CHAPTER 1540: CHAPTER 1662: MEMORIES REVIVAL

Ye Ranran couldn’t figure it out and decided she would ask him later.

She picked up the second album and opened it. It was filled with their wedding photos. Back then, the two of them had taken plenty, changing into dozens of outfits.

But there weren’t many shots of each outfit, and the locations varied, though they were limited as well.

They hadn’t spent long on the shoot because both of them were busy and preoccupied with other matters, which made the wedding photos feel somewhat rushed.

The subsequent wedding was even more hurried. Although they tried to make up for it later, regret still lingered.

This was something Jun Mochan had always felt guilt over; he had undeniably failed Ye Ranran.

In the last wedding photo, she was wearing a dreamy gown layered with three tiers of white tulle that danced in the wind. The delicate flowers embroidered on the dress looked as though they might take flight.

Her hair wasn’t styled into an updo—it simply fell naturally beneath her veil. Jun Mochan held her in his arms, standing amid the flowers, his smile radiant.

A flash of white light pierced through Ye Ranran’s mind, splitting open memories long forgotten and sealed away.

In those memories, there was a man kneeling on the ground, stitching needle by needle. His expression was reverent, his tender words filled with devotion as he promised to personally make her wedding gown.

Ye Ranran’s eyes widened. She stared intently at the photo, the brilliance in her gaze slowly fading until it settled back into calmness.

She remembered. Finally, she remembered.

Her fingers trembled slightly as she continued flipping through the album.

Following that were her personal photos, with occasional shots of the two of them together. Ye Ranran reached the last page, then sat on the bed for a while, deciding to look for Jun Mochan.

She took two steps before realizing it might not be appropriate—he had mentioned he had a video conference to attend. If she disrupted him now, wouldn’t she just be interrupting?

Better not to go.

Ye Ranran glanced at the album in her hands, then idly opened a drawer, intending to store it inside.

Inside the drawer were some sketches and a photograph. The photo was of her and another man, but the man wasn’t Jun Mochan.

This man had a face every bit as handsome as Jun Mochan’s, yet his aura was entirely different. His gaze toward the camera carried traces of melancholy.

The two of them stood shoulder to shoulder, their posture intimate, but their heads didn’t touch, indicating they were just close friends.

Was he her friend? Ye Ranran picked up the photograph. But why was there only one photo? What did this photo signify? What meaning did it hold?

Beneath the photo were several drawings. Ye Ranran unfolded them—they were all portraits of Jun Mochan. With only a few strokes, his demeanor was perfectly captured.

In one, he was dressed in traditional attire, holding a lantern, standing beneath flowering trees. His smile was subtle yet enchanting, his grace unparalleled.

Ye Ranran lightly ran her fingertip over Jun Mochan’s face in the drawing. She speculated that she must have drawn these herself.

But she wasn’t sure what mindset she had when creating them. At that time, she must have loved Jun Mochan deeply, right?

Ye Ranran returned the sketches and photograph to the drawer. She left the album on the desk before heading to shower.

Later, as she drifted in a hazy sleep, she felt the bed beside her sink softly—and then found herself enveloped in a searing embrace.

Jun Mochan held her tightly, his kisses landing on her forehead, her cheeks, her lips.

He gently bit her.

Her consciousness stirred slightly, but she wasn’t entirely awake yet.

When she opened her eyes, she was met with a gaze brimming with desire. His eyes were intense, like a web spun from passion, enclosing her entirely.

Ye Ranran instinctively reached out and wrapped her arms around him.

It was another night of intimacy.

(The recollections will slowly continue to resurface.)