Fang Nan glanced upstairs subconsciously before standing up: "He's outside. Should we let him in?"

"No need, I'll just go out and talk to him." Yang Qingheng went out, and Fang Nan wisely didn't follow.

"Dr. Xu?" Yang Qingheng opened the car door, and inside was a man with slightly gray hair who looked to be around fifty years old.

"You must be Song Hengjue's girlfriend, hello, hello." Dr. Xu was polite, extending his hand to shake hers, appearing quite warm.

Yang Qingheng pursed her lips: "I heard that Dr. Xu has been Hengjue's private psychologist for many years. You also know about my relationship with Hengjue. I hope Dr. Xu can tell me the truth about the situation."

Dr. Xu glanced at her almost imperceptibly, thought for a moment, and sighed, "Alright."

Normally, he would never reveal a guest's private information, but given Song Hengjue's current situation, he was afraid that Song Hengjue's family wouldn't know about it, and what consequences that might result...

Dr. Xu dared not say that he could take responsibility, after all, it was a living human life.

Yang Qingheng didn't react until Dr. Xu disappeared from sight, and walked into the house with her head down.

Fang Nan noticed her pale face as she entered and quickly approached her, anxiously asking, "How did it go? What did he say?"

"It's alright, he just needs to recover now. Don't mention his illness to Song Hengjue in the future," Yang Qingheng said.

Dr. Xu said that Song Hengjue's previous amnesia was mostly due to excessive mental burden, and his physical problems were nothing serious except for insomnia and emotional sensitivity. This amnesia is actually a good thing for him.

It might be better not to tell him about his illness than to tell him.

Fang Nan naturally listened to her without thinking and quickly promised that he would never mention a word about it in front of Song Hengjue again.

Before leaving, she remembered something and suddenly turned back: "By the way, Aunt Yao said she should be back in the next couple of days. And according to the original plan, the company will arrange for you to go to the workshop for inspection and review with several shareholders and managers tomorrow."

On the day Song Hengjue had the accident, she had Fang Nan call Yao Ying. The old lady was originally in a hurry to come back, but when she heard that it was Yao Ying who was taking care of her son, she changed her mind on the spot and said that she wanted to play with her old friends in the scenic area for a few more days. She really has a big heart.

Even though her son has lost his memory, she's still happily oblivious.

Yang Qingheng found it both funny and helpless.

That night, after the embarrassment of the afternoon, Song Hengjue was extremely well-behaved. While eating, he almost buried his face in his bowl and didn't dare to look Yang Qingheng in the eye, for fear that she would bring up the nosebleed again. After dinner, he went straight back to his room.

Yang Qingheng went to the study to work on company matters. When she came out, it was already past 11 p.m. After washing up, she was about to lie down on the bed, but then she remembered that the doctor said Song Hengjue had a sleep disorder. After hesitating for a few seconds, she took her pillow and went to the next room.

The room was dark, the only light coming from the television set, where a man and a woman were entangled together.

Song Hengjue blushed and her fingers gripped the seams of the sofa tightly.

Since that day, he was afraid that Yang Qingheng would laugh at him in bed, so he asked the driver for a few DVDs. The driver pretended to be serious at first and said that he couldn't understand them, but later he stammered and took out a few.

Knock knock knock.

Just as they were getting excited, there was a knock on the door.

Song Hengjue jumped in fright, almost leaping out of his skin. He quickly stopped the TV, covered the disc tightly with a cloth, stuffed it into the drawer, and asked in a panic, "Who...who is it?"

"I'll open the door." Yang Qingheng pursed her lips, sensing something was off about Song Hengjue's voice.

Song Hengjue opened the door hesitantly, his face still flushed from the heat. When he saw Yang Qingheng, he felt even more guilty, afraid that she would notice something.

Yang Qingheng peeked out and raised an eyebrow: "Why aren't the lights on?"

This man is acting strange today.

Song Hengjue's eyes darted around, and he coughed dryly, his fist pressed against his lips, trying to cover his mouth: "I was just about to go to sleep when you arrived. What do you want to talk to me about?"

Yang Qingheng looked at him with some skepticism, then squeezed her pillow under his arm and reached out to turn on the light: "It's nothing, I just accidentally got my sheets dirty, so I'm sleeping here for the night."

She wanted to see if he could really sleep at night or if he was just deceiving her to put her mind at ease.

Song Hengjue couldn't stop him in time; by the time he realized what was happening, the person had already crawled inside.

Normally, he would want to be with her all the time, but then he thought about the DVDs on TV and the TV that wasn't turned off.

His expression almost cracked.

"I think we should sleep separately. Look, my injury hasn't healed yet. What if you run into me tonight? What do you think?"

He tried to persuade the people to leave.

Yang Qingheng glanced at him inexplicably, then threw her pillow on the bed with a clear conscience and rolled into the blanket herself: "You're not missing any arms or legs, and the bandage on your head has been removed. How could I possibly touch you? Besides, I'm a very quiet sleeper."

A few days ago, she might have had some psychological burden, but now that his wound has scabbed over, she can't hurt him even if she's asleep.

Song Hengjue persisted: "I don't want to sleep yet. I want to read for a while. You're sleepy. Our schedules are different, so it's better for us to sleep separately. You have to get up early for work tomorrow, so I don't want to disturb you."

“That is a problem.” Yang Qingheng sat up, clutching the blanket.

Song Hengjue secretly breathed a sigh of relief and opened the door: "I see that the guest room next door is quite clean. Why don't you go and sleep there for the night?"

Unexpectedly, the woman got out of bed and went straight to the TV: "Simple, since you don't want to sleep, I'll keep you company. I haven't watched TV in a long time."

Song Hengjue's heart stopped. He rushed over at the fastest speed he had ever been and blocked the TV, his voice tight: "Um, this TV is broken."

"How could that be? I was using it just two days ago." Yang Qingheng didn't believe it and reached out to touch the disc player, wanting to see what the problem was so she could have someone come and fix it another day.

"Don't move. Do you even know how to fix this? Let a professional do it. Don't let a short circuit electrocute you." Song Hengjue was tense, determined to defend his dignity to the death.

A person can die from social death, but not twice in one day.

Yang Qingheng nodded: "Okay." She let go of her hand, but somehow she touched something, and the television behind the screen suddenly lit up, with strange sounds faintly coming from it.