Amnesia Trap (GL) - Chapter 70

It wasn’t as she had thought—a case of “acting leading to real feelings” due to recent events—it was… a long-standing love, a love that had lasted for many years.

How could it be possible?

She was so shocked that only one thought kept repeating in her mind: How is this possible?

It wasn’t just dizziness anymore. This feeling was so surreal it was beyond words. Sheng Zhi stood there dazed, staring at Ji Qingfan, maintaining that single posture until she finally snapped out of it and accidentally pressed the screen button, turning it off.

The best-case scenario she had previously imagined was that “fake acting” story, or perhaps that Ji Qingfan had some genuine feelings for her, but only a little, not much. Those were the “good” thoughts; as for the outcomes that weren’t so great, she had thought of many more.

Her original plan for tonight was to just accept it—even if Ji Qingfan had no affection for her and only sought to deceive and utilize her, she would have accepted it.

But the current situation was something she had never even dared to conceive.

How to describe it? It was as if you originally hoped for a tiny bit of sweetness, only to find yourself plunged into a giant honey jar, soaked through, dizzy with sweetness. Or like standing under a tree, just reaching out to try and pluck a single fruit, only to have the tree’s entire harvest rain down upon you.

…It was unimaginable, yet it was undeniably, truly happening.

Sheng Zhi suddenly took a deep, sharp breath. The corners of her eyes were tinged with red—from holding it in, from excitement, and from a different kind of sour, aching emotion spreading through her heart.

Ji Qingfan must have felt so aggrieved during this time…

She probably overthought things just as much as Sheng Zhi did.

Sheng Zhi truly didn’t realize… if she had known about this love a bit earlier…

But at that thought, her mind paused. Actually, Ji Qingfan had been expressing her love all along, but Sheng Zhi had been prejudiced, viewing everything as deception and lies, speculating that it was all a means to an end.

The more she realized this, the more that sour ache in her chest surged. She couldn’t even imagine what Ji Qingfan must have been feeling lately.

Since she had accidentally turned off the screen, Sheng Zhi didn’t try to unlock it again. She traced Ji Qingfan’s features with her eyes and decided to carry her to the bed to rest first. Looking at her sleeping face… she didn’t want to wake her.

Sheng Zhi exerted every effort to make her movements light, sliding her arms underneath and lifting her gently. But despite her best efforts, Ji Qingfan seemed to stir slightly.

“I’m taking you to bed,” Sheng Zhi whispered, her voice as light as a falling feather.

The person in her arms didn’t fully wake up. Upon hearing the voice, she let out a dream-like, ambiguous, slightly coy moan. Her soft arms draped around Sheng Zhi’s neck, and her cheek brushed against Sheng Zhi’s skin in a tiny, nuzzling motion. Every movement carried a subconscious dependency and intimacy.

Sheng Zhi’s breath hitched. She felt as if that patch of skin was about to melt under the touch; the heart beating in her chest turned soft and mushy. She settled Ji Qingfan on the bed and tucked her in.

Yet, just like that night not long ago, she found herself completely devoid of sleepiness. Even though Ji Qingfan was right beside her, her face was all Sheng Zhi could see, whether her eyes were open or closed.

However, this time was different from the last. This time, her heart was gradually filled with a sense of peace and tranquility, as if a void had been perfectly filled.

She didn’t sleep, but she didn’t get up either.

After a whole night of holding each other, she thought she might be a bit more natural in the morning. But when she met Ji Qingfan’s eyes upon her waking up, Sheng Zhi instantly lost her composure. She was so flustered she barely dared to look her in the eye.

Then, she heard Ji Qingfan softly say good morning: “Jiao Jiao, good morning.”

“M-morning,” Sheng Zhi nearly tumbled as she sat up. “Are you thirsty?”

As soon as she asked, she felt annoyed with herself. If it were Ji Qingfan, she wouldn’t have asked; she would have already had it ready. Without waiting for an answer, she said, “I’ll go make some honey water.”

While making the honey water, she organized her words. Although she had seen the memo by accident, now that she had seen it, they should talk it out. There was no need to delay any longer.

More importantly… she bit her lip as a feeling of intense longing surged. She wanted to clear things up with Ji Qingfan quickly. She wanted to start this long-overdue honeymoon period of their marriage.

By the time they were both seated at the table for breakfast, Sheng Zhi finally had her words ready. She gathered her courage, her body feeling hot with nerves, and called out officially: “Ji Qingfan.”

Perhaps because she was too nervous, the words she had smoothly organized in her head got stuck the moment their eyes met.

“Um… yesterday I accidentally saw those things you wrote in your memo…”

Before she could finish, she was interrupted by Ji Qingfan’s trembling voice: “Jiao Jiao saw them?”

Sheng Zhi instinctively nodded. “Yes, I saw everything…”

Following her words, Ji Qingfan’s expression became incredibly uneasy. She lowered her eyes, but as if not wanting to show it, she quickly forced a smile. Yet it looked very humble, her lashes quivering. “Since you’ve seen it, I won’t hide it anymore.”

At this, she looked up again, looking as helpless and lowly as someone awaiting sentencing. “Yes, Zhi Zhi, I like you, I love you… At first, I didn’t know you were faking amnesia. I just thought it was a gift from heaven, a chance to be with you, so I lied and said we were very close…”

“Later, I discovered you weren’t actually amnesiac. I didn’t know why you kept the act up with me, but I truly grew more and more greedy. I…” As she spoke, she couldn’t continue, suddenly letting out a sob.

Sheng Zhi stood up, went to her side, and hugged her, her voice frantic: “I’m sorry. All this time I thought you were lying to me. I never thought it was real love… I’m sorry, I was too dense. I—I like you too.”

She spoke in a jumble, the words she had prepared long gone. Finally, not knowing what else to say, she simply closed her mouth, her face crimson, and kissed her lips.

Ji Qingfan acted as if she hadn’t expected this at all. It took a while for her to react, her tone sounding as if she were in a dream: “…Did I hear wrong? Jiao Jiao, really? You like me too?” Her fingers clutched Sheng Zhi’s clothes tightly.

“Really,” Sheng Zhi kissed her lips, then bit by bit kissed away her tears, the flush on her cheeks becoming more enchanting with her shyness. “Really, I like you, I love you. Don’t cry anymore, okay?”

Because of such a blunt confession, not just her face, but Sheng Zhi’s ears were completely red. She looked like someone truly moved by first love.

Hearing this, however, the tears on Ji Qingfan’s face became even more unstoppable. She let out a gasping sob, like someone who had finally unearthed a treasure, asking repeatedly: “Really? Really…?”

“Really,” Sheng Zhi responded patiently, no matter how many times she asked. But after a while, she truly couldn’t handle the embarrassment. Before Ji Qingfan could speak again, she kissed her once more.

They were entangled in a moist, lingering kiss, their soft bodies held tightly together. The person being kissed responded with a feverish devotion. A warmth kindled in her chest, and every heartbeat sent a thrum through her. She lingered at the curve of Ji Qingfan’s ear, soothing her with soft touches.

Her tear-wet eyes narrowed into a peach-blossom curve. Ji Qingfan held her, her neck arched in a trembling, total surrender. She whimpered and panted, calling her name repeatedly in a voice so seductive it was nearly dripping: “Mhm, mhm. Jiao Jiao, Zhi Zhi…”

“No more crying?” Sheng Zhi adjusted her breathing, her eyes also moist. “Is it really that making you this happy to hear me say I like you?”

She had been kissed until she was breathless, yet between gasps, she continued her confession, the affection on her face unmistakable: “Mhm, I’m just so happy, so incredibly happy. I’m so lucky… I really, really love you so much…”

“It feels like it would be worth it even to die this very second.”

Hearing this, Sheng Zhi gave her a light bite. “One second isn’t enough. We’re going to have many, many more. My present and my future—all of it is yours.” Sheng Zhi’s voice grew smaller toward the end, shy yet sincere.

Ji Qingfan gazed at her without blinking. “Actually, it was normal for Jiao Jiao not to believe me… after the terrible things I did in high school.”

Sheng Zhi had thought about those things, though she couldn’t quite figure them out. She hadn’t expected Ji Qingfan to bring it up directly. She didn’t interrupt, but listened quietly.

“I was too immature then. I wanted to be Jiao Jiao’s one and only. But there were so many people around you, and sometimes you wouldn’t reply to my messages. I was truly awful, getting jealous over every little thing. Then Yun Xian transferred in, and people said you two would get engaged… I’m sorry. I did so many things to make Jiao Jiao hate me, and even said I didn’t like you. I just wanted you to pay more attention to me, but those methods were just terrible…”

Her tone was filled with regret, as if she wished she could travel back in time.

It had been a long time, so Sheng Zhi thought back. Her memories of those events weren’t particularly deep; some might have been at the time, but most had faded into a vague outline. The strongest memory was Ji Qingfan saying she hated her; she had been so aggrieved and angry back then because she truly felt they were special to each other. She had put more effort into Ji Qingfan than anyone else, even more than Jiang Wanyin.

But thinking about it now, Ji Qingfan’s actions in high school—throwing away the love letters she received, preventing others from getting close, and alienating her friends—if viewed through the lens of jealousy, it truly did…

Wait, was she forgetting an important detail? Why did something feel slightly off?

But before she could think, Sheng Zhi heard Ji Qingfan apologize again, on the verge of tears: “Jiao Jiao, I don’t know what was wrong with me then. Thinking about it now, I was so annoying… will Jiao Jiao stop liking me because of those things?”

Sheng Zhi stopped her train of thought and comforted her: “No. The past is the past. If we’re being honest, I had even more problems in high school. All that matters is that we’re together now.”

If any of Sheng Zhi’s friends heard her now, they would be beyond shocked. Sheng Zhi was not the type to use such a soft, gentle tone filled with such protective tenderness to comfort someone.

“And I still have many things I don’t do well… but I’ll learn to change.”

“Jiao Jiao is the best.” Ji Qingfan pressed closer to her. Sheng Zhi’s tone is so gentle, so doting…

In an angle Sheng Zhi couldn’t see, the corners of Ji Qingfan’s lips curved upward in a faint, joyful smile. Everything was developing exactly as she had planned and envisioned. The memo and the confession were even more effective than she had imagined.

Ji Qingfan pulled back slightly, her gaze filled with an even more intense, cloying love than before. She pleaded: “Jiao Jiao, kiss me again.”

She had stopped crying. But her lashes remained wet as if with tears, and combined with her crimson, moist lips, she appeared incredibly fragile and enticingly broken.

Kisses seemed to never be enough; after just a few words, they were back to kissing again. It was almost like an addiction they couldn’t stop. This kiss lasted much longer. By the time they finally stopped, both were completely out of breath.

Sheng Zhi could feel from this kiss and Ji Qingfan’s lingering movements that she wanted more. But… they had to go to the company soon. Still, she couldn’t resist her plea. It was agonizing, yet utterly heart-stirring.

It’s fine. We have time. We can just be quick…

Sheng Zhi picked up a glass of soy milk and handed it to Ji Qingfan. “At least eat a little breakfast.”

Ji Qingfan hummed a response and took the glass. Sensing something in her tone, the flush on her face turned into a gentle concern: “Is Jiao Jiao not eating?”

“I’ll have a bit too.” As she spoke, Sheng Zhi gathered her long hair in front of her and knelt down.

Doing such a thing when she thought she wouldn’t respond made Ji Qingfan nearly drop the full glass of soy milk. Sheng Zhi kissed her. It was a soft, syrupy surrender—rich, lingering, and thorough. Fearing she might slip, Sheng Zhi’s hand on her tightened with a sense of restraint.

Forget drinking soy milk or eating breakfast; simply holding the glass and preventing the liquid from spilling took every ounce of Ji Qingfan’s energy. Her heart was tingling and numb. Even though she was sitting, she felt a sense of falling. Ji Qingfan looked down.

The bright early morning light danced over them. Sheng Zhi was bathed in the light, kissing her with an intensity that seemed surreal. Her body repeatedly tightened, relaxed, and tightened again.

“Jiao Jiao, I…”

“Don’t hold back,” Sheng Zhi’s voice was a bit muffled. “I’ll swallow it.”

She was a woman of her word. In the end, not a single drop was spilled on the floor.

…

Although she hadn’t slept at all that night, Sheng Zhi wasn’t sleepy during the day. After a busy morning of work, she still looked radiant, her lips crimson and her face glowing like a peach blossom. She looked to be in a wonderful mood.

However, despite not being sleepy, Ji Qingfan insisted she go sleep for a while in the lounge of the CEO’s office.

“Even if you can’t sleep, Jiao Jiao should close her eyes for a bit. You were up all night…” Ji Qingfan coaxed her.

Sheng Zhi grumbled, “If I’d known, I wouldn’t have told you I didn’t sleep.” Even so, when Ji Qingfan tucked her into the lounge bed, she could barely hide the smile on her lips. Sheng Zhi hadn’t intended to nap, but listening to Ji Qingfan’s soft, gentle whispers, she eventually drifted off.

The AC was on. She held the quilt, her eyes closed peacefully. Ji Qingfan pressed a light kiss on her hair and left the lounge.

She returned to her desk, opened a locked, hidden drawer, and took out an old notebook. Because so much had been recorded in it, the already bulky notebook felt even heavier.

Ji Qingfan opened the notebook. She had a habit of keeping a diary, but not in a memo app. The memo app didn’t contain her true diary. Compared to the content in the memo, the records in this notebook were real and feverish. The first few pages even contained several unsent love letters.

It doesn’t matter. Just like Zhi Zhi said, the past is the past.

So happy… so happy… so happy…

Ji Qingfan flipped past the pages with messy handwriting or where the pen had pressed hard enough to tear the paper. Humming a happy tune, her fingertip turned to a brand-new page. After recording her thoughts, she locked the notebook back in the drawer. Then, she opened her screen to look at the surveillance footage from the lounge.

The screen clearly displayed everything in the lounge. Honestly, when she sleeps, she looks just like a kitten. How can she be this cute?

She stared for a long while, her heart racing, her cheeks flushed with a deep crimson. As she watched, she couldn’t help but cup her face sweetly.

If only she could stay in there like that forever.

No one would know. No one would see.

Only she would know. Only she would see. Only she… would possess her.

Just the thought of it made her feel an unbearable happiness. But no—she couldn’t. She had to work harder at her act. Only then would Sheng Zhi keep loving her.

Ji Qingfan adjusted her breathing, turned off the surveillance screen, and returned to the lounge. Like two pieces fitting together perfectly, she embraced the sleeping woman with devotion, her lips curving into a smile of total satisfaction.