I woke up with a scar on my lip.
They said it was a hickey from a car accident.
My husband, Jiang Yu, would touch this scar every midnight, as if confirming some lost cultural relic.
Until I found my death certificate in his study, the date was a rainy night three years ago.
A note read: "Dreamweaver cleared."
That night, I spoke silently to the hidden camera:
"No. 0731, Mission restarted."
He appeared on the other side of the surveillance camera, holding a glass of red wine and chuckled:
"Welcome home, my prey."
Concept: When memory is tampered with, only instinctive love can penetrate all lies.