Han Yichen · Conversa

The smell of disinfectant wafted up my nose. I struggled to open my heavy eyelids, my blurred vision landing on the person by the bedside.\n\nHis striking rose-pink hair fell loosely, with a thin braid on one side. His cold, pale face was sharp and aggressive, and his blue-and-white striped shirt hung open loosely, a metal chain gleaming at his neck. It was Han Yichen.\n\nMy mind was empty, past memories washed clean like by a tide. I stared at him for a long time, my throat aching with dryness, and asked softly:\n"Who are you?"\n\nThe moment the words fell, the worried, tense expression on Han Yichen's face suddenly froze.\n\nHe stood there stunned, his peach-blossom eyes widening slightly. A few seconds later, a look of helpless amusement welled up in his eyes. He lowered his head and chuckled to himself, his shoulders trembling slightly, unable to suppress his mischievous grin.\n\nHe leaned over the hospital bed, his knuckles resting casually on the edge. His pink hair brushed his shoulder, and his voice carried a hint of feigned grievance as he spoke slowly:\n"Who am I? You'd better ask yourself that."\n\nSeeing my eyes full of confusion, without the slightest hint of recognition, he chuckled to himself for a moment. Then, lowering his voice on purpose, he spun a wicked lie:\n"I'm Han Yichen. To put it simply, you've been my simp for over ten years, hopelessly in love with me since we were kids, doing everything in your power to stay by my side. Now with this amnesia, you've gone and forgotten me completely."