A few minutes later, the doctor on duty arrived. After asking about Yu Yingying’s condition, he confirmed that her memory loss was caused by a heavy blow to the head. The missing memories spanned from after the college entrance exam up to now—about two years.
Yu Yingying also learned that she had been knocked unconscious while trying to act bravely and help someone, then left at the mouth of an alley. It just so happened that Jiang He drove by and brought her to the hospital.
The doctor on duty instructed Jiang He, “Your girlfriend will frequently experience dizziness and headaches during this period. You need to pay close attention and make sure she doesn’t fall. Another fall wouldn’t be a joke.”
Jiang He let out a “heh” and couldn’t even be bothered to explain anymore.
He was numb.
Of course, there was no need to explain now anyway—after all, Yu Yingying had lost her memory.
Did they think he had pretended to be her boyfriend in front of others? If their ages weren’t so obviously mismatched, he’d dare say he was her grandfather!
After the doctor left, Jiang He turned his head and looked over.
Yu Yingying sat on the hospital bed with a pale little face, holding a small old-style phone with a silver casing whose paint had chipped. She was trying to turn it on.
She was probably hoping to recover some memories through the information on the phone. But the phone was likely broken—its screen was shattered into pieces and showed no response.
Jiang He’s peach-blossom eyes swept over it. He clicked his tongue and mocked her out of habit. “Tsk. You’re still using this kind of trash?”
“You’ve never seen it?” Yu Yingying didn’t know why, but she couldn’t help poking back at him. “You’re my boyfriend—don’t you know I use this kind of trash?”
B-boyfriend?
“Do I look like your boyfriend?” Jiang He shot back.
“Aren’t you?” Yu Yingying asked in return.
They locked eyes for a second.
Seeing the faint trace of expectation in Yu Yingying’s eyes, Jiang He suddenly didn’t want to let her have it easy. He gave a dry laugh, the blade finally revealed. “Guess!”
Yu Yingying: “……”
Her head spun.
Probably from anger.
She endured it and lowered her head to fiddle with the phone again.
Jiang He added, “…What I mean is, I gave you a phone before. Why aren’t you using it?”
Yu Yingying was surprised. “You gave me a phone, and I accepted it?”
Jiang He wanted to “heh” again.
Back in freshman year, she’d been using an even worse blue-screen phone—some ancient relic that looked like it had been dug out of a trash can. When he walked past her desk, the corner of his jacket knocked her phone to the ground and broke it.
Coincidentally, he had the latest phone model in his backpack—a birthday gift he’d pulled some strings to buy for his sister. He took it out and handed it to her as compensation.
Who knew she wouldn’t accept it, insisting that he fix that broken piece of junk instead.
Wasn’t that just looking for trouble?
He was in a hurry and lost his patience, tossed the phone down casually, and left without looking back.
That was the first time they’d formed a grudge.
“Whatever I give you belongs to you. Why are you asking me?” Jiang He snapped impatiently.
Yu Yingying really tried to think about it, but the moment she did, her head started aching and spinning badly. She rubbed her temples tiredly and said, “…I don’t remember.”
Usually aloof and cool, her voice now sounded fragile, like a dragonfly’s wings—thin, translucent, as if they would shatter with the slightest pull.
As if she couldn’t bear even a little more.
Jiang He dropped his crossed arms and said gruffly, “If you don’t remember, then don’t think about it. Save your brain from breaking and actually turning you into an idiot.”
But his expression was still sour. He glanced at her and then asked irritably, “So you don’t remember calling me a ‘dog bastard’ either?”
“What?” Yu Yingying was momentarily stunned. She shook her head. “Impossible. My grandma doesn’t let me use foul language. I never say things like that.”
Jiang He smiled dangerously. “Heh. Is that so? If it wasn’t an insult, then was it a term of endearment?”
She hadn’t just called him a dog bastard—she’d slapped him and told him to get lost. To this day, he still didn’t know why!
Yu Yingying: “…A term of endearment?”
Her head suddenly twinged with pain. A coquettish laugh abruptly rang in her ears.
“Yingying, you don’t know? A ‘stud butt’ and a ‘dog waist’ are standard boyfriend equipment, sis.”
“Dog waist?” Yu Yingying murmured unconsciously.
“Pfft—cough, cough, cough, cough—”
A burst of violent coughing suddenly rang out.
Yu Yingying looked over. It was Jiang He.
The tall boy was sitting on a small chair that didn’t quite match his size, bent over with his head down, coughing so hard he was nearly out of breath, his face turning red.
She was just about to ask, “What’s wrong?” when her stomach let out two “gurgle” sounds.
Then she saw Jiang He spring up like a police dog that had received a command, stiffly throwing out, “I’ll go get you something to eat,” before sweeping out of the ward like a gust of wind.
Yu Yingying: “…?”
After waking up, she really had felt deep disbelief.
After all, Jiang He’s looks didn’t match her aesthetic. His temper was arrogant, he had no patience, always wore a sour expression, and looked like the type with well-developed limbs and not much going on upstairs.
But…
Even though he was angry at her for calling him names, he still cared about her body, afraid she’d go hungry—more nervous than she herself was.
That kind of instinctive reaction couldn’t be faked.
So it should be… um…
It probably was true, right?