After Losing My Memory, I Became Sweet - Chapter 1

Qin Huaichu got off the plane and rushed straight to Mingkang General Hospital, still wearing the tailored suit he had on from the auction earlier.

Seven hours ago, at the auction site, Qin Huaichu had heard the news that his spouse of two years, Zhu Yun, had been hospitalized.

When the housekeeper told him that Zhu Yun was not in any life-threatening danger, he hung up the call.

After that, Qin Huaichu had his assistant book him a flight back to Mingshi, scheduled right after the auction ended.

From leaving the auction, to arriving at the airport, checking in, and boarding, he didn’t waste a single minute.

Qin Huaichu had always been strict about time. Even now, arriving at the hospital, what he thought about was how long it would take to complete this hospital visit.

Then, maybe he could fit in an impromptu dinner engagement nearby.

Stepping out of the inpatient elevator, he saw Auntie Li standing in the hallway, wiping away tears.

Qin Huaichu paused slightly, but showed no emotion, walking calmly up to her and asking in a low voice,
“Auntie Li, how is he?”

“I’ve been here for hours, but he still hasn’t woken up.” Auntie Li’s eyes were red with tears. “Mr. Zhu locked himself in the studio yesterday. I put his dinner at the door and left. Today I saw that the meal hadn’t been touched at all. I didn’t realize anything was wrong until then… Who knows how long he’d been unconscious—”

Zhu Yun’s house had a separate studio, and when he was drawing designs, he always locked himself inside.

And only Zhu Yun had the key to that studio.

“It’s not your fault, don’t blame yourself.” Qin Huaichu consoled flatly.

From her words, he pieced it together: Zhu Yun had probably neglected food and rest while sketching, causing cerebral hypoxia. Being in an enclosed room only worsened his condition.

As long as he was rescued in time, it shouldn’t be too serious.

Prepared for the worst, Qin Huaichu pushed open the ward door.

Just then, the doctor was stepping out, removing his stethoscope.

Qin Huaichu nodded politely: “Dr. Feng.”

Zhu Yun was in a VIP ward, and this department’s chief physician, Dr. Feng, happened to be acquainted with Qin Huaichu’s father and was an authority in his field.

Dr. Feng looked up at Qin Huaichu, sighed, and patted his shoulder, motioning him into the hallway.

“Huaichu, you need to be mentally prepared,” Dr. Feng said.

Qin Huaichu’s heart clenched, though his face betrayed nothing.

He’d heard those very words ten years ago—when his mother was critically ill, also under Dr. Feng’s care.

Back then, Dr. Feng had saved her, but six months later she relapsed and passed away.

That memory surged back now, making Qin Huaichu brace for the worst regarding Zhu Yun’s condition.

In the silence of those few minutes, he was already imagining what he would do if his spouse died.

Sensing his tension, Dr. Feng quickly added,
“Don’t worry. Mr. Zhu’s vital signs are normal. Waking up is only a matter of time.”

Qin Huaichu pressed his lips together. “Then what did you mean, telling me to be mentally prepared?”

“Fainting with no detectable abnormality is the most difficult to treat,” Dr. Feng said gravely. “The hospital will of course do its utmost to find the cause, but as his family, you need to take responsibility—stay with him, look after him until he recovers.”

Clearly, even Dr. Feng had heard about Qin Huaichu and Zhu Yun’s nominal, hollow marriage.

Qin Huaichu entered the room, standing by the white hospital bed.

He idly mulled over that word—family.

In two years of marriage, they had spent less than a week sharing the same bed.

That one week included the drunken wedding night when he woke to find Zhu Yun beside him, and the times when Zhu Yun’s parents visited, forcing them to put on an act as a loving couple.

The rest of the time, they rarely even saw each other.

As for “staying by his side”—that had never happened.

Looking down at the unconscious Zhu Yun, pale-faced with closed eyes, Qin Huaichu thought:

So fragile, so delicate-looking.

Yet he also remembered Zhu Yun’s sharp, uncompromising nature when awake—completely at odds with that soft face.

Their cold detachment had been the best way to maintain peace.

Even if Qin Huaichu tried to stay with him in the hospital, Zhu Yun probably wouldn’t agree.

Memories of their years as business rivals surfaced, battles fought in boardrooms and negotiations.

Just then, Zhu Yun’s brows furrowed faintly, breaking his train of thought.

Qin Huaichu stepped closer. As he raised his hand, he accidentally brushed against a bouquet above the bed. A petal slipped free, drifting down to rest on Zhu Yun’s forehead.

His fingers twitched, but he didn’t reach for it.

He simply stood there, watching the petal on that pale skin.

Zhu Yun’s skin was porcelain fair, his lashes long and fine. With the red petal on his brow, his sickly face gained a fragile beauty.

For the first time, Qin Huaichu really looked at him.

And his impression was—Zhu Yun looked better asleep than awake.

When he noticed Zhu Yun’s lashes trembling, he realized he’d been staring. He quickly looked away, checking his watch.

Ten minutes had already passed.

If Zhu Yun wasn’t waking soon, he should arrange for his assistant Song Xiang to hire a professional caretaker.

But his thumb hovered over his phone without pressing the call.

Then he heard a faint sound from the bed.

Zhu Yun stirred, coughing lightly, curling his body as though uncomfortable. The petal slipped onto the blanket.

After a hesitation, Qin Huaichu picked it up, brushing the quilt with his hand.

“Do you… want some water?” he asked awkwardly.

Could someone unconscious even hear?

To his surprise, Zhu Yun extended an arm from under the blanket, brushing away Qin Huaichu’s fingers—an unmistakably disdainful gesture.

Qin Huaichu withdrew his hand. That was exactly the reaction he’d expected.

Even when forced to share a bed, Zhu Yun always demanded separate blankets, refusing any physical contact.

So, it seemed he was about to wake.

As if confirming his thought, Zhu Yun’s hand explored the blanket, then touched his face.

Rubbing his eyes, he slowly opened one eye and looked at Qin Huaichu.

He seemed startled to see him, eyes widening.

Qin Huaichu wasn’t surprised. Even he found it odd that he was still here.

“You—” Zhu Yun rasped softly.

“I came back from a business trip, heard you were hospitalized, so I came to check on you,” Qin Huaichu answered matter-of-factly.

“Do you want some water?” he asked again.

Zhu Yun blinked, then gave a small hum of assent.

“Rest well. Don’t stay up working anymore,” Qin Huaichu said flatly, pouring warm water from the dispenser.

Zhu Yun sat dazed on the bed, looking uncharacteristically helpless—something Qin Huaichu had never seen before.

A flicker of pity stirred in him. He was about to hand him the cup, then instead held it to Zhu Yun’s lips.

“Shall I help you up? Or… feed you?”

Zhu Yun looked at him, then nodded.

Not sure which option he meant, Qin Huaichu pressed the cup closer until it touched those faintly red lips.

Zhu Yun obediently lowered his lashes and sipped.

His lashes… really were long.

Qin Huaichu felt oddly distracted the whole time.

“I’ll call the doctor. You need another checkup before you can be discharged.”

After he drank half the cup, Qin Huaichu set it aside, saying calmly.

Zhu Yun wiped his lips with the back of his hand, then glanced at the white wall and asked quietly, “Where… is this?”

“The hospital,” Qin Huaichu replied, assuming he was still groggy.

But Zhu Yun’s voice was softer than usual, carrying a fragile innocence, completely different from his usual cold sharpness.

Qin Huaichu didn’t leave right away. Instead, he asked,
“How long had you been working before this? Our new line isn’t that urgent—you didn’t need to push yourself so hard.”

Zhu Yun blinked blankly. “What are you talking about… work?”

Qin Huaichu froze. That didn’t sound like simple confusion.

Had he… lost his memory?

But that was absurd. There was no accident, no head trauma. Even if disorientation occurred, it should only be temporary.

Qin Huaichu coughed lightly, planning to ask the cliché question from TV dramas: “Do you remember me?”

Before he could, Zhu Yun shrank back against the headboard, eyeing him warily.

“I meant to ask earlier…” Zhu Yun whispered.
“Brother, who are you?”

Author’s Note

This novel is fully drafted in advance.
It’s a marriage-before-love + mutual secret crush story.
The “crush” part will only be revealed later.

The plot exists purely to serve the romance. The background is fictional—just relax and enjoy the sweetness. 🍬

Upcoming story preview — “The Sickly Overlord After Rebirth”

Yu Luo spent two years at Mingdian High School playing the role of the “sickly school tyrant.”

Other tyrants relied on fists. He needed only a glance to make his gang of thugs quake.

Later, during a relapse, he was rushed to the hospital and his heart stopped that night.

While his followers cried and debated what kind of tomb to build for him—he woke up again.

Little brothers: “G-ghost! Don’t come near us!!”

Yu Luo sat up slowly, glanced in the mirror. His lips looked more vivid than ever.

Did this look like a ghost?

After rebirth, he found his limbs intact, his body stronger than before—yet the stronger he grew, the more often he coughed bl00d.

One night, when monsters invaded Shucheng, Yu Luo casually crushed two in his hands.

The next day, students gossiped about the two-meter-eight superhero who saved the city—who oddly looked like Yu Luo.

They turned to see Yu Luo at the back of the class, coughing up bl00d.

Must be a coincidence.

Later, while the city’s monster-hunting squad infiltrated Mingdian High, Yu Luo was caught coughing bl00d in the back mountain by the so-called transfer student, Xu Lifeng.

Yu Luo gave him a lazy glance: “Oh, last night’s loser.”

Xu Lifeng frowned: He wasn’t injured yesterday—so why is he spitting bl00d now?

Later—

Xu Lifeng: “Stay behind me, I’ll protect you.”
Yu Luo scoffed: “Who said you could protect me?”

Even later—

Yu Luo: “I’m tired. Come carry me.”
Xu Lifeng: “…Fine.”
Yu Luo: “I said carry, not hold. And… haven’t you held me long enough?”

• An undying shou vs. a powerhouse gong

• Yu Luo is the shou, though he’d never admit it ^_^

• Pure power fantasy. When he gets ruthless, he’s scarier than the villains. And sometimes, after his heart stops, he plays with other people’s heartbeat instead.