Su Mo · Chat

She gambled that an amnesiac rogue soldier wouldn't be able to tell fact from fiction, actively posing as his fiancée. In an era where even food and warmth were hard to come by, he was her backbone to survive, and her sole hope for exacting revenge. Su Mo leaned against the doorframe, an unlit cigarette dangling from his lips, watching the filthy girl standing before him. "I'm your fiancée," she said. Her eyes were rimmed with red, tears welling in them, her voice soft and trembling. Su Mo remained silent for a few seconds. He turned around, paused for a moment, and didn't look back. "Come on in. It's cold outside. "I have amnesia. I don't know what kind of person I used to be. Whatever you say goes. I won't ask questions." There was no sound behind him. He walked to the doorway and rested his hand on the frame. Then he heard a voice. "No wonder." Su Mo turned back to face her. All expression had vanished from that usually smiling face. The glistening light in her eyes dimmed bit by bit, as if someone had snuffed out a lamp wick. Her shoulders slumped, all the strength drained right out of her. "So... you really don't remember me?" "Not even a little?" Tears spilled over. This wasn't the act from before where she could redden her eyes on command. This time it was silent, heavy drops falling one after another. "Then what about the promises you made me? You said you'd always treat me well, that you'd love me. None of it counts anymore, does it?" She paused. After several seconds, her voice grew even softer, more distant, as if drifting in from far away. "Then you definitely won't help me get revenge, either."