“…”
Gu Ye’s face was expressionless as Lin Wan clutched his arm. Her scalding tears dripped onto the back of his hand, yet even his brows didn’t twitch.
He was out of moves.
Not only had he failed to probe her background—he’d somehow ended up probing out a pile of crimes for himself instead.
Making things difficult for her? He couldn’t do it. A man who stands tall and upright…
How could words like that come out of his own mouth? Was that the kind of person he’d been before losing his memory?
Could it be true, like those people said—that he used to be some street-roaming loafer, flirting around, accomplishing nothing, living off smooth talk?
And this troublesome girl in front of him… was she someone he had sweet-talked into becoming his fiancée?
“You’re not saying anything. You must feel guilty,” Lin Wan accused.
Or maybe… he was just speechless.
Seeing her lips tremble and her eyes well up again—like a flood about to burst its dam—Gu Ye finally frowned, impatience flickering across his face.
He was done circling around. Done testing her.
“I lost my memory.”
His voice was calm, flat—yet the words hit like a boulder crashing into still water.
“I don’t know if I changed my heart. I just don’t remember anything.”
“…”
Lin Wan’s cry died before it could escape. It was as if someone had grabbed her throat and cut it off mid-sound.
Her face froze in a delicate expression of grievance and fragility. Her eyes widened, staring straight at him.
A little ridiculous.
Gu Ye almost laughed—barely restrained himself.
For once, he had regained control of the rhythm.
The room fell into a terrifying silence.
Lin Wan’s mind buzzed blankly.
All her acting. All her calculations. All her contingency plans.
Blown to ashes by those four casual words.
It felt like sleeping soundly at midnight, only for your husband to suddenly come home, stand by the bed, and calmly report, “I cheated.”
Flat. Direct. Fatal.
…Bro?
Is this what they mean by a straight man? No warm-up, no buffer—just dropping the ultimate bomb?
She hadn’t even finished standing on the moral high ground yet.
Lin Wan stood frozen, mouth opening slightly, but no words came out.
It was over.
How was she supposed to continue this play?
Gu Ye, unaware of her inner panic, assumed the news had simply stunned her. He kindly repeated:
“Did you hear me? I said I lost my memory.”
“Don’t talk about fiancée. I don’t even remember your name.”
Lin Wan: I heard you.
That’s perfect.
…
The silence lingered.
“No wonder…” she murmured, as if enlightened.
No wonder he’d been acting strange from the start. She couldn’t pinpoint what felt off—turns out everything was off.
A few seconds later, the shock and fragility on her face slowly transformed into something heavier.
“My name is Lin Wan. You used to call me…”
She stopped halfway.
“Forget it.”
The light in her eyes dimmed bit by bit. Her shoulders slumped.
“So… you really don’t remember me at all? Not even a little?”
Her clear eyes misted over, confused and wounded.
“Then the things you promised me… that you’d always treat me well, that you’d love me… none of that counts anymore, right?”
A flicker of irritation rose in Gu Ye’s chest at her abandoned expression.
Later, when he learned the so-called “truth,” he would wish he could travel back and slap himself twice for running his mouth.
But the current Gu Ye was still in full performance mode.
“That’s right. I don’t remember. And I don’t feel anything.”
There was almost a cruel honesty in his tone. Even a hint of triumph at exposing a lie.
He waited for her to collapse. To wail. To show her true colors.
Instead, Lin Wan stared blankly, as if she couldn’t process it.
After several seconds, she whispered faintly:
“Then… you won’t help me get revenge…”
“Revenge?”
How did they jump to that?
His slight smugness vanished instantly.
“Revenge on who?”
She lowered her head, silent. All the strength seemed drained from her body.
The quiet was more unsettling than tears. Strangely, Gu Ye found her crying easier to handle.
Was he losing his mind because of this woman?
Irritation spiked.
He stood up in one stride and grabbed her arm.
“Speak!”
The moment he pulled her to face him—
“Hiss—!”
A sharp intake of breath.
Real pain.
His grip loosened instinctively.
“What happened?”
Up close, in the quiet, he suddenly sensed something wrong beneath her thick bangs.
And only then did something click—
From the moment he saw her, she had been wearing oversized old clothes that covered her completely. She looked exhausted. Pale.
Wang Lei’s words resurfaced in his mind.
‘The girl’s not had it easy. Who knows how much she’s suffered.’
…
Come to think of it—
How could a young girl possibly travel alone, unharmed, to this remote black coal mine?
Not to mention the layered mountains and terrible roads.
He had been so focused on scrutinizing her identity and motives that he ignored the most basic fact.
Could it be that on the way…
His gaze sharpened. The earlier detached amusement vanished, replaced by tension he hadn’t consciously acknowledged.
Not because he cared deeply about this mysterious fiancée.
But because any man with moral boundaries—any soldier by instinct—would react this way.
“Lin Wan. Talk.”
He still held her arm.
“What exactly happened?”
She tried to pull away. Failed. Winced again.
“Nothing,” she muttered.
“Nothing?” he scoffed. “Then why are you dodging? Why does it hurt?”
His eyes swept over her.
“What’s with your head?”
She instinctively raised a hand to cover it—but he caught her wrist precisely.
“Don’t move.”
He leaned closer and lifted her heavy bangs.
A dried, vicious abrasion was revealed.
His eyes darkened.
Her lashes trembled as she shut them tightly.
“…How did you get this?” His voice lowered.
Silence.
“This wound. And your arm. How?”
Forced to look at him, her eyes reddened.
“How? I was beaten. Pushed. Sold by my own parents!”
The more she spoke, the more agitated she became. Tears finally fell.
“I waited for you. I waited for you to come back and marry me! But the mine collapsed—I wanted to find you. I was worried about you…”
“They found out I was trying to run. Afraid they couldn’t sell me for a good price… they locked me up! Didn’t give me food! Beat me! And to avoid trouble later, they knocked me unconscious and sold me for bride price money…”
Gu Ye’s breathing hitched.
“But those people were traffickers…”
Her voice trembled.
“When I struggled, I rolled down a hillside. I barely escaped. I hid all the way here… afraid they’d catch me again!”
Her tears splashed onto his hand.
“I risked my life to find this place… and you? You don’t remember anything! Gu Ye, you have no conscience!”
She struggled hard, but he held tighter.
He noticed bruises faintly visible beneath her sleeves.
Traffickers.
Locked up.
Escape.
The lingering doubt in his heart was replaced by rising anger.
This was worse than he’d imagined.
“You want me to get revenge?” he asked suddenly. “On who? The traffickers?”
She nodded vigorously through tears.
“They said they’d break my limbs and make me beg on the streets! You said you wouldn’t let me suffer for nothing!”
Her lips trembled.
“Gu Ye… my head hurts so much…”
If she had continued screaming and making a scene, perhaps it would’ve been easier.
But that last soft, dependent complaint tugged hardest at the heart.
Even uncertain whether she was truly his fiancée, Gu Ye fell silent.
He looked at the pitiful, tearful girl before him and, for the first time, felt this situation was truly troublesome.
Amnesia.
Sold.
Escape.
Searching for her husband.
What the hell was this mess?
He wiped his face irritably and finally released her.
“Stop crying.”
“…We’ll treat the wounds first.”
He turned to find supplies.
Left behind, Lin Wan quietly exhaled in relief. Where he couldn’t see, the corner of her lips curved briefly—then smoothed out.
You think you can use amnesia to shake her off? Pretend none of this existed?
Dream on.
She had firmly planted herself on the moral high ground.
She would push everything onto him—make him understand that she had no way out, that everything she’d done was for him, that he was her last support.
And if he was her support—
Then he’d better start acting like one.