“Yelu Qianqian… Yelu Qianqian… this name…”
Baili Weisheng murmured to himself, yet having learned from last time, he no longer dared to dwell on it too much.
Even though he’d completely lost his memory, he still vaguely felt that before his amnesia, that man named Xuanyuan Lige had entrusted him with something important, something he absolutely had to carry out!
He vaguely remembered having been entrusted with someone’s dying wish, but exactly what that wish was, he simply couldn’t recall no matter how hard he tried!
Could it be that this name, Yelu Qianqian, was somehow connected to that very matter?
Baili Weisheng instinctively tried to force himself to remember, but very quickly, a tearing, splitting pain began spreading from his forehead back through his skull, frightening him into stopping at once!
Don’t think about it, don’t think about it, don’t think about anything! Better to go take a look at what Yelu Qianqian actually looked like first!
Xiong Xiaobao watched Baili Weisheng’s constantly shifting expression, both anxious and hopeful.
“Let’s go,” Baili Weisheng said, waving his hand.
“Did you just remember something?” Xiong Xiaobao asked timidly.
“No!” Baili Weisheng said, immediately hopping out of bed. He wasn’t in the mood to entertain this little troublemaker any further, lest he be forced into something again.
Claiming he’d once been a ruthless demon who killed without blinking, dragging him onto the battlefield to try and jog some feeling loose, and in the end, he’d felt absolutely nothing at all—instead, he’d suffered through it all and completely forgotten everything that happened on the battlefield afterward.
Seeing Baili Weisheng walk off, Xiong Xiaobao hurriedly chased after him. Sensing Baili Weisheng’s wariness, he didn’t dare press further, trotting along obediently behind him instead.
But very quickly, something entirely unexpected happened.
Just as Baili Weisheng stepped through the entrance of the main hall, coming face to face with Yelu Qianqian and Situ Haonan, he abruptly froze in place, and Xiong Xiaobao, following right behind, accidentally crashed straight into him!
Xiong Xiaobao stumbled sideways, rubbing his little head as he emerged from behind Baili Weisheng, only to find the entire group across the room staring, mouths agape—even his usually “poker-faced” father wore a strange expression, staring at Baili Weisheng right along with everyone else.
What was going on? What was happening here?
Puzzled, Xiong Xiaobao turned to look at Baili Weisheng, only to find that at some point, this man’s expression had turned deadly serious!
Never mind after his amnesia—even before losing his memory, this man had never once worn such a grave expression!
Xiong Xiaobao startled. Could it be…
But before he could even speak, Baili Weisheng, still staring fixedly at Yelu Qianqian, suddenly clutched his head with both hands!
Pain!
Not ordinary pain, but the kind of unbearable agony no normal person could withstand—as though a hundred ants were burrowing through his skull, drilling deeper and deeper, the pain making his entire scalp go numb!
He… what was wrong with him?
Just as everyone stood there in shock, Baili Weisheng cried out, “Yelu Qianqian!!!”
At these words, Yelu Qianqian was terrified out of her wits—wasn’t this man supposed to have lost his memory? Why did he look at her like he’d just spotted a mortal enemy? She didn’t recall ever wronging this man before!
Yelu Qianqian instinctively hid behind Situ Haonan, who turned to look at Jun Beiyue, clearly seeking an explanation with his gaze.
What on earth was wrong with this man?
“Damned scholar, what’s wrong with you?” Ziqing asked timidly, stepping forward to try to pull Baili Weisheng’s hands away from his head. But before she could even touch him, Baili Weisheng violently wrenched her hand away, staggering back several steps!
“I remember you! Yelu Qianqian, I remember you!”
“You’re Yelu Qianqian!”
“I remember you, but… I can’t quite recall…”
Baili Weisheng’s voice was loud, yet it sounded almost like he was talking to himself, speaking only for his own ears.
These words instantly turned everyone’s earlier alarm into sheer delight—could it be that this man was about to recover his memory?
Was he on the verge of remembering everything?
Though everyone was puzzled as to why it would be Yelu Qianqian who triggered this man’s memory, at this moment, no one had time to dwell on such details!
All they knew was that as long as this man could remember, everything would be fine.
Yelu Qianqian, no longer afraid either, immediately stepped forward and strode toward Baili Weisheng.
“Baili Weisheng, I’m the young lord of Western Jing, Ziqing’s good friend, Situ Haonan’s wife—we’ve met several times before!”
“Look at me, look all you want, take your time, think it through slowly, there’s no rush. Whatever you want to know, I’ll tell you!”
…
Though Yelu Qianqian kept saying not to rush, her expression and tone betrayed even more urgency than Baili Weisheng’s own.
Only then did Baili Weisheng manage to calm down somewhat, earnestly studying Yelu Qianqian’s features—yet he found he had absolutely no recollection of this woman’s appearance whatsoever.
More precisely, he’d only recalled the name Yelu Qianqian itself, nothing more.
“Yelu Qianqian… Yelu Qianqian…”
Baili Weisheng murmured again, once more clutching his head, finally squeezing his eyes shut and straining to think with all his might, “Yelu Qianqian, Yelu Qianqian, what exactly happened?”
His voice rose and fell, sometimes loud, sometimes soft, and no one could quite make out what he said toward the end.
Jue Mingzi watched with furrowed brow, hesitating over whether to use acupuncture on Baili Weisheng—he understood better than anyone just how much pain Baili Weisheng was in at this very moment.
Yet it was Ziqing who spoke up first. “Damned scholar, stop trying to remember for now!”
With that, she stepped forward and grabbed hold of Baili Weisheng’s hand. This time, he didn’t shake her off, his brow furrowed tight as he looked at Ziqing, his expression full of anguish, blurting out involuntarily, “I’m sorry, I can’t remember.”
“Don’t think about it, don’t think about it, stop trying for now. You haven’t wronged me, and you haven’t wronged anyone,” Ziqing said, her own brow furrowed too. Though she appeared angry on the surface, her heart ached terribly.
Even though she said nothing about it, the pain in her heart was real.
What kind of man was this damned scholar, anyway? He carried a human-Gu constitution—he’d endured the process of being raised as a Gu vessel himself. What pain in this world could he possibly be unable to bear?
Just how excruciating did this headache have to be, to leave him looking this tormented?
Yes!
Baili Weisheng was in pain, genuine pain, as though it had become a habit, an instinct—he himself wasn’t even aware he was suffering so desperately, ignoring the pain even as he struggled to remember.
There was a distinct sense of losing control, unconsciously enduring it, unable to stop himself from continuing to try to recall—fortunately, fortunately this woman had stopped him in time!
Only after coming back to his senses did Baili Weisheng feel a wave of belated fear, unsure whether continuing to force his memory any further might have driven him to the point of losing his mind from the pain.
Don’t think about it, don’t think about it—he’d agreed before coming here that he wouldn’t dwell on it.
“Haonan, why don’t you all go rest for now. I’ll talk with him,” Ziqing said flatly, giving Jun Beiyue a reassuring glance.
“If you need anything, come find us anytime,” Situ Haonan said, stepping forward, his tone flat.
But just then, Baili Weisheng, who had calmed down considerably, turned to look at Situ Haonan, and once again, just as before, his expression suddenly turned deadly, deadly serious.
Situ Haonan stopped in his tracks, glancing suspiciously at Ziqing, then at Jun Beiyue.
“Go rest,” Jun Beiyue said flatly, supporting Baili Weisheng—he didn’t want to see this man suffer through such agony either.
But unexpectedly, Baili Weisheng suddenly blurted out, “I remember now!”