Chapter 231: You're not suffering from amnesia, are you?

It seemed someone was speaking beside her ear; Xia Xi's eyelids felt as heavy as a thousand jin, she could not open them for a long time, and her head was dazed, as if someone had hit her with a stick.

She couldn't hear that voice very clearly, but it was very familiar; it should be Xu Yanfeng.

Who was Xu Yanfeng talking to?

Why hasn't she woken up yet?

Have all the necessary checks been done?

Is the brain CT okay?

Xia Xi frowned; how could Xu Yanfeng have so many questions?

Wasn't she sleeping on the plane? What checks, what brain CT, what was he saying… oh, she understood, she was probably dreaming. After they split, she often dreamed of Xu Yanfeng—his face, his voice appearing in various forms in her dreams.

Xia Xi relaxed and let herself be led by the dream.

At that moment, another male voice sounded beside her ear, possibly a bit older, with a deep tone: 'All the checks have been done; the results show no internal injury to her head, not even a mild concussion.'

Xu Yanfeng asked the same question as before: 'Then why hasn't she woken up yet?'

The doctor tried to analyze: 'Could it be that she's just drunk?' When the patient was admitted to the emergency room last night, she reeked of alcohol.

……

Faced with the doctor's speculation, Xu Yanfeng's expression stiffened as he recalled everything from last night's celebration banquet. Xia Xi had indeed drunk a lot, heavily intoxicated; otherwise, how could she have been easily fooled by him and kissed him of her own accord?

From last night until this morning, he had been so anxious his head was spinning, and he hadn't thought of alcohol as a possibility.

Xu Yanfeng pressed his brow and asked the doctor: 'When will she wake up?'

'Well…' the doctor couldn't be certain; it depended on how much alcohol the woman in the bed had consumed. But seeing the man's worried expression, not giving him an answer would leave him unsettled, so he said, 'It should be soon.'

Xu Yanfeng nodded: 'Thank you.'

'Of course.' The doctor slipped his hands into his white coat pockets, left the words 'Call me if anything changes,' and exited the ward.

Xu Yanfeng wore a shirt and vest; his suit jacket had been thrown to the floor and dirtied by Xia Xi last night, making it unwearable. He pulled a chair to the bedside, sat with his elbows on his knees, hands crossed over his lips, and waited silently for the sleeper to awaken.

After the sounds in the ward ceased, Xia Xi dozed off a little more; her eyeballs moved beneath her thin eyelids, a subtle motion that Xu Yanfeng noticed. He rose, bent down, drew near Xia Xi, and fixed his gaze on her face.

After a while, seeing she still hadn't opened her eyes, Xu Yanfeng grew a bit anxious and tried to rouse her: 'Xia Xi, Xia Xi.'

Being close, Xia Xi heard the voice distinctly; it was indeed Xu Yanfeng's.

She couldn't help wondering whether a voice in a dream could be so lifelike.

Eager to verify, Xia Xi's eyelashes twitched, she lifted her lids; her vision was still a bit blurry, but a face seemed to loom before her. She stared for a moment, and her sight cleared.

It was Xu Yanfeng's face, not quite as she had imagined.

Xu Yanfeng, in his early twenties, usually bore an air between youth and maturity, but at this moment, in her eyes he was wholly a mature man—his brows and eyes deeper, giving an impression of steadiness, reliability, and dignity.

Xia Xi stared blankly for two seconds, thinking to herself, 'Surely it's a dream.'

Since it's a dream, seeing any version of Xu Yanfeng isn't surprising; she might even dream of his middle‑aged or elderly self later.

Xia Xi remained silent for a long time, showing no other reaction, merely staring at him; Xu Yanfeng softly asked, 'Where do you feel uncomfortable?'

Xia Xi felt no discomfort, at most a slight dizziness from oversleeping and a faint ache somewhere. Those didn't matter; right now she was curious about how a dream could feel so vivid.

His face was so clear she could see each eyelash; his voice was so near, his breath brushed her cheek.

Xia Xi dared not move, fearing that if she spoke or made any gesture she would shatter the dream and return to reality, losing sight of Xu Yanfeng and his voice.

She struggled to suppress the urge to reach out and touch his face, daring only to let her eyes wander over it.

Her stillness frightened Xu Yanfeng; he was about to call the doctor for an examination, but having just risen, Xia Xi sensed he was about to leave. Instantly all her reservations vanished, and she lunged to grab his clothing.

Xu Yanfeng's motion paused; he lowered his torso, opened his mouth to ask what she wanted to say, when suddenly she wrapped her arms around his neck.

His spine stiffened inch by inch, his whole body frozen in place.

Using the embrace as leverage, Xia Xi half‑sat up, still believing she was dreaming, and gave her truest feeling: 'Don't go; if you leave, I won't know when we'll meet again.' Of course, the next meeting would still be in a dream.

But she didn't dream of him every time, so she must cherish the dreams that do include him.

Xu Yanfeng's breathing tightened; he didn't know where to put his hands, wanting to hold her yet afraid of disturbing something. His breath halted for a few seconds, then he braced his arms on either side of her body, pressing deep indentations into the pillow.

'I won't leave.' Xu Yanfeng's voice low, 'I will stay here.'

On the condition that she still needs him.

Xia Xi closed her eyes, her cheek lightly rubbing his shoulder, as if they were still lovers who had never parted. But she gradually realized something was off—how could a dream convey body heat, or feel so solid in an embrace? She tightened her fingers, grabbing a handful of hair at the base of his skull.

Xu Yanfeng felt a slight sting on his scalp, hearing her ask: 'Does it hurt?'

He didn't understand why, and instinctively replied: 'No, it doesn't hurt.'

Xia Xi suddenly felt uncertain; since she felt no pain, she must still be dreaming.

Lu Mingji went to the nurse's station to inquire about Xia Xi's ward, then walked down the corridor checking each room. Xia Xi stayed in a VIP ward; the door was open, likely because the doctor had just left not long ago.

He held the bouquet in his arms, freed a hand, and knocked twice on the door.

The two inside the ward were lost in their own worlds, hearing nothing; Lu Mingji entered, turned past the bedside toilet, his view widened, and he saw the two people on the bed locked in an embrace.

Lu Mingji didn't see Xia Xi's face, hesitated a moment, thinking he'd taken a wrong turn, and was about to retreat when Xu Yanfeng's profile flashed into his sight, abruptly stopping his movement to leave.

Xu Yanfeng noticed someone entering, turned his face for a glance, and grabbed Xia Xi's arm, pulling it down.

Xia Xi looked at the sudden newcomer in the ward, blinked, recognized the person—it was Lu Mingji.

Lu Mingji swallowed the bitter taste rising in his chest, walked to the bedside, placed the bouquet and fruit basket on the nightstand, gave Xu Yanfeng a courteous nod, then turned to Xia Xi and asked, 'How do you feel? What did the doctor say?'

Xia Xi wore a dazed expression; how could Lu Mingji possibly appear in the same space as a Xu Yanfeng in his early twenties? It was too bizarre.

She glanced at Xu Yanfeng, not understanding what was wrong.

Lu Mingji thought she was acting odd, waved a hand in front of her eyes, and said, 'Are you being dense? Don't scare me.'

Xu Yanfeng said nothing more and immediately went to call the doctor.

Xia Xi covered her forehead, lay back down, closed her eyes, then opened them again—she was in a hospital ward, not an airplane first‑class cabin. She turned her head and asked, 'What year is it now?' Wanting specifics, she added, 'What month and day?'

Lu Mingji exclaimed 'Damn!' his expression bordering on terror: 'Xia Xi, you couldn't have lost your memory, could you?!'

Xu Yanfeng, who had just brought the doctor over, happened to hear their exchange; his steps faltered slightly, and a thought sprang to mind—if she really had amnesia, that would be fine.

Best to keep the memory at six years ago.

Seven years ago is fine; if not, going back to eight years ago, when they had just met, is also fine; anything is better than now.