You Mingxu called Chen Feng at noon and was informed that Yin Feng hadn’t yet regained consciousness. She went back to work. As soon as the end-of-day bell rang, she left first—something unprecedented for her—hailed a taxi, and headed straight for Xianghui Hospital.

Shortly after departing, Chen Feng texted: “Teacher Yin is awake!”

You Mingxu smiled and urged the driver, “Could you please go faster?”

“Sure thing! Someone sick in the family?” the driver asked.

Looking out the window, You Mingxu replied, “My boyfriend. Nothing serious.”

Yin Feng was still in the same VIP ward as before. As You Mingxu stepped out of the elevator, she ran into Chen Feng leaving the room. Their eyes met briefly; she gave a slight nod and walked straight into the room. Because of this, she failed to notice Chen Feng’s unusual expression.

While Chen Feng was typically composed and elegant, today he was visibly unsettled. When he saw You Mingxu appear, his gaze flickered. Watching her rush into the room, he seemed to want to say something but hesitated. Finally, he called a nurse out and closed the door behind them.

You Mingxu immediately spotted him sitting up in bed, slowly sipping porridge from a bowl.

Outside, night had fallen, and the room was filled with soft light. He wore an immaculately clean hospital gown, and his hair appeared to have been combed before her arrival, highlighting his fair complexion and handsome features.

You Mingxu suddenly remembered how he had called out “Ah Xu” with a choked voice before passing out on the mountain, and her heart softened. Whatever his condition might be now, whether he could recover or not, she would shoulder it all.

She glanced at his hand gripping the porcelain bowl—long, pale, with strong knuckles. Just looking at his hands now filled her heart with tenderness and affection.

He was hers, after all. Whether as a boy or a man. He was hers.

Yin Feng noticed her and looked up, his clear eyes unchanged.

But You Mingxu, too happy to notice the subtle signs, walked over and embraced him with one arm, saying with a smile, “You scared me to death. How are you feeling? Does your head still hurt? Is anything else uncomfortable?”

He remained silent.

There was only a soft “clank” as he set the bowl on the bedside table.

And his hands, unlike usual, didn’t quickly wrap around her waist.

You Mingxu paused, a hint of doubt sprouting in her heart like a tender shoot. She released him and sat on the edge of the bed, barely half a foot between them, their eyes meeting.

In her rush to enter earlier, she hadn’t noticed that his hospital gown wasn’t buttoned up neatly as usual—the first two buttons were undone, revealing some of his well-proportioned, strong physique. After her embrace, he seemed completely unmoved, one hand resting on the bedside table, the other on the blanket, his middle finger tapping lightly. His face wasn’t tilted up toward her with its usual cheerfulness. Instead, his chin was slightly tucked, making his facial features appear tighter and more reserved. His eyes, as deep as a well reflecting the night sky, held a distant and cool gaze that You Mingxu couldn’t mistake.

In just that one look, You Mingxu suddenly felt the world around her fall silent. The man before her was so familiar—every line, even every inch of his body, she knew and had possessed. Yet now, he was a different person. He didn’t even need to speak; every finger, every slight movement carried the presence of the thirty-year-old Yin Feng. Completely different from the person who would cling to her, coax her, worship her, and love her.

You Mingxu felt her heart slowly sinking. In her daze, she could still hear his voice in her ear: “Ah Xu, I only love you, worship you. I would die for you. If only you love me too.”

But now, the same person was examining her with eyes as cool as water.

An absurd feeling washed over her. You Mingxu’s nose began to sting, but still unwilling to give up, she fixed her gaze on his eyes and called out once more: “You Yingjun?”

Then she watched as the man before her very slowly smiled. But those eyes remained devoid of any warmth.

“What? Do I have another name?” The voice was the same, but his tone was deeply measured, without a trace of youthful exuberance. He said, “Who gave me that name? It’s as stupid as dog shit. Don’t ever call me that again.”

You Mingxu had never experienced anything like this. Looking at him, she felt her heart silently contract. It crumpled into a ball, finally sending waves of dull pain through her chest.

Had she lost You Yingjun just like that?

Just like that?

She had considered the possibility that he might recover one day. At most, she had anticipated a change in his personality, and whether they could continue would depend on fate. She never imagined that, judging by his tone, it would be all or nothing—he simply didn’t remember their time together.

In just one moment, he was looking at her with strange eyes.

She heard herself ask, “What do you remember about us? How much do you remember?”

The man’s expression finally showed a slight change. He didn’t answer immediately, his tapping finger stopping. He said, “I’ve been awake for less than half an hour, and my brain is still recovering. I haven’t sorted out what happened during this period. You should go home first, and if necessary…” He smiled slightly. “I’ll find you.”

You Mingxu remained silent for a moment, her face now expressionless. Then she stood and walked toward the door.

Behind her, Yin Feng looked up, glancing at her a few times, about to close his eyes to rest when he heard a sound. He opened his eyes to see that she hadn’t left but had instead closed the door and locked it.

Yin Feng’s expression turned cold.

You Mingxu walked straight back to him, no longer sitting down but pressing one hand against the wall beside him, leaning down to say, “I’m not used to waiting for people. Let’s clear things up now—how much does that repeatedly damaged brain of yours remember from the past year? Don’t think about calling anyone; believe it or not, while I’m here, no one will dare come in, nor will they be able to.”

For the current Yin Feng, no woman had ever dared to speak to him like this. He had never met such a forceful, unrefined woman. He was slightly stunned.

The woman was undoubtedly beautiful, but she barely wore any makeup and wasn’t particularly refined. She exuded a wild vitality tinged with street-wise charm. What Yin Feng couldn’t ignore was that from the moment she entered the room, his heavy mind was flooded with a familiar feeling. He even felt a sense of intimacy and security. For him, this was a feeling he had never experienced in his thirty years.

So under the woman’s intense gaze, instead of retreating, he advanced, lifting his head until their faces were only centimeters apart, feeling their intimate breaths mingling, and he could even feel his heart inexplicably flutter.