: “Ji Qingfan.”

The person she woke up let out a low moan, still hazy from sleep: “Hmm? Oh, good morning, Jiao Jiao.”

Compared to her, Sheng Zhi’s tone was much more awake: “Let go of me before you say good morning.”

Only then did Ji Qingfan react and loosen her grip, though she didn’t let go entirely. Her cheeks were slightly red. “I seemed to be holding too tight… Sorry, Jiao Jiao, did you not sleep well last night?”

Did I not sleep well?

Sheng Zhi froze at the question. Being held so tightly that her body was numb, logically, she shouldn’t have slept soundly; it should have been uncomfortable. But the contradiction was that not only had she slept well, she had slept exceptionally well, without even a single dream.

Her expression shifted. Sheng Zhi didn’t want to admit it frankly—admitting it would be too weird—so she habitually used a different tone: “Duh. Who could sleep well being squeezed like that?”

Ji Qingfan’s apology grew deeper: “Then Jiao Jiao can hold me back next time, since I didn’t let you sleep well.”

Hearing this, Sheng Zhi was about to agree when she sensed something was off and stopped: “No need.”

Almost fell for it.

She pulled away Ji Qingfan’s hand, smoothed the hem of her nightgown, and checked the time on her phone. It was surprisingly early, early enough to sleep a bit longer. She relaxed back down. “It’s too early. Sleep more.”

Ji Qingfan checked the time with her but got up anyway.

“You’re not sleeping?” The space beside her was suddenly empty. Sheng Zhi instinctively wanted to pull her back, her hand even lifting before she forced it back down.

Ji Qingfan was tucking her hair behind her ear. Hearing her, she smiled with curved eyes: “It’s okay. Jiao Jiao, sleep a bit longer. I’ll go tidy up and prepare some breakfast.”

“…Oh,” Sheng Zhi lay back down, pulling the quilt over her head, leaving only the top of her hair visible. Her voice was muffled through the blanket. “Don’t sleep then, suit yourself.”

Ji Qingfan reached out and ruffled the top of her head before going to wash up. Sheng Zhi remained motionless under the quilt, acting as if she felt nothing. After being covered like this for a few minutes, she didn’t want to lie there anymore.

Every position felt awkward; nothing felt right. Even though the light and the atmosphere were the same as before, even though the bedding hadn’t changed, she just couldn’t fall asleep. Perhaps something was missing—for example, the person who usually lay beside her wasn’t there.

The double bed was large. Sheng Zhi rolled over from her side to the side where Ji Qingfan had slept, her cheek rubbing against Ji Qingfan’s pillow. They had showered together yesterday and used the same fragrance, but for some reason, Ji Qingfan’s side smelled better.

How strange.

She thought this as she unconsciously rubbed her cheek against it again, then suddenly stiffened.

Wait… what am I doing with these weird actions again?

Sheng Zhi sat up abruptly, only breathing a sigh of relief when she realized she was alone in the bedroom. But her plan to sleep more was officially ruined. She couldn’t sleep another wink.

She got out of bed irritably. Her mood froze when she saw the deep and light crimson marks spreading from her neck to her shoulder in the mirror. Her brain went boom; for a moment, she couldn’t even process it.

She’d had a vague sensation before falling asleep last night, but she was too tired and let Ji Qingfan be. Looking at it now, it was simply… as if she were being marked. Looking at it made her chest feel hot.

Am I her property? To bite so many times, she’s definitely doing it to vent. This was a bit… too much, wasn’t it? There wasn’t a single “clean” spot in sight.

Sheng Zhi washed up and changed her nightgown, forced to wear a small turtleneck to hide the excessive marks. When she went downstairs, Ji Qingfan was bringing the prepared breakfast to the table. She hadn’t taken off her pale apron yet, and her long hair was loosely tied back, giving her an indescribable gentleness.

Hearing her come down, she looked over. Her skin was porcelain white, her lips a light red, and she was smiling—like a painting from a master’s brush. “Jiao Jiao, you’re down. I was just about to go call you after setting the table.” As she spoke, she untied her apron.

Thin wisps of steam rose from the breakfast on the bright table, diffusing a fresh aroma. Sheng Zhi hadn’t expected her to prepare such an exquisite spread just for “breakfast.” She blinked and bit her lip. The words she wanted to say were stuck because of this tender scene. She slowly sat at the table, trying her best to ignore the tingling, numb palpitation in her heart.

Ji Qingfan took off her apron. Her attire now was perfectly proper and well-dressed. Sheng Zhi looked at her, then thought of the dense marks under her own collar. For the next few days, she’d have to cover up. She hadn’t even bitten Ji Qingfan like that.

Dressed like a human, but… she’s practically a dog. Next time, she was definitely biting back.

Monday began with the usual weekly meeting.

The management of various departments gave reports. Some people noticed that Ji Qingfan was still the one giving the concluding remarks, and their expressions shifted slightly, but the ripples were quickly suppressed. Once the work for the week was assigned, the meeting adjourned.

Time flew by when she was busy. Near closing time, people from a financial magazine came to find Ji Qingfan for a cover shoot.

“It might take over an hour. Jiao Jiao, wait for me.”

Even though she knew that sweet, seductive manner was just a mask Ji Qingfan wore for her, Sheng Zhi still spaced out as she watched Ji Qingfan stand before the camera. She just stood there, her gaze cool and aloof, her temperament outstanding and restrained. Her profile even looked somewhat heartlessly cold and thin, as if separated from everything by a layer of distance.

What a contrast.

It was only when a notification sound came from her phone that Sheng Zhi snapped back to reality. She looked at the screen, and her gaze paused when she saw the message was from Jiang Wanyin. The message wasn’t long, just one sentence in her usual pre-incident tone: [Finished work? I’m near your company.]

She had been thinking about when to message Jiang Wanyin; she hadn’t expected Jiang Wanyin’s message to come first. Sheng Zhi tapped the screen twice and looked toward Ji Qingfan.

—Still filming.

She thought about it and decided to go talk to Jiang Wanyin face-to-face first. It would only be a few words; it shouldn’t take too long. She’d be back before Ji Qingfan finished the shoot. And this matter… she hadn’t planned on telling Ji Qingfan anyway. She had no intention of ever telling her; Ji Qingfan wouldn’t know.

At this thought, Sheng Zhi withdrew her gaze from Ji Qingfan.

This area was the most prosperous district. The address Jiang Wanyin sent her was a nearby café. Unlike the last time, Jiang Wanyin’s expression was light when she saw her, and she didn’t bring up the matter Sheng Zhi wanted to discuss.

“The weather is quite nice today, sunny. But the temperature has been rising fast lately; it got hot out of nowhere.”

The coffee in front of her was her favorite flavor, and beautiful, exquisite desserts were on the table. Jiang Wanyin looked at her and suddenly said, “Zhi Zhi, do you remember when we were in school? When the weather got hot, you could eat five or six ice creams a day. Then one time you got sick from it; you were on an IV in the middle of the night calling me, swearing you’d never touch another one…” At this point, she couldn’t help but laugh. “But as soon as you got better, you kept eating them.”

“Of course I remember,” Sheng Zhi nodded and laughed too. “Even if I went back to that day now, I’d probably still eat those ice creams.”

“The past was so good. Time goes by too fast. I used to always want to grow up quickly, but in a flash, now we’re…” Jiang Wanyin’s voice trailed off as she lowered her eyes.

Sheng Zhi didn’t listen further. She pursed her lips and said, “You know we shouldn’t be here to reminisce about the past today.”

Jiang Wanyin looked up. For a moment, she couldn’t hide her expression, but she quickly adjusted, putting on a relaxed smile again, though her voice trembled slightly: “Can we talk later? At least finish the coffee… the desserts here suit your taste too, Zhi Zhi. Don’t you want to try them?”

Music played in the café, a slow instrumental flowing in their ears. Sheng Zhi didn’t answer immediately. She checked the time and estimated there was still half an hour before Ji Qingfan’s shoot finished, but she still didn’t agree to Jiang Wanyin’s request.

“I don’t plan on trying them,” she said.

At her answer, Jiang Wanyin’s lashes shook. She slowly adjusted her breathing, every word a struggle: “I regret always wishing to grow up. Now I want to go back, but I can’t… Zhi Zhi, if I keep waiting for you, will there be a day you turn around to find me?”

Sheng Zhi met her gaze. “But besides racing, you have things you truly like…”

Jiang Wanyin suddenly interrupted: “Is Ji Qingfan really that good?”

Seeing the conversation loop back to Ji Qingfan again, Sheng Zhi paused for a second before continuing: “This has nothing to do with her. It’s just that I only see you as a friend. Besides, before, I was going to be engaged to Yun Xian, and you weren’t like this about him.”

Jiang Wanyin’s lips parted, not knowing what to say. How could she say it—that she knew Yun Xian didn’t like her, that she knew Yun Xian was planning to flee the wedding? Or that it was because Ji Qingfan’s feelings for her were real, so she was scared and panicking?

The air fell silent for a moment. Jiang Wanyin finally only said: “You know Ji Qingfan doesn’t like you. She just schemes too much.” As she spoke, she noticed Sheng Zhi’s expression and gave a dejected, hollow laugh. “Forget it.”

She gave her a deep look, stood up, and called her name once more: “Zhi Zhi, can we have one last hug?”

“Just a hug between friends, nothing else. After all… we probably won’t be seeing much of each other in the future.”