Chapter 11 — Exclusive Memory

About ten minutes later, Ji Yuntong returned to the apartment from a nearby pharmacy.

She pushed open the door to find the room silent. Walking over to the sofa, she saw Bai Hennan lying there, eyes closed, breathing steady—he seemed to have fallen asleep.

She poured a glass of water and prepared some hangover medicine, placing them on the coffee table so that he would see them when he woke up. After setting everything in place, she stood up, thinking about getting him a blanket, and stepped into his bedroom.

His room was just as neat and tidy, giving off a refreshing atmosphere.

Ji Yuntong picked up a thin blanket, ready to leave, but her gaze unintentionally landed on a photograph in the room.

She stared at it in shock—this photo originally had six people in it, but now only two remained.

She remembered this picture. It was taken during her younger sister Ji Jintang's last New Year at home before transferring abroad in her sophomore year. Their families had always been close, so Bai Hennan had joined them for the celebration.

That New Year was particularly lively. Besides family, Ji Jintang and Bai Hennan's childhood friends had also gathered. The five of them had grown up together, frequently visiting each other's homes, and that night was even more festive than usual.

With so many people, they decided to have a barbecue in the small courtyard. Bai Hennan, Wen Xuran, and Sun Yunheng were in charge of grilling, while Ji Jintang and Yan Qiuning kept order, preventing too much chaos—especially keeping Wen Xuran, the most energetic and musically inclined of the group, in check.

They ate, drank, and laughed until ten at night, when Ji's parents retired to their rooms. Ji Yuntong and the youngest, Ji Zhilin, finished cleaning up and were about to leave, leaving the courtyard to the younger ones.

Just then, Wen Xuran called out, "Tong-jie! Wait a minute! We haven't taken a photo with Jintang yet! Come on, let's do it now!"

As he spoke, he gave Ji Jintang a meaningful look.

There were no secrets among this group of friends. Bai Hennan had never openly admitted to liking anyone, but his glances and subtle actions had long since given him away. How could they not notice?

Ji Jintang immediately understood and chimed in, "That's right, Jie! This is my last New Year at home! Come on!"

She pulled Ji Yuntong beside her, then gestured to Ji Zhilin and handed over the camera. "Zhilin, take the picture for us!"

Bai Hennan, seeing this, quietly positioned himself on Ji Yuntong's other side to ensure he stood next to her. The others quickly found their places, ready for the shot.

"Zhilin, take five!" Ji Jintang instructed, then added with a smirk, "Scatter!"

Ji Yuntong and Ji Zhilin were both puzzled by the phrase.

"Uh… nothing, nothing, just a slip of the tongue," Ji Jintang brushed it off, pretending she had spoken nonsense due to drinking too much.

Ji Yuntong didn't press further and turned to face the camera.

"Alright—one, two, three!" Ji Zhilin focused the lens and pressed the shutter—click!

They changed poses and took four consecutive shots.

For the last one, just as Ji Yuntong was unaware, the others quietly stepped out of the frame, leaving only Bai Hennan standing beside her.

So that's what Ji Jintang had meant by "scatter."

Noticing the shift, Ji Zhilin deliberately slowed the countdown to give the others enough time to step away.

Click! The shutter clicked again, capturing Ji Yuntong and Bai Hennan's first photo together.

Once the picture was taken, Ji Yuntong didn't turn to check where the others had gone. Instead, she looked at Ji Zhilin and asked, "Do you want a picture with Jintang?"

Thus, she remained oblivious to what had happened behind her.

Her thoughts snapped back to the present.

Ji Yuntong refocused her gaze on the photo placed on Bai Hennan's bedside table.

It was indeed a picture of just the two of them. There were no visible edits, no signs of anyone being cut out.

—How did this photo end up here?

She couldn't figure it out and decided not to dwell on it. Taking the blanket, she turned and walked back to the living room.

Bai Hennan was still asleep in the same position, his breathing deep and steady. Ji Yuntong approached quietly, gently covering him with the blanket.

At this close distance, she could clearly hear his breathing and feel the faint warmth emanating from his body.

Bai Hennan was in a deep sleep. The usual coldness and detachment in his expression had faded, making him seem peaceful and harmless.

Ji Yuntong's gaze lingered on his face, a mix of emotions stirring within her. Compared to her sister, Ji Jintang, she had far fewer interactions with Bai Hennan. Yet, this photograph silently reminded her that at some moment in time, she had shared an exclusive memory with him.

She lowered her eyes, tucked in the corners of the blanket, and then stood up, preparing to leave.

However, just as she turned, a gentle grip closed around her wrist.

She froze, looking back to meet Bai Hennan's half-asleep gaze.

"…Tong-jie?" His voice was slightly hoarse, as if he were still emerging from a dream, his consciousness not fully awake.

Ji Yuntong hesitated briefly before saying in a soft voice, "Go back to sleep. I'm leaving."

But Bai Hennan didn't let go. Instead, his fingers tightened slightly, as if instinctively holding on.

She was stunned. A moment later, she heard him murmur, "…Don't go."

Her heartbeat faltered slightly.

The room was quiet, so quiet that only their breaths could be heard.

She pressed her lips together, then gently pried his fingers apart, placing his hand back under the blanket before swiftly leaving the living room.

The night was deep. A breeze whispered outside the window, as if carrying a silent message.

The door clicked shut softly, sealing off the dim glow of the living room light and taking Ji Yuntong's presence with it.

Bai Hennan opened his eyes. The drowsiness from before was completely gone—his gaze was now sharp and clear.

He had never really been asleep.

From the moment she entered the living room, he had been faintly aware of her presence. He had simply kept his eyes closed, letting her move freely—letting her come closer, step into his bedroom, cover him with a blanket, and linger for a brief moment before choosing to leave.

The warmth of her touch still remained on his fingertips. He slowly clenched his hand, as if trying to hold onto something, yet grasping nothing at all.

After a long pause, he pushed the blanket aside, sat up, leaned toward the table, and poured out the hangover medicine. He picked up the water bottle and drank it down in one go.

The bitterness slid down his throat, clearing his mind. He stared at the bottle, recalling the moment just now, before walking into his bedroom. His gaze naturally fell on the photo on his bedside table.

He had kept this picture all these years.

He picked up the frame, tracing his fingers across the image—her standing beside him, her expression gentle. At the time, he hadn't thought much of it. But looking at it now, it was the only "solo" picture they had together.

Yet tonight, she had stood before this very photo, completely unaware of its significance.

Bai Hennan let out a quiet sigh, placing the frame back. His fingers rubbed against his temple before he turned toward the bathroom.

The night was silent. He needed to cool his thoughts.

Water cascaded down, washing away the scent of alcohol—but not the heaviness in his heart.

With his forehead against the shower wall, he thought about Ji Yuntong's reaction.

She hadn't noticed anything strange about the photo. Or perhaps, she simply hadn't thought to.

Had she really forgotten? Or did she just not want to remember?

He exhaled, turned off the water, and wiped his face.

Would it make a difference either way?

If not for tonight's coincidence, she might have never noticed the existence of this "solo" photo.

Bai Hennan scoffed quietly, a self-deprecating smirk tugging at his lips.

"Ridiculous."

He grabbed a towel and ran it casually through his hair before changing into clean clothes and walking back to the living room.

The blanket on the sofa still bore traces of her careful tidying, carrying a faint, clean scent—hers.

His fingertips curled slightly, but in the end, he pushed aside the tangled thoughts, picked up his phone, and glanced at the time.

11 p.m.

On the screen, the contacts interface displayed a few unread messages. One of them was from Gao Yue—

"Everything went smoothly tonight? Want to go for a night run to sober up?"

He didn't reply. Instead, he stared at the words for a few seconds, his slender fingers lightly tracing the edge of the screen.

Smooth?

If "smooth" meant that Ji Yuntong had noticed absolutely nothing—then yes, everything had gone perfectly.

A faint curve touched his lips, but he let out a silent sigh.

Moments later, he turned off the screen, leaned back against the sofa, and closed his eyes, letting his thoughts gradually sink into the silence of the night.

—Tonight felt especially long.