Sunshine Filled with Thoughts

It was hard for anyone to imagine that Linlin suddenly remembered everything one morning.

It was just an ordinary morning in Beijing. Inside this splendid villa, in the main bedroom belonging to the owners, a magnificent crystal chandelier sparkled with the sunlight streaming through the windows. The European-style vanity was adorned with simple yet luxurious items, which the mistress rarely wore, mostly picking them up to admire before putting them back in place. The floor was covered with a thick handmade carpet. The soft camel-colored fur felt incredibly comfortable underfoot. Clothes and shoes were strewn about on the carpet, hinting at the events of the previous night that must have been quite passionate. The mistress and master lay naked, wrapped in each other’s embrace. Their exposed skin bore the marks left behind by their lovemaking. Those traces of love displayed both affection and passion. Satisfaction graced their faces; one of the man’s arms was tucked under the woman’s head while the other pulled her tightly against him. The skin-to-skin contact provided not just a sense of fulfillment, but also an overwhelming fear of loss and an aching attachment.

When Linlin finally opened her eyes, she felt dazed for a long time, as if she had been struck with a surprise blow. It took her a while to fully awaken. Her slightly confused and shimmering eyes gradually filled with clarity, much like a brook flowing into a still pool of green water, washing away much of the previous murkiness. Until all that remained in her eyes was the bright clarity of the stream.

She slowly removed An Jinmo’s arm that lay across her, realizing he was tired from the previous night and had turned over, seeking a more comfortable position to fall back asleep.

Naked, Linlin stood up, her eyes searching the scattered clothes on the floor. She picked up a bathrobe and wrapped it around herself, taking in the surroundings that felt both strange and familiar. Memories began flooding back to her-sharp flashes of Na Xuan’s smile, An Jinmo’s demeanor, their wedding, the car accident, Yanyan’s grin. She even recalled her university classmate Qing, along with every intimate moment shared with An Jinmo, vivid and unforgettable-all these experiences engraved in her.

A sense of disorientation settled over her as she slowly made her way to the floor-to-ceiling windows. Gently drawing back the curtains, she squeezed herself into a large chair hidden behind them. Crouching there, she stretched her hand to pull the curtains back again, gazing at the scenery outside the house.

It was already eight or nine in the morning. Yanyan had run around the villa twice, and as he grew older, his father had him running more laps.

Yanyan was already over eight years old, small yet possessing a gentleman’s grace. Standing alongside them, he resembled a naturally born little aristocrat, every gesture and word exuding elegance and propriety. When confronted with challenges, he cleverly deflected them, attributing his responses to his young age.

As Linlin gazed outside at the flourishing greenery, she suddenly reflected on her own life. It seemed that since waking up the morning after her first night, she had not experienced a moment of true happiness. Even during her amnesia, when she appeared joyful, it had all been an illusion. How could such an illusion be real?

What was she supposed to do now?

Linlin couldn’t help but ask herself what she had persevered for all these years. She was no longer young; if she were to divorce now, did that mean she would spend the rest of her life single? Or could she really stand by and watch Yanyan grow up in a single-parent household? She couldn’t even bear to imagine what would happen if An Jinmo married another woman-what would happen to her son then? Or whether An Jinmo would let her go.

Returning to An Jinmo’s side after all those years-six years, to be exact! Not too long, yet not too short. She had been his wife for six years, and the feeling of happiness had almost filled the Linlin who had lost her memory every day. But now, she felt as if she had returned to the starting point, although it didn’t quite feel like the beginning.

Her heart was heavy with thoughts.

An Jinmo opened his eyes and instinctively reached out to embrace Linlin’s soft body, but his arms met emptiness. A sense of crisis surged through his mind as he jolted awake, scanning the room and not finding Linlin.

“Linlin?” he called uncertainly, but there was no response.

He quickly got up and put on his clothes, turning to see Linlin sitting behind the curtains. A sense of satisfaction washed over him as he walked over. He bent down and wrapped his arms around her, teasingly saying, “Why are you up so early…”

Linlin didn’t respond; instead, she pushed him away and looked into his eyes. In her clear gaze, there was a depth of emotion. The profound stillness in her eyes made An Jinmo’s heart constrict, and an unsettling premonition suddenly filled him.

He closed his eyes briefly and asked, “Are you still resenting me for Na Xuan’s death?”

His tone was calm, almost devoid of emotion, but only An Jinmo knew how hard he was trying to hold himself together, fighting against an urge to break down.

After all these years, he had been so happy that he was almost forgetting that Linlin had lost her memory. He had almost forgotten this happiness. Was it possible that the time was up? That everything he had gained would be taken back from him?

After a long silence, Linlin finally replied, “No.”

“Then are you going to leave me again?” It was as if he had already prepared for the worst; if she was determined to divorce him, he would no longer object, nor would he stubbornly cling to her.

Tears almost spilled over as An Jinmo used all his strength to hold the woman who completely belonged to him in his arms.

Their love had taken many years to come to a full stop. For both of them, the past had long ago faded; now, looking back, those memories felt yellowed. Since they had grown and journeyed through this world for so long, what would continuing on mean? Linlin had already felt such profound love; if there was no feeling left, it would be incomprehensible.

Fortunately, in the end, the conclusion wasn’t bad.