The Amnesiac Omega Who Reels Me In Every Day – Chapter 110
by Little PandaEven Lingering Regrets Must Be Settled
Jiang Ningshu × Zhao Yan
It was her and Yanyan’s child
With her grades, there was no way Capital University wouldn’t have admitted her. So there was only one possibility: someone had secretly altered her application.
It was Jiang Ya. No one else but Jiang Ya.
She confronted Jiang Ya, nearly hysterical, demanding to know why. Jiang Ya’s answer was that she didn’t know, she hadn’t done it on purpose, and then she kept apologizing endlessly.
Ningshu didn’t know what to do.
If their parents found out that Jiang Ya had altered her application, Jiang Ya would be beaten to death.
And not being able to go to Capital University was already an unchangeable fact.
Ningshu locked herself in her room, refusing to see anyone—including Zhao Yan.
The person she most dreaded facing was Zhao Yan.
Everything the two of them had dreamed about during this time had turned to foam.
Zhao Yan had clearly resolved to aim for Capital University because of her. Zhao Yan had clearly said that she herself was her motivation.
Yanyan would be devastated when she found out.
She truly didn’t know how to explain it to Yanyan.
Unable to reach Ningshu, Zhao Yan rushed to the Jiang family home to find her. Ningshu didn’t have the courage to open the door, so she stood guard downstairs. She didn’t know exactly why Ningshu couldn’t face her, but she could guess at some of the possibilities, offering comfort and telling her it was okay, hoping she could pull herself together.
The more sincere Zhao Yan’s comforting words were, the guiltier Ningshu felt, and the less courage she had to face her.
Whenever she thought about the future the two of them had envisioned while walking home after evening study sessions, Ningshu’s heart ached beyond words.
In the July heat, Ningshu still couldn’t bear to let Zhao Yan stand outside suffering. Fighting back tears, she called down to her: “Yanyan, I need some time to calm down. Can you go home first?”
Zhao Yan didn’t want to leave, but in the end she respected her wishes and went home first, telling her she’d come back tomorrow.
Through the night, Ningshu thought a lot. She decided that when Zhao Yan came to find her, she would tell her everything and let her make her own choice.
But the next day, Zhao Yan never came.
The person who came was Zhao Yan’s father.
It turned out that Zhao Yan had asked around that very day and eventually learned from their homeroom teacher that Ningshu had been admitted to Luo City University. That same night, she told her family she didn’t want to go to the Capital anymore—she wanted to go to Luo City.
The Zhao family had business operations in Luo City too; she wanted to go there and start working directly.
Obviously, the Zhao family did not agree with what they considered an outrageously willful notion.
“I didn’t object to her dating you originally. A bit of fun is fine. But now she wants to make such an absurd decision because of you—I absolutely won’t allow it.”
“You should know what our family does. In a merchant family, a child’s marriage must be used to create value—maximum value.”
“You’re an ordinary commoner. Not only do you bring her no benefit, you’re going to ruin her—making her want to give up university!”
“Since you’ll be in different cities anyway, talk her around and break up. Cut your losses.”
“You’re not from the same world. You’ll never end up together.”
Father Zhao’s words deflated the courage Ningshu had only just managed to summon.
Sleepless all night, she saw Zhao Yan the next day.
Zhao Yan was wearing a short-sleeved T-shirt. She was still so, so clean and beautiful, those eyes exceptionally tender and affectionate.
At first glance she was stunning, and after the stun came fascination—as though wherever she went, she’d be someone’s white moonlight1.
Only now, those affectionate peach-blossom eyes were somewhat swollen, and a handprint marked her delicate, fair cheek.
She had been crying. She had also been struck.
When she saw Ningshu and rushed over to throw her arms around her, sobbing, Ningshu felt her heart shatter.
“Yanyan, don’t cry…”
“It’s okay, Ah Ning. Even if you go to Luo City, it’s fine. I can come be with you…”
Zhao Yan rarely lost her composure like this. She didn’t ask Ningshu why it was Luo City University. She just kept comforting her, telling her she’d stay by her side.
“What nonsense are you saying? How could you give up Capital University? Look at you—your parents hit you, didn’t they? Does it hurt?” Ningshu stroked her cheek and asked softly.
Zhao Yan pressed her hand against Ningshu’s, the one touching her face, remembering a more important question: “Did my dad come say something to you yesterday? Did he yell at you?”
Ningshu laughed through her tears. “Of course not. He just came to ask me for a favor—to talk some sense into you so you won’t give up Capital University.”
Even so, Zhao Yan understood. “Ah Ning… I want to be with you.”
Pleading filled Zhao Yan’s eyes, her tone unbearably pitiful. In the end, Ningshu couldn’t bring herself to do it. “Yanyan, we are together. It’s just four years apart. We can see each other during holidays.”
To break up with her right now—Ningshu truly couldn’t do it.
She couldn’t bear it…
They continued dating, just much more restrained.
One went to Luo City, the other to the Capital—over a thousand kilometers apart. Ningshu thought: the Capital was so vibrant, Capital University had so many brilliant, beautiful people. Yanyan would probably find someone else she liked.
With that thought, Ningshu began forcing herself to bother Zhao Yan less.
But Zhao Yan’s texts and calls came almost every day, and every holiday she’d travel to Luo City to see her.
Every time she came, she brought flowers and gifts, her eyes full of starlight and devotion.
“Ah Ning, I miss you so much.”
“Ah Ning, I dream about you every night.”
Every time she had to leave, Ningshu’s heart felt hollow, as if it had gone with her.
She couldn’t bear it. She really couldn’t bear it.
She felt she’d never meet a girl as wonderful as Yanyan again in her entire life.
In her second year, Zhao Yan not only had classes but also had to learn the family business from her parents. She was busy every day, visited Luo City less often, but still came.
Whenever Ningshu saw her again, she’d notice the dark circles under her eyes and the exhaustion she couldn’t hide.
The exhaustion was real. So was the joy of seeing her.
Only, she started to feel a little aggrieved.
“Ah Ning, you don’t seem to miss me at all. You’ve never come to visit me…”
“Why don’t you ever like calling me? I topped up so much phone credit for you…”
“Have you… stopped liking me as much as before?”
When Zhao Yan said those words, Ningshu’s heart swelled with an unbearable ache. Tears she couldn’t suppress spilled over. So that Zhao Yan wouldn’t see, she turned her face away, not looking at her, not responding to the words that were begging for affection.
She knew it was cruel.
But she truly didn’t have the courage to keep going with Zhao Yan anymore.
Her father’s business had suddenly collapsed, and Father Zhao had noticed Zhao Yan’s frequent trips to Luo City—he’d issued a warning.
It seemed… she truly couldn’t afford to love Zhao Yan.
She didn’t respond to her grievances. After Zhao Yan went back, she never sent her another text or wrote her another letter.
And over the course of several months, the frequency of Zhao Yan’s texts gradually diminished too.
She thought Zhao Yan would understand. She probably already did.
One-sided devotion met with nothing but emotional detachment2—no one could endure that.
She just hadn’t expected that Zhao Yan was far more resolute than she’d imagined.
In the third winter of their long-distance relationship, Zhao Yan flew from the Capital to Luo City.
Today was her birthday.
The eagerness and joy of seeing Ningshu drowned out the sadness of not having received a birthday wish from her.
She hailed a cab and asked the driver to take her to a shopping mall to buy flowers for Ningshu.
She carefully selected ninety-nine roses, wrapped them herself, and wrote a small card by hand.
By the time she left the florist, it was already dark and the temperature had dropped further, but she didn’t feel cold—her whole body flushed warm with excitement and anticipation.
Today wasn’t just about spending her birthday with Ah Ning. She also had good news to share with her.
She’d rehearsed it in her mind countless times—how Ah Ning’s face would light up with surprise when she told her.
But the unexpected always happened in the next second.
She’d merely turned around, and the scene before her stole the breath from her lungs.
Ningshu was in another woman’s arms, so intimate they were kissing.
Just moments ago, Zhao Yan had been lost in a beautiful fantasy—her smile hadn’t even had time to fade.
She didn’t know what she was feeling right now. She thought she must be seeing things, but that face—identical to Ningshu’s—couldn’t be faked.
Ningshu’s face was flushed from the kisses, and under the dim streetlight, it looked especially intimate and suggestive.
The bouquet of roses dropped onto the snow. Zhao Yan stood frozen for several seconds. When the kiss ended, afraid Ningshu would see her, she turned and ran.
She truly didn’t know how she’d stood there those few seconds.
She didn’t even think to grab the flowers.
The sweetness and anticipation, like the flowers abandoned in the snow, slowly froze solid.
Zhao Yan truly didn’t know what to do anymore.
Walking the streets, she seemed to have nowhere to go.
Pulling out her phone, she belatedly realized that Ah Ning hadn’t sent her a text in a very long time. The last time they’d spoken was over a month ago, on the Winter Solstice—she’d called Ningshu to wish her a happy Winter Solstice.
In a daze, she wandered into a bar.
Her clean aura was completely out of place here. She sat alone in a corner, utterly desolate.
After several drinks, she finally gathered the courage to go confront Ningshu and get answers.
“Yanyan, what are you doing here?”
Ningshu was genuinely startled when she saw Zhao Yan. She’d just come in from the snow, covered in its biting cold, with a faint smell of alcohol on her.
Snow clung to the crown of her head, her eyelashes.
She looked like a fairy stepped out of the snow.
The fairy seemed heartbroken, though…
“Am I not supposed to be here?” Zhao Yan demanded, eyes red.
Ningshu was half a beat slow. “I just didn’t expect it.”
Zhao Yan’s eyes reddened further. “Today is my birthday. Why wouldn’t you expect it?”
“I…” Ningshu looked at her, heart twisting like a knife. She lowered her eyes and forced out the words: “I forgot.”
Zhao Yan murmured, repeating: “Forgot…”
How could she forget?
They’d known each other for six years. Even before they were together, Ah Ning would prepare for her birthday for ages, putting her heart into it.
The look in her eyes back then, brimming with love and anticipation.
It should have been carved into her heart along with the love, never to fade.
How could she forget?
Did it disappear along with the love?
“I just saw you kissing another woman.”
Ningshu’s pupils dilated sharply. She’d clearly been home the entire time.
She quickly realized—it was Jiang Ya!
Jiang Ya had a girlfriend?
Ningshu was somewhat surprised.
When she didn’t respond, thick mist welled up in Zhao Yan’s peach-blossom eyes. Her voice trembled, raw with pain. “So that’s why you forgot my birthday?”
Ningshu couldn’t speak.
“Since when has there been someone else?”
“Have you stopped loving me for a long time already?”
“Do you think this is fair to me?” Since they’d started dating, Zhao Yan had never lost control like this. She’d been angry before, but the anger Ningshu caused had only ever been sulking—at most a sharp tone that a few coaxing words could fix.
Never hysterical like this.
Ningshu hadn’t wanted to admit it. She’d clung to the hope that this relationship could last a little longer—that even without contact, even without seeing each other, they were still each other’s only one.
If she didn’t say the word “breakup,” they wouldn’t break up.
She’d thrown herself into studying and working, fantasizing that one day she could catch up to Yanyan’s level and no longer be obstructed.
But it seemed that was all it was—fantasy.
But what was coming would come regardless.
She clenched her teeth, refusing to let tears fall, forcing herself to look heartless as she spat out the cruelest words she could manage: “I thought that after going so long without contact, we’d already broken up by default.”
Broken up by default…
Zhao Yan’s expression shattered.
Yes, Zhao Yan thought. They hadn’t been in contact for over a month.
Why?
Because she’d been busy this whole time—busy with their future. Working until the small hours every night, all to earn early graduation, to meet the targets her parents had set, to prove that she could run the Zhao Corporation excellently without a commercial marriage, bring value to the family, and make the corporation thrive.
To make her parents agree to let her be with Ningshu.
And after all that effort, she’d achieved both.
But… Ningshu didn’t want her anymore.
Could their love really be erased by a single month without contact?
“Back then, you didn’t apply to Capital University because you wanted to dump me, didn’t you?” Zhao Yan stared hard at her, desperate to see even a flicker of denial in her eyes.
To prove that these three years hadn’t been filled with false affection.
But Ningshu lowered her eyes and didn’t answer.
Sometimes, not answering was an answer.
“Say something!” Zhao Yan gripped her arms tightly, forcing her to look up. Ningshu was bruised by the grip, but she didn’t say a word.
Zhao Yan looked at her. Those eyes, so alluring, so captivating—even though they were clearly devoid of feeling, they still seemed to brim with love.
Fueled by alcohol, Zhao Yan pressed her head down and kissed her.
“Mmph—!”
Zhao Yan kicked the door shut and kissed her hard.
Ningshu didn’t struggle. She let her kiss.
She owed her this.
“Jiang Ningshu, Jiang Ningshu…”
Zhao Yan hated her, resented her, weeping as she demanded answers:
“Jiang Ningshu, why, why…”
Why wouldn’t she talk to her properly? Why did her wholehearted devotion have to be trampled like this?
“Jiang Ningshu, I loved you so much…”
“Jiang Ningshu, you must be lying to me…”
“Ah Ning, you clearly loved me so much…”
Zhao Yan’s words fell apart, broken and soaked with tears.
Ningshu bit her lip, unable to answer any of Zhao Yan’s questions.
…
Zhao Yan sat slumped on the floor, leaning against the sofa. Behind her on the cushions lay Ningshu, drained and limp.
They were so close. After the marking, they were saturated with each other’s scent, yet their hearts were miles and miles apart.
“Jiang Ningshu, do you think this is fair to me?”
She heard Zhao Yan’s agonized words and answered in her heart.
Yanyan, I can’t afford to love you.
After a long silence, Zhao Yan stood up. She didn’t even grab her coat and walked toward the door.
“Let’s break up.”
“…Okay.”
Zhao Yan left. She went far away, preserving her last shred of dignity.
After that night, Ningshu endured an agonizing marking period alone, clinging to the coat Zhao Yan had left behind.
Two months later, she discovered she was pregnant.
This was her and Yanyan’s child. How could she bear to abort it?
Alone, she studied and worked at the same time, preparing to raise the child by herself.
She never expected to see Zhao Yan again.
At a company’s press event.
Her slightly rounded belly made Zhao Yan freeze. Zhao Yan asked her whose child it was.
Ningshu recalled what a friend had told her days ago—that Zhao Yan was to enter an arranged marriage with some heiress. She summoned a composed, polite smile.
“Not yours.”
She couldn’t let this child tie Yanyan down.
That was what Ningshu thought.
Later, Zhao Yan went abroad.
For a very long time, there was no more news of her.
Footnotes
- 白月光 | bái yuè guāng | Literally 'white moonlight,' from an Eileen Chang essay describing an unattainable, idealized love that remains forever radiant and unreachable; Chinese internet culture adopted it as shorthand for an unforgettable first love or the one who got away.
- 冷暴力 | lěng bào lì | Literally 'cold violence'—a Chinese psychological term for emotional abuse through withdrawal, silence, and passive aggression rather than physical aggression; encompasses the silent treatment, stonewalling, and deliberate emotional withholding used to punish or control a partner.
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