After Losing My Memory, I Became Sweet - Chapter 8

Zhu Yun didn’t really want to remind Qin Huaichu that if Qin Huaichu intended to eat the piece of steak he had just eaten from, it would mean an indirect kiss.

That thought was a little embarrassing, and it didn’t quite fit his current state of mind.

The eighteen-year-old Zhu Yun might not even have realized such a thing.

Fortunately, after Qin Huaichu picked up the steak, he didn’t plan on eating it—he just set his chopsticks down.

He raised his eyebrows slightly, watching Zhu Yun quietly, as if waiting for the praise Zhu Yun hadn’t managed to say out loud.

Zhu Yun took a sip of water, picked up another piece of steak, and under Qin Huaichu’s watchful gaze, carefully cut off a small piece and put it in his mouth.

This was purely to prevent Qin Huaichu from once again doing something outrageous like stealing his food and leaving behind the risk of an indirect kiss.

After chewing a few times, Zhu Yun finally found his inspiration.

He decided to pretend he hadn’t seen anything just now. Setting down his knife and fork, he gave a thumbs-up:

“Pretty good. The sauce and the doneness of the steak are just right—tender and juicy. I’d say it’s better than most Western restaurants.”

But right after praising, he felt he might have gone a bit overboard, so he quickly lifted his glass of water to cover his guilt.

Through the transparent glass, he saw Qin Huaichu—who seemed to lose his composure for a moment—pick up the steak from his bowl and bite into it without hesitation.

Zhu Yun: “……”

Zhu Yun and Qin Huaichu had never gone through a dating phase. Their marriage was basically just a decision made by their two families. Even the wedding ceremony was just for show, and life after marriage felt even more like being single.

So things like kissing had never happened.

The thought of an indirect kiss shocked Zhu Yun so much that he stayed quiet for the rest of the evening, not saying another word.

Qin Huaichu, on the other hand, didn’t think about the indirect kiss at all. He was more concerned about the steak he had made, which was practically dark cuisine.

The eighteen-year-old Zhu Yun was too kindhearted—even this level of cooking, he could still find something to praise.

After cleaning the kitchen and putting the dishes into the dishwasher, Qin Huaichu stepped out and called Auntie Li.

By then, Zhu Yun had already left the living room. He had run back to the bedroom, pulled down a large rabbit plush from the headboard, hugged it tightly in his arms, and absentmindedly scratched the fur on its head.

That big rabbit had been a birthday gift from his high school classmates when he turned fifteen.

Somehow, Qin Huaichu had brought it over from Zhu Yun’s other house.

He probably thought that since Zhu Yun was “eighteen” now, he would like playing with stuffed toys.

Instead of going back to the bedroom right away, Qin Huaichu fetched a set of pajamas from the closet and went to shower.

As he washed, he carefully replayed the day in his mind—playing ball with Zhu Yun, having dinner. Zhu Yun had been perfect, flawless, while he himself hadn’t performed nearly as well.

He could do better, Qin Huaichu thought.

At the very least, while Zhu Yun had lost his memory, he ought to show something of himself, so he wouldn’t be left with regrets later.

What those regrets were, or why he felt he had to prove himself, he didn’t think too deeply about.

The hot water pouring down from the showerhead soon scattered his thoughts anyway.

When Qin Huaichu returned to the bedroom in navy blue pajamas, he saw a pale yellow lump propped against the headboard.

He thought it was Zhu Yun’s pajamas, but on a closer look, realized it was the big rabbit plush.

Zhu Yun, on the other hand, was wearing a set of white pajamas, hiding behind the rabbit so that only his slender, fair wrist showed.

Qin Huaichu was a little surprised. At 183 cm tall, Zhu Yun could still sometimes look so small.

Then he wondered—why insist on putting that rabbit plush in their bedroom?

“I saw it on the headboard, so I took it down,” Zhu Yun peeked out from behind the rabbit with one eye. “Did you buy it?”

Qin Huaichu looked at the toy in silence for a while. Honestly, it was Zhu Yun’s personal belonging, and it had little to do with him.

Zhu Yun’s other apartment had a whole collection of plushies, and a few days ago Qin Huaichu had brought some over to the marital home.

Looking at the row on the nightstand now, he realized there might be too many.

Instinctively, he reached out, intending to put them away—into storage, a box, anywhere for Song Xiang to deal with tomorrow.

But just as he reached forward, Zhu Yun suddenly sat up from behind the rabbit, blocking his hand, looking a little anxious.

For some reason, Qin Huaichu had the sudden thought that maybe these plushies really meant something to Zhu Yun.

Perhaps he could start from the plushies to understand him better.

That might count as “going along with his interests.”

Qin Huaichu drew his hand back and silently stood by the bed, looking down at Zhu Yun.

Zhu Yun lowered his head, stroking the rabbit’s ear, and asked softly: “Do you think I’m childish?”

Qin Huaichu was startled. “Why do you say that?”

“Like you said, I’m twenty-five already, but I still like these fluffy things. Isn’t it kind of… unfitting for my age?” Zhu Yun asked in a small voice.

Qin Huaichu replied calmly, “But your mental age right now is only eighteen. It’s perfectly normal to like this sort of thing.”

“Really?” Zhu Yun’s eyes lit up. He stood up on the bed, arms outstretched toward the row of plushies on the nightstand. “I really like plushies. I used to have a whole wall of them in one of my rooms.”

His gaze was full of longing.

Qin Huaichu made a soft sound of agreement and sat down at the bedside.

“I’ve been to that room,” he said quietly.

His fingers curled slightly—he realized he’d just had the impulse to reach out and hold Zhu Yun’s hand.

“If you like, I can buy more tomorrow and build you another plushie wall,” he added.

Zhu Yun’s eyes widened. “Gege, you really spoil me.”

Qin Huaichu: “……”

To him, it didn’t feel like anything to fuss about. He didn’t even need to do it personally.

Did that really count as spoiling?

Looking at Zhu Yun’s shining eyes, his expression grew complicated. He even wondered—had Zhu Yun’s childhood not been happy? Was that why he reacted so strongly to even the smallest kindness?

But from what he knew of the Zhu family, “wealthy” wasn’t enough to describe their life of privilege. A whole kingdom of plush toys would have been nothing for them.

By comparison, Qin Huaichu had built everything from scratch himself. In terms of background, his own past was much humbler than Zhu Yun’s.

As with the last time Zhu Yun asked if he liked him, Qin Huaichu chose silence.

But this time, Zhu Yun wasn’t so easily fooled.

He put down the rabbit and sat cross-legged on the bed, looking up at him with innocent eyes. “Gege, can you tell me about how we fell in love?”

Qin Huaichu closed his eyes for a moment. He knew this question was coming—just not so soon.

In just a few seconds, he came up with a solution: to distract Zhu Yun by bringing up something else he cared about.

“Back at Mingtu, didn’t you want to see our marriage certificate?” he asked as he stood up. “I’ll get it for you.”

Conveniently, some of his important documents, including the certificate, were locked in the safe in his study.

At the mention of the marriage certificate, Zhu Yun blinked and, sure enough, forgot about the love story. He waited obediently on the bed.

Qin Huaichu fetched his copy from the safe, relocked it, and returned to the bedroom to hand it over.

“This is my copy. Yours should be with you somewhere. Once your memory returns, you’ll naturally find it,” Qin Huaichu said.

Silently, he added in his heart: Or maybe, once your memory returns, you won’t even want to bring it up again.

Zhu Yun opened the little red booklet and set it on the blanket in front of him. Leaning forward on his knees, he studied every word carefully, before finally staring at the wedding photo.

The marriage certificate itself was simple—names, registration date, certificate number.

The photo was set against a deep red background. The two of them weren’t standing too close, nor were they smiling happily. But with such flawless faces, the photo was undeniably beautiful.

Zhu Yun stared at Qin Huaichu’s cold, unsmiling face in the photo for a long time, thinking that this Qin Huaichu was just as unlikable as he remembered.

But the Qin Huaichu in front of him, looking a little uneasy under his gaze, was much more interesting.

Slowly, Zhu Yun reached out and tapped one finger against the face in the photo.

Qin Huaichu stepped closer. “What is it?”

Zhu Yun let go and held up the booklet, showing him: “Look, I have a dimple here.”

In the photo, the corner of his lips was slightly raised. Though his eyes lacked genuine joy, the dimple on his left cheek was visible.

Qin Huaichu glanced at the photo, then at Zhu Yun’s glowing eyes, and nodded. “Yes, you do have a dimple.”

Zhu Yun set the certificate down, lowered his head to think, then peeked up at Qin Huaichu.

And Qin Huaichu realized the question he thought he had dodged was coming right back.

“Didn’t you say before that everyone who saw our wedding photo thought we were a good match?” Zhu Yun asked softly.

Qin Huaichu: “……”

He had once again shot himself in the foot.

Forcing himself, he answered firmly: “We are a good match.”

“But you didn’t look very happy in the photo,” Zhu Yun pressed.

“I look like that in every photo,” Qin Huaichu replied earnestly. “I just don’t like smiling.”

Zhu Yun stared at him for so long that Qin Huaichu nearly lost control of his own expression, until finally Zhu Yun muttered: “That does seem to be the case.”

Qin Huaichu gave a small grunt of agreement, took the certificate from him, and casually set it on the desk.

“It’s late. Time to sleep,” he said in a gently persuasive tone.

“But I still want you to answer one more question—” Zhu Yun dragged out his words, almost pleading.

Qin Huaichu thought grimly: Don’t tell me he still wants the love story.

Expressionless, he said: “Ask.”

“What do you like about me?” Zhu Yun asked directly, a faint blush spreading across his cheeks.

Qin Huaichu froze.

He thought it was unreasonable. Zhu Yun was the one who had first said that he liked him—he himself had never admitted it.

So how did it jump straight to what he liked about him?

Clenching his teeth, Qin Huaichu answered in a low voice: “I like that you’re… cute.”

Zhu Yun tilted his head, surprised.

At twenty-five, no one had ever called him cute before.

He glanced at the wedding photo on the desk, remembering the dimple he had shown.

All right then—he’d take Qin Huaichu’s words as true.

“Sleep,” Qin Huaichu said, getting into bed on the other side. They each had their own blanket.

He turned off the lights and added casually, “Tomorrow I have to go into the office. I took a day off today, so there’s a lot that needs my attention.”

Zhu Yun didn’t mind. “Okay.”

He had already lost plenty of time today. While Qin Huaichu was at work tomorrow, he could sneak back to his studio.

As Qin Huaichu busied himself with business, he would have time to continue with his designs.

After a pause, Qin Huaichu added, “You should come with me to the office.”

Zhu Yun: “?”

Qin Huaichu: “I won’t feel at ease leaving you home alone.”

Zhu Yun: “……”

Author’s Note:

Constantly in danger of exposure.

The author accidentally tested positive (for COVID). Fortunately, I still have a stockpile of drafts to hold us over TAT.

Once again, babies, remember to take care and protect yourselves.