Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Qi Tan and I are trending on the hot search list again.

It all started at the Hundred Stars Awards, where the thirty-two-year-old Qi Tan won the Baina Best Actor award for his performance in the film *Daytime Revelry*. After a moving speech about the hardships he’d faced throughout his career, he did something unexpected. In front of a stunned audience, he pulled out a yellowed photograph.

In the video, Qi Tan stares directly into the camera. His flawless face carries a hint of helplessness as he speaks. “Actually, everyone, my partner has been throwing a tantrum and has been missing for a month now. I’d appreciate it if you could all help me find her. Her name is Ning Sangsang.”

His voice was steady, sounding like a man doting on a playful child.

To anyone else, it looked like a heart-melting display of public affection.

But the guests at the awards ceremony were frozen in shock.

Because everyone knew that in 2018, a horrific stabbing had occurred at the City A airport. The perpetrator was a sociopath, and I had been killed on the spot while protecting a child who had been separated from their family.

After the incident, my name stayed on the hot search list for a month.

Naturally, Qi Tan’s name was right there beside mine.

Netizens dug up the fact that Qi Tan and I had been together for twenty-five years. Our families were neighbors, we were childhood sweethearts, and people found sweet snippets of our relationship in the vlogs on Qi Tan’s Weibo. After I died, the world mourned the loss of Ning Sangsang.

But time has a way of quietly washing over the past, making things blurry.

After five years, everyone thought Qi Tan had recovered. Even though he lost thirty pounds in the month after my death; even though he fell into a deep depression six months later; even though Old Yang had stopped him from committing suicide six times-

He still got better.

In the spring of the second year, when the flowers were in bloom, Qi Tan logged onto Weibo for the first time in a year. He posted a selfie and took half an hour to type out sixteen characters:

[I am Qi Tan. Old Yang told me that recovery is the perfect time to meet the spring.]

Qi Tan’s fans flocked to the post immediately.

[Ge, you’re finally back.]

[So, Ge, you’re going to eat well and gain some weight today, right?]

[Chongqing hot pot is really delicious!]

Of course, there were antis who tried to ruin the mood.

[Is the great Best Actor out of money?]

[What about Ning Sangsang? Hey, Mr. Devoted, do you even remember her?]

In the blink of an eye, that comment was buried under layers of indignant rebukes. But to everyone’s surprise, Qi Tan actually saw it.

He replied: [Why wouldn’t I remember Sangsang?]

Sometimes, written words lack emotion; they can’t truly reveal what a person is thinking or doing. At first glance, his reply seemed bold and protective.

In reality, on the other side of the screen, Qi Tan’s gaze was as lost as a child’s.

He asked Old Yang the same question.

With a lump in his throat, Old Yang lied to him, just as he always did. “Just some brainless anti-fan. They have no bottom line, they’ll make up any kind of nonsense.”

The psychiatrist had told him that Qi Tan’s depression hadn’t truly been cured. He had developed a condition similar to a form of Alzheimer’s, where he would subconsciously forget things he wanted to erase. After a year of depression and self-harm, he had accidentally developed a self-defense mechanism triggered by unhappiness.

In other words, Qi Tan was sometimes normal, and sometimes he simply forgot.

Right now, he was in a state of extreme sorrow.

Old Yang had worked with Qi Tan for so many years that he truly felt for this man who had grown up in poverty and loved so deeply. He had once sincerely asked the psychiatrist, “How can I make him happier?”

The answer he got was to let him do what he was best at-

Acting.

Old Yang had been worried about this at first, but he soon realized his fears were unnecessary. Every time Qi Tan arrived at a new set and received a script, he would automatically step into his role, professional and dedicated.

There had only been two incidents in the past few years.

The first was three years ago when Qi Tan was playing a professional hitman. Facing a hardworking young actor who was trembling as part of the scene, Qi Tan suddenly burst into uncontrollable sobs.

The set fell into chaos.

Old Yang hurried Qi Tan back to the dressing room.

Sweat poured down Qi Tan’s face, his expression filled with an anxiety that looked exactly like the day I died. His face was pale, and he bit his lip until it bled.

Old Yang couldn’t do anything to soothe him; he could only stay by his side.

About three hours passed in that small room where a few slivers of light filtered in. Qi Tan suddenly reached out to touch the faint rays. Old Yang thought he was about to forget again, so he asked him about me.

Unexpectedly, Qi Tan asked a different question:

“Old Yang, is the child Sangsang saved that day doing okay?”

Old Yang had seen the child; the parents had always wanted to meet Qi Tan.

He didn’t intend to hide it. “They’re doing well. The kid is in middle school now.”

Qi Tan lowered his eyelashes and nodded, his voice rasping. “That’s good.”

Old Yang could only sigh and pat his shoulder.

In the next instant, the man who had been feigning strength suddenly dropped all his defenses. He became as fragile as a blade of grass. Tears blurred his vision as they fell, his expression twisted in agony.

“But where is my Sangsang?”

“My…” Qi Tan’s throat bobbed. “Where is Sangsang?”

But I could only watch, feeling even more powerless than him.