The hospital took new scans of Yan Jiaojiao and delivered the results as quickly as possible.
The doctor said, “Miss Yan, the blood clot in your brain hasn’t dissipated. If we try to forcefully restore your memories, it could cause severe pain and, in serious cases, lead to unconsciousness.”
“But if you want to recover your memories quickly in a short time, we could take a risk by intensifying the stimulation. Aside from the pain, it won’t cause any physical harm.”
Xie Chuanyan’s hand was still gently patting Yan Jiaojiao’s back. The girl who had been crying out in pain earlier had already fallen asleep, her brow slightly furrowed.
Perhaps disturbed, she shifted and changed her sleeping position. Once she was sound asleep, Xie Chuanyan took a damp tissue and wiped the sweat from her forehead.
“Let’s take it slow.”
Someone so delicate wouldn’t be able to bear the pain.
When Yan Jiaojiao woke again, it was already early morning. She was curled up in Xie Chuanyan’s arms, her head resting on his arm, his warm palm covering her back—a position that felt incredibly safe.
Xie Chuanyan had deep dark circles under his eyes, and his breathing was shallow, as if he hadn’t slept much. Her gaze fell on the reddened spot on his ear—the rabbit earring was gone. As soon as she touched it, Xie Chuanyan woke up.
Yan Jiaojiao withdrew her hand and pulled away, sitting up defensively.
“Awake?” Xie Chuanyan’s voice was hoarse and heavily nasal. He took her hand and brought it to his lips. “Does your head still hurt?”
His voice was already low, but now it sounded as if it had been scraped by sand—raspy and torn.
Yan Jiaojiao sensed something was off and touched his forehead, pulling her hand back from the heat. “Xie Chuanyan, you have a fever!”
She shook his shoulders, trying to wake him, but Xie Chuanyan didn’t even open his eyes. With a tug, he pulled Yan Jiaojiao down onto his chest.
“Don’t fuss, sweetheart. Go back to sleep.”
The sound of his pounding heartbeat filled her ears, and even through his clothes, Yan Jiaojiao could feel the heat of his body.
No matter how much she resented him, Yan Jiaojiao couldn’t just stand by and do nothing. She struggled to break free, but Xie Chuanyan tightened his arms, locking her firmly against him.
“Let me go.”
“Sweetheart, don’t leave me.”
Hearing his fragile, pleading tone, Yan Jiaojiao’s heart instantly softened. For no reason, her nose tingled, and tears fell.
At eighteen, Yan Jiaojiao still liked Xie Chuanyan. Even though she had forgotten the past three years, she remembered everything before she turned eighteen.
Xie Chuanyan had truly been good to her, and Yan Jiaojiao was confident she had been the most vibrant part of his youth.
Xie Chuanyan must have felt something for her, but over time, had he really been able to distinguish it? Was it affection for the white moonlight in his heart, or was it love for the proud Miss Yan?
Red roses could never compare to white camellias, and she wouldn’t keep loving him forever.
The doctor said her memory loss was due to the car accident, but Yan Jiaojiao firmly believed this was the ending of her past life—only now, the book had turned a new page, and she had become the self-aware protagonist.
Xie Chuanyan, that ending was too tragic. I don’t want to get involved with you again.
The man’s body temperature continued to rise. Yan Jiaojiao wiped away her tears, genuinely afraid he might burn up and lose his senses. Leaning close to his ear, she called out, “Chuanyan gege.”
His weary eyes, which had been too heavy to open, slowly lifted. A dark glint flashed in his gaze. “Say it again.”
“Chuanyan gege, you’re sick. Let me go first, and I’ll get you some medicine, okay?”
Yan Jiaojiao’s voice was soft and coaxing. She knew Xie Chuanyan couldn’t resist this tone. Sure enough, Xie Chuanyan hummed in agreement and slowly loosened his grip.
Yan Jiaojiao immediately scrambled off the bed and went to find the butler for medicine. First, she took Xie Chuanyan’s temperature—39.9°C. The butler immediately called for a car to take him to the hospital.Yan Jiaojiao stopped him. “He won’t go. Call the doctor.”
She had tried to persuade Xie Chuanyan to go to the hospital before, but after learning about his troubled past, she never urged him again.
Xie Chuanyan’s childhood was unhappy, but he had met the “white moonlight” who healed him. Yan Jiaojiao didn’t know who to blame. She was the one who provoked Xie Chuanyan first, yet she also stole the happiness that rightfully belonged to the girl in his heart.
For years, she had undeservedly enjoyed the affection meant for someone else, and she knew she should return it.
But now Xie Chuanyan refused to let her go. The more Yan Jiaojiao thought about it, the more her head ached. She only left the room after watching the doctor give him an injection and his fever gradually subside.
Sleeping in the guest bedroom, she recalled Xie Chuanyan weakly calling her name over and over. Her mind was a tangled mess, and she ended up throwing a few punches at the air.
The air conditioning was too strong. She sneezed. What bad luck! That bastard wasn’t worth her pity—he had ruined her youth.
The next day, Yan Jiaojiao slept until noon. When she went downstairs, she saw Xie Chuanyan sitting on the sofa reviewing documents. Hearing her, he signaled the butler to bring her food.
As Yan Jiaojiao ate at the dining table, faint coughs kept drifting from the living room. Stirring the rice in her bowl, she muttered, “Even when he’s sick, he doesn’t know how to rest properly.”
The urge to get up and check on him was stifled. She finished her meal quickly, ran upstairs to change, then came back down without even glancing at him.
Seeing her rush, Xie Chuanyan asked softly, “Where are you going?”
His voice sounded clearer than yesterday. Yan Jiaojiao pursed her lips and, considering his illness, decided not to provoke him. “Going out to have fun.”
“With whom?”
“Who else could it be?”
She mumbled and ran out, but after a few steps, she stopped, squinting at Xie Kejia waving at her.
Xie Kejia was wearing a Hello Kitty helmet with a small pinwheel on top, sitting on the “luxury car” she had mentioned half an hour earlier.
Yan Jiaojiao stared speechlessly at the electric scooter covered in cartoon stickers. “This is the ‘luxury car’ you were talking about?”
“Yep.” Xie Kejia patted the back seat. “Hop on! I just got my license. The Jiajia-brand electric scooter will take you flying.”
Holding her skirt, Yan Jiaojiao reluctantly climbed on. By the time ten bicycles had overtaken them, she couldn’t help but take off her helmet. “Big Head Jia, are you trying to join the tortoise and hare race? Even a snail is faster than you.”
Xie Kejia turned a corner. “A snail couldn’t possibly be faster than me.”
Yan Jiaojiao: “…Sometimes I really want to call the police.”
The wind was too loud for Xie Kejia to hear clearly. “Hold on tight to me.”
“…”
A ten-minute journey took Xie Kejia half an hour. The scooter stopped in front of an office building, and Xie Kejia led Yan Jiaojiao straight to the fourth floor.
In the client reception room, after a minute of waiting, a middle-aged man with thinning hair, wearing a white T-shirt and black pants, entered. A work badge hung around his neck: “Gold Medal Detective.”
“Sorry to keep you waiting.”
Yan Jiaojiao got straight to the point. “I need you to investigate someone.”
“No problem. What’s her name?”
“Tian Wei.”
Although Yan Jiaojiao didn’t know who the “white moonlight” in Xie Chuanyan’s heart was, she had pinpointed this woman by recalling details from the book and had specifically looked into her background.
The results confirmed her suspicions. Tian Wei was only a year younger than Xie Chuanyan, had lived near his house as a child, and had attended the same elementary and middle schools.
However, at seventeen, she was publicly declared dead in a car accident.This completely matches the content in the book and also proves that Tian Wei is the white moonlight Xie Chuanyan has kept hidden in his heart.
Upon hearing the name she mentioned, the detective opened his computer and typed a few keys. “Didn’t she die long ago?”
Xie Kejia was also shocked. “Jiaojiao, why are you investigating a dead person?”
Yan Jiaojiao took a sip of water, her thick, upturned eyelashes casting shadows over her eyelids. “She’s not dead.”
“How is that possible!”
Xie Kejia was utterly incredulous, immediately feeling a chill run down her spine. She thought Yan Jiaojiao had gone mad and started talking nonsense—could it be a side effect of amnesia?
The detective adjusted his black-framed glasses, his tone tinged with interest. After all, in their line of work, the more bizarre the case, the more thrilling it was to tackle.
“Miss Yan, are you sure you want to investigate this?”
“Absolutely.”