"I'm—"
Zhi Han's voice caught.
The word lodged painfully in her throat, as if an invisible hand had closed around it. No sound came out. Not a single syllable.
Her breath stuttered.
No… why...
Xin Ying noticed immediately. "Are you okay?" she asked, worry flashing across her face. "You look pale."
Zhi Han forced herself to breathe, her fingers curling slightly at her side.
"I'm fine," she said at last, the pressure easing just enough to let the lie through. "Just… could I have your contact number?"
Xin Ying blinked, surprised—then smiled. "Sure."
They exchanged numbers. Simple. Ordinary.
Yet Zhi Han stared at Xin Ying's name on her phone as if it were something sacred.
"Let me pay for your meal," Zhi Han said firmly. "As a thank you."
"Oh, you don't have to—"
"I insist."
Xin Ying laughed softly. "Alright then."
Outside the restaurant, the city lights glowed warmly. Zhi Han gestured toward her car.
"I can drive you home."
Xin Ying shook her head. "My apartment's nearby. I'll walk."
"…Then take care," Zhi Han said quietly.
"You too."
They parted ways, neither looking back—both hearts heavier than they appeared.
That night, Xin Ying lay on her bed, scrolling through her phone.
A notification popped up.
Zhi Han: Did you get home safely?
Xin Ying smiled faintly and replied.
Xin Ying: Yes, I did. Thank you for asking.
She set her phone down, staring at the ceiling.
Why did she say "I finally found you"…?
And what was she trying to say before?
The thoughts tangled in her mind, slipping just out of reach.
Exhaustion claimed her before answers could.
---
Across the city, Zhi Han's mansion was quiet and vast.
She sat in the living room with Li Yuetong and her wife, the soft glow of the chandelier reflecting off polished floors.
"So," Li Yuetong said carefully, "you finally found her?"
Zhi Han nodded. "Yeah… after all this time. I finally found her."
Her hands tightened around her teacup.
"She saved me again," Zhi Han continued. "From Ling Zhihao."
Li Yuetong's wife gasped. "Oh my god…"
"But Xin Ying is seven years older than me," Zhi Han added quietly.
Li Yuetong shrugged. "That's a big age difference… but it'll be fine. You just have to tell her who you really are."
Zhi Han shook her head slowly.
"I tried," she said. "But when I wanted to tell her, something stopped me. Just like back then—when Xin Ying tried to tell us the truth and coughed up blood."
Silence fell.
Li Yuetong frowned. "Then the rule followed us here too…"
"I think," Zhi Han said softly, "she can't remember anything."
Li Yuetong's wife exchanged a glance with her.
"Oh…"
Li Yuetong leaned back, thoughtful. "Then don't tell her directly. Give her hints. Let her remember on her own."
Zhi Han looked down at her phone, Xin Ying's name glowing softly on the screen.
"…I'll wait," she said.
"No matter how long it takes."
Outside the window, the city lights shimmered like distant stars.
And somewhere between memory and fate, the past stirred—waiting to be remembered.
---
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