Outside the door, Zhan Nanjue leaned against the doorway of the hospital room, his heart aching.
He knew that someday she would remember. But he didn't expect it to be so soon.
Was it really like Ou Yimo had said, had Gong Shirao seen it with her own eyes? Otherwise, why would she ask about it as soon as she regained her memory? She's not someone who would falsely accuse others.
If she hadn't seen the evidence, she wouldn't have questioned him.
But…
He still couldn't believe that on that night when he felt nothing, he had truly lost himself because Ou Yimo injected him with something?
So, from this moment on, what should he do to hold onto such a Gong Shirao?
He recalled the clothes she threw out.
Looking down, one piece was the clothes he personally tied around her waist that she had worn today.
The other piece was brand new.
It's from the brand he often wore, and a pink shirt he had never worn.
Zhan Nanjue clutched the clothing box, his heart awash with complex emotions.
