The item, which he had kept close to his person, had inadvertently fallen out due to his disheveled state.
Feng Yinwan picked it up and saw it was a simple hand-woven silk thread bracelet.
Its pale pink color, perhaps faded with time, showed edges that were slightly whitened. Yet, it was evident that its owner had cherished it, keeping it immaculate through the years.
Her fingertips brushed against the silk, and Feng Yinwan looked down, noticing a strand of hair peeking from the knot at the end of the bracelet.
As if a storm had suddenly erupted, her body stiffened, as if struck.
At three years old, at a banquet in the General's mansion, she had clung to Song Qingan's arm, declaring him handsome enough to be her future husband.
At four, during the Lantern Festival riddle gathering, she had caught a cold and stayed home. Song Qingan had gone to the south of the city, bought a lantern, and delivered it to the back gate of the Feng residence.
At five, during the Flower Festival outing for the capital's noble ladies, she had refused to go and instead pestered Song Qingan to take her to the western suburbs. This caused a misunderstanding and led to him being punished by Minister Song.
…
Fragments of memories flooded her mind, sweeping over her consciousness like a tidal wave.
Until the fire.
At seven, she had accompanied Old General Feng to a palace banquet. Unwilling to mingle with the hypocritical noble ladies, she had left on her own, only to stumble upon the fire at Yuming Hall.
The young Ye Tinglan, drugged and unaware of the danger, had been pushed out by her with all her might. In the chaos, she herself was thrust into the flames.
The door was locked from the outside, and the flames danced wildly, mirroring the incident at Lanqing Courtyard.
Choked by the thick smoke, she had nearly fainted, yet the pain of her skin being scorched by the fire was painfully clear. Before her consciousness completely faded, she managed to catch a glimpse of a blurry figure rushing towards her.
This fire had disfigured her face and caused her to lose all her memories.
Due to severe psychological trauma, her mind seemed to actively avoid everything before the fire. Any attempt to recall brought unbearable pain, and after several failed attempts, the people of the General's mansion had tacitly agreed to remain silent.
That winter was cold, and Song Qingan disappeared from her sight.
It was also that year that she had escaped the watchful eyes of everyone and run out of the mansion, only to see Ye Tinglan riding a horse in the training grounds.
His youthful features were evident, but he was already clad in the attire of a prince, his gaze surveying the crowd with the ambition of a ruler.
Like a beam of light dispelling the gloom, the words "Prince Mo," along with the image, seared into her heart.
Upon returning to the mansion, Old General Feng, who had been frantic searching for her, was on the verge of tears. To his astonishment, she, who had been silent for so long, clearly stated, "I want to marry Prince Mo."
Old General Feng wept with joy. Amidst his surprise, he actually began to make arrangements for the marriage.
Song Qingan was never mentioned, and Yuping, who came to serve her later, knew nothing of these past events.
A coolness brushed her cheek, and Feng Yinwan realized she was already weeping silently.
Her tears dripped onto his back, stinging the wounds, but Song Qingan remained silent.
His clenched fist trembled slightly as he maintained his posture with his back to her, his voice rough.
"Wan'er, you remember everything?"
A strand of silk, weaving a thread of affection, wishing to entrust a lifetime to her beloved.
It was she who had insisted on tying this bracelet onto Song Qingan's wrist all those years ago, yet fate had cruelly made her forget it completely.
She was a sinner.
Feng Yinwan had countless questions, her lips parting but unable to form words.
What could she ask?
Why had he not appeared back then?
Or why had he never spoken the truth all these years?
But he had done nothing wrong. It was she who had forgotten him entirely and inflicted this indelible scar.
The warmth behind her intensified with her dripping tears, and Song Qingan's heart grew flustered. "Wan'er, you don't need to carry such a burden. I kept this not to make you remember; I..."
"Song Qingan, was it worth it?"
For someone who had long forgotten him, for a promise almost impossible to fulfill.
Were these years, these injuries, worth it?
She clutched the hand bracelet tightly, her voice catching in her throat.
The person before her paused at her words, then after a long moment, nodded gravely.
"No matter what the world brings, my feelings have never changed."
A single strand of silk, so delicate, yet it had tethered his heart for years. Whether it was worth it or not was irrelevant; he had done so willingly.