Your Name Is My Illness

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A cool, reserved girl, soft on the outside and tough within × a deaf, formidable devil who is no pushover

Shi Niannian first met Jiang Wang outside the police station. The young man’s face was so expressionless that it seemed incapable of showing any emotion.

Later, she heard that Jiang Wang had been in an accident the year before and had lost his hearing as a result. Everyone at school had their own version of what happened.

Shi Niannian thought Jiang Wang was the one person at school no one should mess with.

Shi Niannian thought she would never see any emotion on Jiang Wang’s face.

Until she saw the look of surrender on his face.

The smell of alcohol on him mingled with the soap on his clothes, creating an unusually clean, intoxicating scent.

His jaw tightened, his gaze dark and heavy. Restrained and holding himself back, he whispered in her ear:

“Little Stutterer, I’ve been drinking, and I really want to kiss you right now. Can I?”

Years later.

In the business world, Jiang Wang was decisive and ruthless, a first-rate businessman who was cold-blooded, cold-hearted, and uninterested in women. Everyone said that provoking President Jiang was tantamount to courting death.

Until one day, after a charity gala, the man was surrounded by people as he left when his gaze suddenly came to a stop.

He strode quickly through the crowd and went straight to the person by the roadside. Wrapping an arm around her waist, he bent down and buried his face in the hollow of her neck.

The crowd froze. They were used to seeing him dominate the business world, but now he was clutching her tightly with an almost pitiful desperation.

The woman raised a hand and gently stroked his hair. “Jiang Wang.”

He cursed under his breath, his voice thick with tears. “You still know how to come back.”

The next second, his shoulders began to tremble, as if he were crying.

If there is only one pure and untainted soul in this world, then whether or not she becomes stained by sin, she will belong to me.

You are my wildest dream, the one I can never forget.

==New novel: The Darling in My Hands==

[1]

When Chen Die was sixteen, she first met Wen Liang on the street. The boy toyed with a hat in his hand, his eyes pitch-black as he stood over her.

After a long moment, he leaned down, his dark eyes meeting hers.

“Come with me?” he asked.

Chen Die really did go with him, and stayed by his side for six years.

[2]

Everyone knew Wen Liang was unruly and impossible to tame, a carefree playboy. Yet rumors said there was a beauty at home, a celebrated beauty from the film academy: dazzling and radiant, elusive and free-spirited, with a spoiled, willful streak he had nurtured.

They each got what they wanted, and stayed passionately in love for years, both knowing exactly what their relationship was. Then Chen Die graduated from college, waved goodbye with carefree ease, and said, “Goodbye.”

She was even more decisive and brisk than she had been when she nodded and went with him all those years ago.

Wen Liang lit a cigarette. Through the pale blue-white smoke, he lifted his eyes, curled his lips, and praised her coolly: “Very good.”

After Chen Die left, Wen Liang carried on as usual, thriving as ever and seemingly unaffected.

Everyone sighed that Young Master Wen was cold and heartless, and that even after all those years together, it had meant no more to him than that.

Then one day, a piece of celebrity gossip revealed the two of them together:

On a street late at night, rising star Chen Die slapped the biggest investor in her new film so hard he couldn’t turn his face back for a long moment.

After that slap, Chen Die casually swept her long hair back, radiating charm as she said gently, “President Wen, I think we broke up a long time ago.”

Instead of getting angry, the man leaned against his car, licked his lips, and praised her. “My little leopard, you’re even fierce when you throw a punch.”

Chen Die looked at him with distant eyes and said nothing.

Wen Liang, who had always seemed carefree to everyone else, fell silent for a moment. Slowly, his eyes reddened.

His hands trembling, he carefully drew her into his arms, murmuring the pet name only he knew: “Lingling, be good. Come with me.”

#I would never try to pluck the moon. I want the moon to come to me#

Theme: Those who never forget will be answered.