Chapter 207: Chapter 207: I Will Remember Those Who Were Good to Me and Those Who Were Not

"Just a little bit left." Cheng Zhiwei was tidying her things when a hint of alcohol wafted her way, causing her to ask subconsciously, "You’ve been drinking, do you want some sobering-up soup?"

"Can you cook it?"

Cheng Zhiwei nodded and stood up to go to the kitchen.

Zhou Lin glanced at the scripture and phone on the table, then followed her into the kitchen, leaning against the doorway as he watched Cheng Zhiwei skillfully select sour jujube pits.

He asked indifferently, "Quite skilled, who have you cooked it for before?"

There are only two men in the Cheng family; Cheng Shang hardly drinks, so was it Meng Qiancheng then?

Cheng Zhiwei began to smile, having forgotten the past nearly three years, she seemed much more innocent and even prone to smiling.

When Zhou Lin asked, she straightforwardly said, "I’ve cooked it for Ah Lin before."

A flicker of surprise passed through Zhou Lin’s eyes. She had cooked sobering-up soup for him? Why didn’t he remember?

Speaking of the person she liked, Cheng Zhiwei wasn’t shy either; she casually asked, "Are you and Ah Lin close?"

"Hmm, I know him."

Cheng Zhiwei then spoke more, "He has many friends and often drinks, but he’s not the type to get dead drunk every time. Just once or twice he drank a bit too much, and seeing him in distress, I cooked him sobering-up soup."

Zhou Lin didn’t realize when he had straightened his posture and said lightly, "You didn’t hand it to him personally, did you?"

Otherwise, how would he not know about it?

Cheng Zhiwei paused in her actions, as if suddenly remembering, "Right, it seems like I never personally handed it to him."

"Who did you give it to?" Zhou Lin lowered his gaze, gentle yet indifferent, seemingly asking casually.

But upon closer reflection, it seemed like he was probing deeply.

"Who did I give it to?" Cheng Zhiwei frowned, trying to recall, but those memories were like duckweed on water, elusive and ungraspable.

Lost in thought, the knife she was using to pick jujube pits slipped and cut her finger.

With a cry of "Ah," she dropped the knife and jumped back, but lost her balance and fell backward.

Zhou Lin’s expression changed and he quickly stepped forward to catch her.

Cheng Zhiwei fell into an embrace tinged with the scent of alcohol, her face pale and her heart unsettled.

Zhou Lin tightened his arms suddenly; she really had lost a lot of weight, her body was mostly bone.

Cheng Zhiwei had already hopped out of his arms, her cheeks flushed with a bit of red, and she stammered a thanks, "Thank you, thank you."

Once Zhou Lin’s arms were empty, he frowned and chastised her, "Why are you so flustered?"

Cheng Zhiwei was running water over her finger, looking a bit dazed, "What exactly happened to me?"

"It’s not just my ears that aren’t working, it seems like my brain is having trouble too. Lately, I keep feeling like I’ve forgotten a lot, sometimes it takes a long time to remember something."

"Could it be a terminal illness?"

She rambled to herself, but Zhou Lin angrily retorted, "What nonsense are you talking about?"

Cheng Zhiwei was startled and pouted unhappily, "I was just joking, but did I really catch some serious illness? Otherwise, why would this be happening?"

"If you can’t remember, then don’t bother trying to." Zhou Lin rolled up his sleeves, went out to get a bandage for Cheng Zhiwei, then took the knife to pick jujube pits himself, his tone indifferent, "Things you’ve forgotten are probably unhappy things, which is for the best."

Cheng Zhiwei carefully placed the adhesive bandage and countered, "Of course that’s not good. What has happened has happened, and forgetting it doesn’t change that it happened. For instance, if someone bullied me and I became friends with them again because I forgot, just thinking about it makes me feel terrible. Moreover, they might even laugh at me behind my back."

"He won’t laugh at you," Zhou Lin said, cutting a sour jujube pit, his forehead’s wispy hair hiding his eyes.

In the light, his expression was unclear.

Cheng Zhiwei shook her head, "Who knows? Anyway, I don’t want to lose my memory. I need to remember both the people who were good to me and those who weren’t."

Zhou Lin’s movement paused; he restrained himself from looking at her, frowning slightly, "It’s cut up, should I cook it now?"

"Okay." Cheng Zhiwei hurried over. She actually didn’t think Zhou Lin was that drunk, but since she had spoken, what’s done is done. She didn’t feel it was necessary to make the sobering-up soup anymore but decided it was better to make it anyway since it was a way to thank him for providing her a place to stay.

While the soup was simmering, Zhou Lin went upstairs to take a shower, and by the time he came down, Cheng Zhiwei was bringing a bowl of soup to him, somewhat embarrassed, "Brother Zhou, it hasn’t been simmering for too long. You can eat the sour jujube inside; it’ll improve the sobering effect."

"Thank you." He nodded and took it from her.

"I’ll go do my own thing then." Cheng Zhiwei turned to leave.

Looking at the time, Zhou Lin’s voice, damp as steam, suggested, "It’s quite late. You should go to sleep."

"I’ll sleep a bit later. I’m free during the day anyway. I can sleep as long as I want," Cheng Zhiwei said with a light smile, considerately adding, "You should rest now."

As she was about to leave, her wrist was caught.

Cheng Zhiwei looked up, puzzled, meeting Zhou Lin’s dark eyes.

"If you have time to sleep during the day, then you can also sleep at night and do what you need to do during the day," he said.

"But I..." Cheng Zhiwei pouted; she was recording at night to finish early and give it to Zhou Lin. She wanted him to recover soon.

"Your health isn’t fully back yet," Zhou Lin said, fixing his gaze on Cheng Zhiwei’s still somewhat pale face.

Had she forgotten that she had been running a fever just a few days ago?

"I’m already better," Cheng Zhiwei patted her arm, "Look, I’ve recovered really well."

She had forgotten, and that had made her talk more.

Raising his eyebrow, Zhou Lin said in a calm yet decisive tone, "Cheng Zhiwei, if you talk like that, I’ll have someone throw all those things out tomorrow."

"You..." Cheng Zhiwei pouted resentfully, "Not even for half an hour?"

"No."

"Hmph." Cheng Zhiwei stomped her foot in frustration, unable to defy, and quickly headed into the living room to pack things up before attempting to take them upstairs.

"Leave them," Zhou Lin saw right through Cheng Zhiwei’s little scheme.

Reluctantly, Cheng Zhiwei did not want to leave them, but Zhou Lin’s dark expression and strong presence were frightening, forcing her to begrudgingly put the things back. Irritated, she glared at Zhou Lin and ran upstairs.

Zhou Lin’s lips curled slightly, and his mood suddenly improved considerably.

She was like a blank sheet of paper now, her emotions clear on her face, easily seen through.

His gaze shifted to the box on the table which she had saved all the sutras in, treating them like treasures.

Was he really that important to her at that time?

He walked upstairs slowly, pausing at the guest room’s door before entering the adjacent master bedroom.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by Aunomay Read