After Losing My Memory, I Marked My Cold White Moonlight - Chapter 3

“Why did it take so long? Where did you go?” Keke hurried over, her tone urgent.

“Nowhere.” Luo Ning’s eyes were slightly red, though there was no visible trace of tears on her face.

“Why are your cuffs rolled up? Did they get wet? Do you need a tissue?” Keke walked over sympathetically, noticing the water stains on Luo Ning’s pants and sleeves.

Luo Ning shook her head, frowning as she stared at her cuffs. She had scrubbed them clean, so why did they still feel so dirty? Ugh, how annoying.

Keke watched Luo Ning lower her head in silence, feeling too guilty to meet her eyes. While Luo Ning was away, Keke had spent a long time negotiating with the company’s higher-ups. She had hoped to use today’s incident as an excuse to withdraw from the dating show, but unfortunately, the executives refused.

The show had to go on—after all, none of the agencies involved wanted to pay the breach-of-contract fees, nor did they want to offend the platform over this matter.

Still, Keke had managed to secure some concessions. The whole mess had started because of miscommunication between Starlight Entertainment and Pan-Asia Entertainment, leading to Luo Ning’s schedule being mixed up. She had been mistakenly placed in the supporting cast for training, where jealous rivals took the opportunity to kick her while she was down, and the on-site director had singled her out unfairly.

Luo Ning had originally signed on as a main guest, and now Pan-Asia had shifted the blame to the production team, demanding an explanation for Luo Ning. Keke had seized the moment to lay down her own terms.

“How could they mess up the contract details and schedule like this? What is Pan-Asia even thinking?” Keke worked for Starlight Entertainment, while Pan-Asia was one of the agencies holding Luo Ning’s management rights. However, Pan-Asia had more influence than Starlight, so Luo Ning’s show contracts and endorsements were usually handled by them. Such a glaring mistake made Keke suspect someone at Pan-Asia was targeting Luo Ning.

“Don’t worry, we won’t let this slide. From now on, all your work on the show will be managed exclusively by Starlight Entertainment. Pan-Asia even returned the Weibo account they’d been withholding for a year. So in a way, we’ve turned misfortune into a small victory—though I’m sorry you had to go through all this.” Keke still felt guilty. If only she had been more capable, Luo Ning’s comeback would have been triumphant from the start.

“It’s not your fault. The contract issues had to be resolved sooner or later.” Luo Ning shook her head, her obedient demeanor only making Keke’s heart ache more.

Keke sighed. A bunch of nobodies who hadn’t even tasted success had ganged up to bully her artist. She wouldn’t forget this.

“Don’t worry, I’ll contact the head director of Like Love later. Since we’re making a comeback, let’s make it spectacular. I’m sure your fans are still waiting for you.” Luo Ning’s supporters must still be out there.

Luo Ning lowered her head, as if recalling something, and let out a self-deprecating laugh. The wave of self-loathing she had been suppressing now crested. “No, she won’t be waiting for me. It’s my fault.” Without waiting for Keke’s response, she walked to the car alone.

Keke stood there, puzzling over Luo Ning’s words. She only knew that when Luo Ning first woke up, she had found something on her phone—something about an ex-girlfriend or ex-wife.

Luo Ning had even asked Keke indirectly if she knew anything about it. But during the entire year Luo Ning spent recovering, no one had come to visit. Could it have been a contractual marriage? Or had they already separated?

Given Luo Ning’s family background, it wasn’t impossible for the Luo Group to arrange a business marriage for her. But why did it seem like the other party didn’t care, while Luo Ning had been the one who fell in love for real?

After getting in the car, Keke thought for a moment and cautiously said, “Ningning, look how long it’s been—this person hasn’t come to see you even once. It’s clear they weren’t sincere. Why are you still holding onto someone like that?”

Luo Ning suddenly sat up straight and spoke seriously to Keke, “No, the fault is mine. It’s only right that she doesn’t forgive me. We had already stopped contacting each other before my accident. She’s a good person—don’t speak of her like that.”

Keke suddenly wondered if this girl had been deceived by someone: “You have amnesia—how could you remember anything before the accident? Don’t tell me someone’s misleading or tricking you!”

Luo Ning shook her head. “No one told me. There are photos of us and other things in my phone. In any case, it’s all my fault. I was terrible to her in the past—that’s why she left me.”

Seeing Luo Ning’s insistence, Keke didn’t want to argue and could only nod helplessly. “Fine. Since you two aren’t in contact anymore, you should stop dwelling on it. Like Love is a dating show—there’s no avoiding shipping couples. What if later…”

Luo Ning understood Keke’s concern. She was worried about negative rumors surfacing—dating shows feared nothing more than participants with unresolved emotional baggage. But Keke was mistaken. The one clinging to those faint memories, refusing to let go, was Luo Ning herself. The one unwilling to leave the industry, doing everything to make a comeback just to stand beside Lin Yuan again—was also her.

If there was even the slightest chance to see Lin Yuan again, even if Lin Yuan already despised her and wanted nothing to do with her, Luo Ning would cling to that one-in-a-million hope just to catch another glimpse of her.

She also needed to personally verify their shared past. The mistakes she had made could never be undone, but in the future, she would do everything in her power to atone to Lin Yuan.

Keke glanced at Luo Ning, lost in memories again, and sighed. “Have you been seeing your therapist lately? Any improvement in your symptoms?”

Luo Ning lowered her head without answering, rubbing her hands once more with the disinfectant alcohol in the car and checking her sleeves and pant cuffs—a clear sign of resistance.

Keke frowned slightly at the sight of Luo Ning’s reddened hands.

“Are you really keeping up with your therapy?” Keke asked skeptically.

Luo Ning looked up innocently. “Of course. You can check my medical records if you don’t believe me.”

“You always use that line on me. It’s not that I don’t trust you—I just want you to take this seriously. I never want to see you collapsed and unconscious on the floor again.” The memory of Luo Ning’s PTSD episode still sent a chill down Keke’s spine.

On the first night after Luo Ning was discharged and returned home, Keke had only stepped out briefly for essentials. A thunderstorm delayed her return, and she found Luo Ning pale and unconscious on the floor.

At the hospital, they learned Luo Ning suffered from severe PTSD, triggered by specific environments, along with mood disorders and obsessive-compulsive tendencies. The doctor advised complete rest until her symptoms fully subsided—if possible.

But contracts didn’t allow it, and Luo Ning herself was eager to return. All Keke could do was ensure she attended therapy.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of myself.” Luo Ning tilted her head, hands clasped behind her back, smiling obediently—a flash of her little canine tooth between pale lips.

Keke sighed with a helpless smile. There was no winning with her. Still just a kid. If only she were more capable—strong enough to protect her properly.

At the same moment, the gossip section of a well-known forum was unusually active.

Big tea, come quick, burning in half an hour.

Waiting for the tea.

A certain two-character L-named top star has made a comeback; heard she’s a guest performer on a popular variety show. Looks like her resources have declined—could it be that she was abandoned by her sugar daddy after a disfiguring car accident? Heard she got scolded by the on-site director until she couldn’t lift her head. How the mighty have fallen.

L-named top star? Lol, you mean the kind whose fans are all bought and no one actually cares? Do your research before spilling. There are only two universally acknowledged two-character L-named top stars, one A and one O. Your tea is weak, refund please.

Before flaming OP, check the keywords—car accident. Could it be the A one? Code word: legal offender?

Holy sh1t, no way? I thought she was in jail. How is she still allowed to make a comeback? Your industry’s moral standards are rock-bottom if someone like her can still earn money.

It’s been a year already, with people constantly saying she’s in jail. Where’s the verdict? Where’s the official notice? Can’t you see the huge clarification from her studio?

Her studio hasn’t been online in almost a year, FYI.

Wait, isn’t anyone curious about which show it is?

Already decoded, deleting post.

Not long after the gossip broke, “Luo Ning disfigured” was suddenly bought onto the trending list. Several entertainment influencers went live claiming they’d personally seen Luo Ning’s resources decline due to disfigurement, reduced to being an extra on set. They spun vivid tales but provided zero photos.

On-site staff also corroborated the rumors, saying her face was beyond recognition—even with plastic surgery, it couldn’t be restored, and she was hideous now.

Luo Ning’s fans exploded. Spreading jail rumors was bad enough, but now they’re fabricating disfigurement stories?

Her fans flooded the hashtag with Luo Ning’s past glamour shots. Not only that, but they also collectively bought the hashtag “Luo Ning stunning beauty” and pushed it straight to the top of the trending list.

“This is utterly vicious. Not only are they spreading disfigurement rumors, but they’re also pushing plastic surgery narratives—either way, the haters will have ammunition. If I hadn’t gotten the studio and Weibo account back today, this would’ve been tacit confirmation. We need to take photos and post on Weibo immediately to crush these lies,” Keke instructed the makeup artists and stylists to spring into action.

Luo Ning adjusted the eyepatch covering her right eye. Due to intracranial bl00d clots pressing on her optic nerve, she had to wait for natural absorption—timeline uncertain. Following doctor’s orders, she wore the patch to protect her vision.

“What if we only photograph half her face? Just the left side?” Keke worried that releasing images of Luo Ning wearing the eyepatch now might invite accusations of capitalizing on the situation or “proof” of disfigurement.

“I don’t think it affects her looks. We should show her full face—otherwise, people will fixate on this when she appears on the show later. Besides, we have all the medical reports. Post the diagnosis too to shut the haters up,” the stylist chimed in.

Luo Ning scrolled through the comments, then said after consideration, “Post a back-view photo. Since they want to speculate, let’s give them ample room for imagination. Whether I’m disfigured or not, beautiful or ugly—let them guess. Contact the production team and have them post simultaneously.”

Sure enough, the director and producer of Like Love were also keeping an eye on things. Seeing Luo Ning trending high, they realized that despite her over-a-year-long absence from the entertainment industry, her popularity hadn’t waned. They quickly agreed to the request, not only officially announcing Luo Ning’s participation in the show but also taking the opportunity to debunk rumors.

The official Weibo account of Love Like a Movie praised Luo Ning for her professionalism, noting that she had specially arranged time to familiarize herself with the show’s procedures by training with the crew and getting along well with everyone.

In the comments section, they even added, “Another day conquered by Ningning’s beauty. blushing face.jpg”

Luo Ning’s studio promptly liked the comment and reposted the announcement of her participation.

Meanwhile, Luo Ning’s long-dormant Weibo account suddenly posted a photo of her back. In the picture, she stood on a balcony, gazing at the distant city lights, her waist-length hair cascading like dark seaweed down her back, the ends slightly curled. The elegant proportions of the shot made the simple image look effortlessly chic and sophisticated. The caption was just three simple yet meaningful words: “Missed me?”

Within a minute, the post had over 30,000 likes, 10,000 reposts, and thousands of comments.

At first, Keke was puzzled—why post a backshot instead of a front-facing photo? But after seeing countless threads speculating about whether Luo Ning’s face had been disfigured, she realized that the backshot only fueled the intrigue.

Keke’s phone started buzzing nonstop with congratulatory messages, invitations, and subtle probes about Luo Ning’s recovery. She brushed them all off and was about to update Luo Ning when she noticed her staring blankly at an obscure fan community.

“Yuan’s Home, Luo’s Path…” Keke muttered, squinting at the name. “What kind of lame fan page is this? Even the pun is overused.”

Luo Ning shot her a cold glare before turning and walking into her room. Keke was about to search for the page herself when a call from the CEO of Starlight Entertainment came through. Delighted, she hurried to answer and share the good news.

“Yuan’s Home, Luo’s Path” was an obscure, barely-ranked fan community dedicated to Luo Ning and Lin Yuan’s pairing. Though niche, it still had a small but dedicated following of admirers.

With Luo Ning’s return, the usually quiet community suddenly sprang to life. A few active shippers went all out posting, with one even photoshopping Luo Ning’s backshot together with Lin Yuan’s red-carpet photo—as if Luo Ning were gazing up at her own starlight.

Luo Ning’s finger lightly traced over the edited image of her and Lin Yuan. “Lin Yuan…”

“Yuan, what are you looking at?” Luo Yiyang asked, watching the captivating omega before him.

“Nothing,” Lin Yuan replied coolly, turning off her phone screen. Her aloof, icy demeanor was a stark contrast to the sweet, charming omegas popular at the time.

Lin Yuan had what people called a “villainess face”—sharp, intelligent features paired with an air of detachment. Her clean jawline and slightly upturned eyes made her ambition unmistakable briefly.

Yet her cold, distant aura created an untouchable mystique, leaving room for endless imagination.

Luo Yiyang was exactly like this—wishing he could forge a golden cage to imprison her within, yet also yearning to kneel at her feet, begging for her affection.

Luo Yiyang had fallen in love with Lin Yuan at first sight. For her, he abandoned business for the arts, and with the help of his own talent agency, he poured resources into collaborating with Lin Yuan on a film last year. Their “Yi-Xiang Love Yuan” pairing became a hot topic online.

Yet despite his repeated attempts and numerous confessions, Lin Yuan always rejected him. One moment, she would be laughing and chatting in front of the camera, and the next, she would turn cold as ice. It was precisely this elusive demeanor of hers that drove Luo Yiyang to obsession.

This time, he had finally managed to invite Lin Yuan out to dinner with his friends, terrified that he might say or do something to upset her.

“Luo Ning? She made a comeback. Seems like her company spent a fortune buying trending tags. I remember your relationship wasn’t great—didn’t she once take subtle digs at you? Your fans even got into fights over it, right?” Luo Yiyang was always deeply attentive to matters concerning Lin Yuan.

Lin Yuan didn’t respond, leaning back in the car seat, lost in thought. Luo Yiyang assumed his words hadn’t conveyed enough shared resentment, so he added, “I heard her face was ruined. Look at the photos—they only show her back. She originally rose to fame because of her striking looks. Now that she’s disfigured, why bother coming back just to suffer?”

While driving, Luo Yiyang stole glances at Lin Yuan’s expression. The interplay of light and shadow cast shifting contours across her face, but he couldn’t decipher her thoughts.

Recalling a secret circulating among the wealthy elite and Lin Yuan’s own revelations, Luo Yiyang mused, “Luo Ning comes from a decent family, though it used to be better. Her father was a live-in son-in-law who built his fortune off his first wife’s assets. She died under suspicious circumstances, and the Luo family has plenty of dirty laundry. I heard her father, and her half-sister never treated her well, which is why she kept her background hidden. I only found out through friends I hang out with.”

Lin Yuan had always suspected Luo Ning came from wealth—her refined mannerisms made that clear. But back then, Luo Ning had played her role too well. Neither Lin Yuan, her friends, nor even the breeding center staff had seen through her.

After all, Luo Ning, in her teens, had worn such a pitifully delicate face that everyone assumed she was an undifferentiated omega. That was how she deceived so many, even managing to stay at the breeding center without being expelled by the staff.

She had claimed to love Lin Yuan, yet concealed her alpha identity, even asking if Lin Yuan minded OO relationships. She had hovered around Lin Yuan daily—only to end up marking her best friend, Yan Qiwei.

Lin Yuan clenched her fingers silently, as if recalling some unbearable memory. The cracks in her icy demeanor seemed to widen slightly.

Luo Yiyang rarely saw Lin Yuan show interest in anyone, and a sense of unease crept over him. He pressed further, “I never expected her to step in as a last-minute replacement for Like Love. Did her ruined face make her unfit for the big screen, so she’s trying to cling to variety shows? You were just looking at her Weibo—do you know her, or…?”

Lin Yuan turned her head, her tone frigid. “I don’t know her. Just happened to scroll past it.”

Relieved, Luo Yiyang relaxed. “I didn’t expect her to be on the same show as us. Don’t worry—with me around, she won’t dare bully you.”

Lin Yuan lowered her eyes, seemingly uninterested as she brushed her hair and asked, “Why don’t you tell me about your friends instead…”

Luo Yiyang’s joy was evident when he heard Lin Yuan wanted to know about his friends. Did this mean he was getting closer to her? So Luo Yiyang began praising his friends enthusiastically, not noticing the fleeting shadow that passed through Lin Yuan’s eyes.

The children from the breeding center were growing up, and every year a few would mysteriously disappear. Lin Yuan didn’t believe the explanations given by the administrators—she was determined to uncover the truth herself.

Gone to new families and didn’t want to contact old friends? Ashamed of their origins after climbing the social ladder? She refused to accept the reasons the administrators provided.

Not everyone was like Yan Qiwei, ashamed of their background. She believed the children she’d watched grow up wouldn’t be like that.

And why was it always the higher-ranking omegas who lost contact? It was as if someone was deliberately selecting them.

She wondered if Luo Yiyang’s circle might hold the person—or clues—she was looking for. Hoping this time would yield results, Lin Yuan listened to Luo Yiyang’s introductions while gathering information.

After his glowing praises, Luo Yiyang added confidently, “Yuanyuan, don’t worry. I’ll help you with your agency issues. No matter how much the penalty is, I’ll cover it. Besides, my friends are very capable. Though they’re not in the entertainment industry, they know everything about it.”

Luo Yiyang knew Lin Yuan’s agency was exploiting her severely. This time, because she refused to mentor newcomers, they had withdrawn her assistant and reassigned her manager. A top actress like her left with no one by her side—it was heartbreaking.

With a faint, indifferent gaze, Lin Yuan responded, “Hmm… we’ll see.”