the two of them stared at each other for a full half-minute. Although both had undergone some changes, having confirmed each other’s eyes, each remained the person the other detested.
Anyone unaware might have thought a pair of handsome men and beautiful women were gazing tenderly at one another, when in truth, both were on the verge of exploding.
“What did you do to Grandma Tong?”
Tong Xiaoqian reached out and yanked off the big floral quilt covering Lei Yihong, then reached out again…
Holy crap!
Why was this profiteer still wearing a bright red thermal shirt?!
Before she could process why Lei Yihong was covered in a big floral quilt and wearing a red thermal shirt, Lei Yihong, refusing to show weakness, grabbed the hand clutching his collar.
He attempted to leap up and counter her, only to find his entire body limp and lacking even a shred of strength.
As a result, Tong Xiaoqian pinned him right there, clutching his neck.
“Let go!”
“Not letting go. How was the matter resolved?”
Lying there, Lei Yihong looked at the woman pressing down on him. He hadn’t expected her to be so strong—it had to be because he had no strength right now.
He closed his eyes. “First, tell me where this is…”
Tong Xiaoqian abruptly scanned her surroundings and was struck dumb.
What kind of hellhole was this?
It felt like walking into an impoverished countryside village.
A dim, belly-bulging old-fashioned lightbulb hung from the ceiling. The four walls were brushed with white lime that had already chipped and peeled in patches. The table, chairs, and benches were all old-fashioned, with their paint flaking off.
Most exaggerated of all, a big red “Double Happiness” character was pasted on the brownish-yellow wardrobe nearby.
Suddenly, she caught sight of the calendar hanging on the wall, showing June 2, 1991.
The two of them were currently on a large brick *kang* bed.
She looked down at herself, realizing that not only had Lei Yihong changed clothes, but she had as well.
The black biker suit she wore when she went out had unexpectedly turned into an utterly tacky red floral-print shirt, while her bottom half was a pair of navy blue pants.
They didn’t fit properly either, giving off a full-blown billowy feel when worn.
She looked toward Lei Yihong. “Where is this?”
Just as Lei Yihong was about to say “I don’t know,” he suddenly felt a sharp, itchy pain in his head as a stream of memories that didn’t belong to him came flooding in…
He clutched his head with both hands, his body curling up.
Tong Xiaoqian hurriedly got off him, watching his tightly furrowed brows, closed eyes, and trembling body.
For a moment, she thought this guy had some hidden disease.
Lei Yihong didn’t understand why the memories of another person had suddenly appeared in his mind.
That person was also named Lei Yihong, but he was a man living in the nineties who shared the exact same name, only 22 years old this year.
The last memory was of “Lei Yihong” lying on the *kang* bed in a state of fading consciousness, while his mother told him she was letting Tong Xiaoya marry him to ward off bad luck and cure his illness…
“Lei Yihong” was scrubbed and cleaned by others, changed into new clothes and pants, and after a burst of firecrackers, someone shouted loudly, “The bride is here!”
After that, there were no more memories.
When he woke up in the room, he discovered this woman.
In the end, did he merely gain an extra set of memories, or had he already turned into another person entirely?
He slowly opened his eyes and looked at Tong Xiaoqian again. Was this woman that stupid bride?
And Tong Xiaoya was actually a little orphan girl adopted by the Lei family—or rather than adopted, it was actually foster care.
The situation here was a bit complicated, and he hadn’t had time to digest it yet.
Just as Tong Xiaoqian looked at his puzzled eyes and was about to speak, a rustling sound came from outside the door.
“Yihong, are you awake? Xiaoya, are you alright?”
A middle-aged woman’s voice drifted in, her tone carrying a hint of delight and probing.
This voice felt like something Tong Xiaoqian had heard before, yet she couldn’t remember who it was at all.
For Lei Yihong, however, it was extremely familiar. Or rather, this voice existed within the extra memories in his mind.
It was “Lei Yihong’s” biological mother, Wang Yumei.
To think he didn’t just gain extra memories, but also an extra mom!
Tong Xiaoqian’s gaze drifted toward Lei Yihong. Did the people outside know him?
Who was Xiaoya?
Hearing no reply, the person outside grew a bit anxious and pressed further, “Son, I’m Mom. Are you awake? I just heard someone talking in the room, give me an answer!”
Lei Yihong instantly tensed up all over and made a “shh” motion at Tong Xiaoqian.
Seeing his secretive appearance, an eighteen-episode soap opera immediately played out in Tong Xiaoqian’s mind.
Lei Yihong shouted toward the door, “Awake.”
The woman’s voice outside sounded again, “Heavens bless us! Father of my child, did you hear that? Our Yihong woke up!”
“I heard it! Son, I’m opening the door now…” A middle-aged man outside spoke with a sob in his voice.
It was the voice of “Lei Yihong’s” biological father, Lei Wanqiang.
The moment the two entered the door, they began to cry.
Wang Yumei rushed straight over to Lei Yihong, hugging him and weeping bitterly, “Son, you finally woke up!”
Lei Wanqiang stood off to the side, wiping his tears as well.
Sitting on the *kang* bed, Tong Xiaoqian felt completely like an outsider.
Who could tell her what kind of play was being put on here?
Being hugged at this moment, Lei Yihong’s mood was also extremely complex. Filled with resistance, he pushed the woman away.
Wang Yumei let go of him, reaching out her trembling hands to stroke his face, “Son, Mom thought…”
Before she could finish her sentence, she started crying again.
Lei Yihong didn’t say a single word. Although he had the memories in his mind, this couple was both familiar and strange to him.
Wang Yumei then pulled Tong Xiaoqian, who was sitting nearby intently eating popcorn as a spectator, into her embrace, “Child, it’s been hard on you! Mom thanks you!”
Tong Xiaoqian was hugged so tightly she couldn’t breathe, her face stifled against the woman’s chest. She couldn’t help pushing at the woman before her.
As if only just coming to her senses, Wang Yumei released her again, continuously stroking her head with eyes full of tears, “Xiaoya… Mom thanks you…”
Only now did Tong Xiaoqian get the chance to carefully examine the woman before her: in her early nineties, with a gentle smile, a somewhat lean build, and a refined face. Likely due to doing farm work year-round, she looked slightly aged, with fine lines appearing at the corners of her eyes and skin that was a bit wheat-colored.
The man standing nearby talking to Lei Yihong was also in his nineties, of medium build, with dark skin and a very honest, simple demeanor.
Only now did Tong Xiaoqian figure out that the “Xiaoya” in the woman’s mouth referred to her.
Looking at Lei Yihong beside her, although he looked unnatural, he didn’t seem surprised, so he probably knew something about the situation.
Lei Wanqiang kept asking about Lei Yihong’s physical condition, to which he answered perfunctorily.
In the end, he said a sentence, “I’m tired and want to rest.”
He was also in a state of confusion at the moment, and it was the truth: his body urgently needed rest, and sitting for just this short while had already brought out a cold sweat.
However, regarding their attitude, the couple didn’t seem to find anything amiss.
Wang Yumei nodded, “Right, he just woke up, let him rest more. We’ll talk again tomorrow…”
She looked at Tong Xiaoya again, “Xiaoya, you stay with Yihong for the night first. Call me if anything happens.”
Tong Xiaoqian nodded, then asked, “Is there a spare quilt?”
“Yes, I’ll go get one for you.” Wang Yumei stepped out for a moment and came back carrying a quilt.