It is over.

She was very anxious, feeling that losing the cactus meant she could not explain herself to that strange boy.
She also felt unaccustomed to the lack of a vibrant splash of green before the window.
Just as Father Ye returned home and noticed her dejected mood, he inquired about the reason and brought back a pot of fortune bamboo from their neighbor, Old Uncle Li.
Ever since then.
Little Ye Mian spent every day leaning against the windowsill, gazing worriedly down the street, pondering how to apologize to the young boy and how to compensate him for the fortune bamboo.
She also prayed that the young boy would forget about the cactus and not come looking for her to settle accounts.
Later, through winds and rains, storms in the old courtyard, blooming flowers, and falling snow, she never saw the boy with the scarred face again.
Day after day.
Both the boy and the cactus faded from her mind.
She grew to love the fortune bamboo by the window even more.
The scene drifted and shifted.
It arrived in a dark room.
Ye Mian looked down at the scene below from a bird's-eye perspective.
Inside a hotel suite nestled in the mountain ravines, once again.
The older version of "herself" was covered in bruises, curled up and hugging herself tightly in the furthest corner of the room.
Jiang Chen stood beside her with clenched teeth and a tightened jaw, his eyes closed as he murmured something.
Then she watched "her" own self raise her head, scrambling forward to grip Jiang Chen's trousers, her voice piercingly shrill: "Mr. Jiang! Oh no! President Jiang, you said you could help me? Good! Fine! I agree, please make me forget all of this, I'm begging you, I'm begging you."
Jiang Chen grasped "her" hand, his voice heavy and dark, as if containing immense agony: "Alright, don't be afraid."
The dream shifted.
Another hazy, misty darkness, devoid of a single ray of light.
The sound of a blade dropping to the ground.
Followed by a distant, deep, and raspy male voice.
Filled with a bizarre and intense amusement.
"Rest assured, everything is over."
...
The next morning.
Ye Mian awoke, feeling her rapid heartbeat.
She sensed a warm and damp tickle against her earlobe.
Her head throbbed with persistent waves of pain.
Reaching out to touch, her fingertips brushed against moisture.
She had cried in her dream.
This dream, too, consisted of memories she had never possessed before.
Yet she believed in them implicitly.
These events had truly played out in her past life.
She now had a deeper understanding of these dreams.
In her past life, she must have been hypnotized as well.
Furthermore, she had begged Jiang Chen to help her undergo hypnosis.
She had willingly erased all unpleasant memories.
Along with them, Jiang Chen had vanished from her memory.
Leaving behind only the facade of a peaceful and smooth existence, while she herself became aimless and melancholic.
Ye Mian thought that given how her past-life self had never experienced life and death, possessing a cowardly and sensitive nature, making such a choice was not all that strange.
What piqued her curiosity even more was the final sentence that had drifted out.
Vaguely hinting at the underlying truth.
Everything is over?
Over with what?
Ye Mian did not understand.
Sitting on the soft bedsheets, she racked her brain for a long while, only to reap a worsening headache.
Consequently, she drew the curtains shut to block out all the light, buried herself in her pillows, and greedily hoped to pick up where the previous dream had left off.
Please, oh please!
Let her have a continuous dream.
Let her remember something.
Half an hour later, drowsiness overtook her.
And she dreamed, just as she wished.
She dreamed that she had turned into a little pink-skinned piglet, excitedly rooting against a white sofa while making "oink oink oink" pig noises.
To her surprise, Ye Mian understood the meaning behind the squeals:
Root for Jiang Chen! Root for Jiang Chen!
Ye Mian: "...???"
Then, her perspective shifted, and she was scooped up by Jiang Chen. Held tightly in his arms, she wriggled excitedly.
Next, she heard Jiang Chen's voice, brimming with extreme tenderness.
"Take this fattest one and roast it."
...
Ye Mian scrambled out of bed drenched in sweat, feeling as though she had genuinely been taken away and roasted.
What kind of ghost dream was this?!
Feeling a dry, aching pain in her throat, Ye Mian dared not dream any longer. She climbed out of bed, walked over to the desk, and took a sip of water.
Her cup happened to feature the pattern of a little pink pig.
...
She used to think it was quite cute.
Now, no matter how she looked at it, it felt glaringly offensive.
For the next month, Ye Mian made video calls to Jiang Chen every day. She did not drive the Rolls-Royce he had left behind, yet Lin Shan acted as if he had nothing better to do, serving as her personal driver.
He was even meticulous enough to memorize her class schedule by heart.
Never once late.
In the spring of April, rain was as precious as oil, and the breeze gently brushed past.
Ye Mian sat in the Bentley driven by Lin Shan. It was precisely eight o'clock in the morning, and she yawned as she looked at the energetic Lin Shan.
After hesitating for a long moment, she could not help asking: "Mr. Lin, may I ask how much Jiang Chen pays you each month?"
How much money could possibly make him this meticulous? Memorizing class schedules, chauffeuring, buying breakfast, preparing water—he was practically one step away from attending classes in her place.
It made her hesitant to linger at school, terrified of delaying Lin Shan's work and keeping him waiting too long.
Lin Shan drove the car, the morning light casting across his face. No matter how one looked at him, he appeared to be a sunny, cheerful... muscular man.
Faced with this question, he gave a mysterious smile and quoted a figure.
Ye Mian, who had been drinking milk, bolted upright in shock: "You said how much??"
Lin Shan repeated himself: "Eighty thousand."
?
??
Ye Mian pulled out her phone in astonishment.
Lin Shan raised an eyebrow in surprise: "Miss Ye, do you not believe me? I never lie, you don't need to verify this with my boss."
Ye Mian shook her head with a grave expression: "I believe you, you certainly wouldn't deceive me."
"Then what's with the reaction?"
"I was wondering if I could ask Jiang Chen to fire you so I can apply for the job instead."
Lin Shan: "???"
Seeing his dumbfounded expression, Ye Mian could no longer hold back her laughter.
Having played the role of passenger and driver for so long, they were already quite familiar with each other, and joking around made the journey pass much faster.
As the April breeze swept across Wenda University, the flora and fauna within seemed to revive overnight, infusing the entire campus air with the romantic scent of daffodils.
Today, Ye Mian wore a pure white T-shirt paired with floor-sweeping wide-leg pants, her hair tied into a ponytail, giving her the bright, sunny, and youthful appearance of youth.
She attended her three classes at school as usual.
Specifically calling Lin Shan to inform him that she would be having lunch with her roommates at the cafeteria and that he didn't need to pick her up—or if he did, it would have to be much later.
After finishing her meal.
Qin Fei Fei and Wang Xiang flanked her, each linking an arm as they walked toward the school gate. Suddenly, a heavy motorcycle roared forward, screeching to a halt half a meter away from Ye Mian.
The three of them froze in place with fright, and the quick-reacting Wang Xiang already let out a shrill scream.
The person on the motorcycle removed his helmet, gloved hands running through his hair, and looked at Ye Mian with a grin, revealing two eye-catching canine teeth and dimples.
"Senior, I'm here. Add me on WeChat, won't you?"
Ye Mian, whose mind had just been jolted into a brief explosion, had now regained her wits.
It wasn't that her psychological resilience was particularly strong; rather, Qin Fei Fei beside her had been scared witless and subconsciously gripped her hand tightly.
The pain completely overshadowed the fear.
Frowning, she looked at the flamboyant boy before her, feeling somewhat annoyed.
"Not adding you."
Fu Ziheng always gave her a somewhat silly and naive impression. Parking his motorcycle so aggressively close just to ask a girl for her WeChat.
Such a brainless stunt was entirely something he was capable of doing.
And all for some meaningless wager.
Thank you all for the rankings tomorrow, but my monthly votes and comments are so low, please help me out!!!
(End of this chapter)