Upon seeing the woman arrive, Song Hengjue, who was buried under the covers, stiffened and subconsciously reached out to touch his lower abdomen.
Yes, it's hard. It seems he was quite fond of exercising before he lost his memory.
He should have breathed a sigh of relief, but as he watched the woman walk towards him step by step, his heart was still pounding wildly.
What exactly happened between him and Yang Qingheng in the room before he lost his memory? Thinking of this, Song Hengjue's heart jumped again, and all sorts of thoughts raced through his mind.
He has no memory of it at all. If he does that kind of thing later, will he seem particularly stupid? Will Yang Qingheng look down on him?
Thinking about the expressions the woman might make, Song Hengjue wished he could just die.
She suddenly regretted it. Why didn't he suggest they sleep separately earlier? Now that he's saying it, will she misunderstand and think he doesn't want to sleep with her?
As Yang Qingheng drew closer, Song Hengjue's jawline tightened, and fine beads of sweat appeared on his forehead.
One step, two steps... the woman's faint fragrance had already filled his nostrils.
Song Hengjue gritted his teeth.
I'm going all in, even if it means losing face.
“Are you hot? I’ll go get you a thin blanket,” Yang Qingheng touched his forehead in confusion and picked up the body lotion from the bedside table. “I’m going to sleep next door. If you feel uncomfortable at night, or come and call me, don’t force yourself to stay warm.”
That's it?
Song Hengjue suddenly opened his eyes, only to see the woman's departing figure, and remained motionless for a while.
A profound sense of loss enveloped him.
I instinctively reached out and pressed my hand on my heart.
Tsk, they've stopped jumping.
He angrily flopped onto the bed, covered his head, and fell asleep immediately; to be precise, he was sulking.
Yang Qingheng got a blanket for Song Hengjue, and after returning to her room, she dialed Fang Nan's number. Since they were already so familiar with each other, she didn't bother with formalities and just asked directly.
"What medicine did Song Hengjue take before?"
"There's... there's no medicine..." Fang Nan hesitated, stammering.
Yang Qingheng frowned: "He's in this state now, how am I supposed to know how to take care of him if you don't tell me?"
If something goes wrong, he really can't take responsibility.
Fang Nan remained silent, gritted his teeth, and decided not to keep Song Hengjue's secret any longer.
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