24 The Memory That Was Lost and Found (1)

"Wanwan is alright," Zong Yinyang finally compromised, leaving after tossing out those words.

Pan Yueyang picked up Wanwan, confirmed she had only fainted, and with a sweep of his broad hand, pulled over the blanket to cover her again. He said nothing, simply sitting in the chair across from her, silent.

"Senior Brother, has Wanwan woken yet?" Having heard that Wanwan had suffered a nightmare last night and fainted, Baili Mubai hurried towards Pan Yueyang's room, abandoning his breakfast after only a few bites.

"Not yet," Pan Yueyang replied. Having not slept all night, a shadow of stubble adorned his face, lending him an air of mature masculinity.

Baili Mubai looked at his senior brother. "You should rest, Senior Brother. Let me take care of Wanwan."

Pan Yueyang did not object and rose, intending to tidy himself.

"Senior Brother..." Baili Mubai wanted to say more but hesitated. Pan Yueyang patted him on the shoulder.

"Senior Brother, you have always been someone I admired. Since childhood, I've looked up to you. In my heart, you are second only to our master," Mubai said, gazing at Wanwan on the bed. "I like Wanwan, but I respect you even more, Senior Brother." His youthful face was resolute.

Looking at the boy who had followed him since the age of five, Pan Yueyang realized that the scruffy little shadow trailing behind him and Xueqing had grown into a suave, elegant young man.

Pan Yueyang only smiled faintly, saying nothing. Mubai understood his senior brother's taciturn nature—such a smile was full of affection. He hugged Pan Yueyang tightly, as if to reaffirm his place as the little brother, always the one chasing after him.

Pan Yueyang frowned slightly. "You’re a grown man now. Why are you still hugging people like when you were a child?" His words were laced with boundless fondness.

"Senior Brother, in my heart..." Mubai choked up, unable to continue.

"I understand it all. Enough—take care of Wanwan. I have other matters to attend to," Pan Yueyang soothed his emotional junior.

"As long as you forgive me, Senior Brother." Mubai lowered his head, a little embarrassed. When it came to Wanwan, he knew he could only watch over her as a friend and nothing more.

"You will meet the right person one day. Your life is just beginning," Pan Yueyang said, not mentioning Wanwan. He had already forgiven Mubai for his outburst about wanting Wanwan.

The two brothers exchanged a smile, their emotions dissolving any awkwardness that lingered.

...

The relentless heat of midsummer persisted, the air thick with scorching wind. Breathing felt sticky and dry. Baili Mubai, who had taken over the vigil from his senior brother in the morning, sat by Wanwan's side, dozing off in the chair. It was now noon, and the waves of heat made him smack his lips, nearly drooling in his sleep. He pulled himself upright, wiping his face with his sleeve.

"Young Master Mubai, have some chilled soup to relieve the heat," Feng He entered, carrying a bowl.

"Oh." The glutton in him immediately took the bowl. The icy chill spread from his fingers throughout his body—so refreshing! He gulped it down greedily.

"Has Miss shown any sign of waking?" Feng He glanced at the bed.

"No, I’ve been watching. Senior Brother hasn't come back either," Mubai replied, wondering if his senior brother was avoiding Wanwan because he knew Mubai liked her. Such thoughtfulness!

"I think he's still in the study," Feng He replied uncertainly. She, too, had been waiting outside for Wanwan to wake.

"What about Zong Yinyang?"

Again with Zong Yinyang? Master Yin? Feng He caught on. "He hasn’t come either. I heard from the maid delivering the soup that he’s preparing to leave."

"I’ll go check. Feng He, look after Wanwan," Mubai said, rising to leave.

"Mm..."

Their eyes met—then, in the next moment, Mubai rushed to the bed. Yes! That sound had come from the person on the bed!

"Wanwan!" Mubai called.

"Mm..." So thirsty, so hot.

"Miss?" Feng He saw that Wanwan was indeed awake but clearly uncomfortable. "Are you thirsty? I’ll bring you some water."

At the mention of water, Yan’er felt her thirst intensify. "Xiaoyu..."

The name slipped out, leaving Mubai and Feng He stunned.

Without pausing, Feng He poured a cup of water, helped Wanwan sit up, and brought the cup to her parched lips.

As if sensing the water, Yan’er instinctively drank in great gulps.

"Feng He, look after Wanwan. I’m going to fetch Senior Brother," Mubai said, reassured now that Wanwan had awoken.

Yan’er opened her eyes to an unfamiliar room, draped in luxurious white canopies layered in sheer fabric, a redwood carved bed, and a soft silk quilt upon her. She touched it—top quality!

"Miss, are you feeling unwell anywhere?" Feng He asked with concern.

"Feng...Feng He?" Yan’er managed to call her name.

"Yes," Feng He replied, smiling with relief.

"Wait!" Yan’er shook her head and closed her eyes, gathering her thoughts.

Seeing that she wanted no one near, Feng He stood back, unsure what to do.

Pan Yueyang and Baili Mubai hurried toward the bedroom, both relieved. Entering, they saw Wanwan sitting up, eyes half-closed, her expression melancholic.

"Wanwan, are you feeling unwell?" Pan Yueyang asked. Now that she was awake, he didn’t need to worry so much. "Fetch a physician."

Feng He quickly left to do his bidding.

"My name isn’t Wanwan," Yan’er said, still keeping her eyes closed as she pondered, addressing the two men.

"Wanwan, what’s wrong?" Mubai asked, puzzled.

"I’m much better, just a little weak," Yan’er’s mind replayed the events of recent times: being abducted, nearly defiled, smashing her head against the cliff in desperation, and then surviving by untying her loosened bonds. Afterwards, she followed an old woman here—and then this man, Pan Yueyang, had slept with her!

Suddenly she opened her eyes and fixed them on Pan Yueyang. "General, my surname is Yan, given name Er. My family resides in Yangzhou."

Pan Yueyang noticed Wanwan’s odd demeanor—the difference in her tone now and the way she had spoken during their recent time together. He realized she had been cured by Zong Yinyang.

"Where is Mr. Yin?" she asked.

"Wanwan—no, Yan’er," Mubai corrected himself awkwardly, scratching his head.

"Call me whatever you wish," Yan’er smiled gently. She remembered the big-hearted young man.

"Mr. Yin has already left. He’s probably out of the mansion by now," Pan Yueyang replied, unsettled by Yan’er’s sudden formality.

After a moment, she asked, "Has Miss Fu left as well?" She recalled Fu Ruirui had said her family was from Yangzhou too.

"Rest for now. I’ll send for her later," Pan Yueyang said, excusing himself.

With her senior brother gone, Mubai felt no reason to stay. "Wanwan—er, Yan’er, you still remember me, don’t you?"

Yan’er smiled. "Mubai, I remember myself now. I never said I forgot any of you." Mubai was firmly in her circle of friends.

"Good!" Mubai grinned in relief. "Rest well."

The room quieted. Yan’er closed her eyes again, mulling over the past two months. What she was thinking, only she knew.

When she opened her eyes again, it was evening. She rose slowly, not bothering with shoes, and sat before the bronze mirror, combing her hair absentmindedly, her hand drifting to her belly.

She was pregnant, her innocence taken without her memory by a man, now carrying his child. Yan’er gazed coldly at her own abdomen—how fate had toyed with her.

Where should she go from here?

"Miss, you’re awake," Feng He entered to see Yan’er, hair neat, searching the wardrobe for a dress. "Let me help you, Miss."

Yan’er stepped aside, accepting her help. "Where is the General?" Her tone was calm since waking.

"The General instructed that once you awoke, you could go directly to the dining hall. Young Master Mubai and Miss Fu are waiting," Feng He replied carefully, noting Yan’er’s newfound reserve.

"Alright, bring some water. I haven’t washed my face since waking." Yan’er brushed her bangs aside.

Without another word, Feng He fetched water.

When all was ready, Feng He supported Yan’er to the dining hall. "Thank you for looking after me these days," Yan’er said.

"It was my duty," Feng He replied, feeling a little hurt by Yan’er’s distance.

They walked mostly in silence, Yan’er lost in thought.

"General," Yan’er greeted with a proper curtsey, every inch the lady of refinement.

"Come, sit," Pan Yueyang said, not looking at her. Since Wanwan had awoken, she had kept her distance, deliberately avoiding any mention of what had happened between them.

"Wanwan, I heard you’ve regained your memory? You remember everything now?" Fu Ruirui leaned in, eyes shining with excitement.

"Yes, I have, Miss Fu," Yan’er replied with a poised smile.

"Oh..." Fu Ruirui sensed the change in her, holding back from any further intimacy, and returned to her seat.

"Enough, you just woke up. Eat something before we talk," Pan Yueyang poured himself a cup of wine.

Yan’er looked at the familiar faces, then knelt. "I, Yan’er, suffered at the hands of villains, found myself in peril, but thanks to heaven’s mercy, though stranded in a foreign land, I was never cold or hungry. Every one of you has been my benefactor, my savior. Today, I bow in thanks!" She finished with a resounding kowtow.

"Wanwan!" Mubai hurried to help her up. "No need to be so formal! If you act like this, we’ll all be strangers."

Pan Yueyang sat stiffly, his smile forced. Wanwan’s coldness and detachment left him at a loss—they were both avoiding each other, as though their intimate moments were nothing but a fleeting dream.

"Wanwan, you..." Fu Ruirui hesitated.

"Miss Fu, please speak freely," Yan’er said with a graceful smile, taking her seat beside Pan Yueyang.

"It’s nothing. Let’s eat," Fu Ruirui muttered, appetite lost as the mood darkened.

"I remember you said your family is also from Yangzhou," Yan’er said, her sorrowful expression suggesting that place was both the source of joy and pain.

"Yes, we’re from Yangzhou Prefecture."

"So is mine," Yan’er added, feeling a pang for her mother, yet unsure how she would return now—what face would she show her family? Kidnapped on her wedding day, now carrying another man’s child...

"Really?" The warmth of meeting a fellow townsman flickered in the air.

The two men put down their chopsticks, listening.

"Why did Miss Fu come to the capital?" Yan’er asked. Was her story the same? If so, she was luckier—she hadn’t...

Fu Ruirui forced an awkward smile. "No reason, I just didn’t want to stay home anymore," she said, her excuse unconvincing.

"I can see you have troubles. But everyone does," Yan’er said. Pan Yueyang was visibly shaken by her words.

Fu Ruirui looked at each of them in turn—Pan Yueyang, Yan’er, Baili Mubai. "Actually, it’s nothing. Since you’re from Yangzhou, have you heard of the Mo family?"

The Mo family? Yan’er stiffened, a reaction not missed by Pan Yueyang and Baili Mubai.

"The Mo family—the wealthiest merchants in Yangzhou Prefecture. Mo Nanzhu..." Fu Ruirui’s voice trailed off with a hint of sorrow.

Unexpectedly, Yan’er picked up the thread. "Indeed, the Mo family is the richest in Yangzhou! On the twelfth of June, ninth year of Jing Emperor of Panlong, the Mo family’s eldest son was to wed the Yan family’s daughter, Yan’er!" Her voice trembled with emotion, tears inexplicably falling.

"What’s wrong?" Fu Ruirui’s eyes widened.

"Sadly, on the day of the wedding, the Mo family arrived with only four sedan bearers and the matchmaker to fetch the bride. If only the Yan family’s daughter had refused to board the sedan!" Yan’er turned away, defiant. "Tell me, if the bride had refused, wouldn’t that have been better?"

"Wanwan..." Fu Ruirui’s heart skipped a beat.

"And the most unexpected thing was, before the Mo family’s sedan even reached them, the bridal procession was attacked by bandits. Pity the Yan family’s eldest daughter..." she recounted her shame and suffering.

Fu Ruirui knew all of this. She knew that Mo Nanzhu was to marry on the twelfth of June, and the bride was not her. In a fit of anger, she had run away from home!

"Who are you!" Fu Ruirui suddenly leapt up.