The morning sun rose over the misty ridges, its golden light filtering through the treetops as if trying to guide the heart of a man who had endured seven days of sleepless, tortured searching.
Qin Yanzhou stood near the edge of a cliff trail, his eyes unwavering. Beneath them, the forest spread thick and endless. Behind him, the whirling sound of the helicopter faded as his men secured it in a clearing.
Today, he would find her. He had to.
They made their way down the narrow mountain path, feet crunching over twigs and earth. They had to leave the helicopter behind — the rest of the trail could only be traversed by foot. The villagers had said the house was in a more secluded region, close to a distant farming town. Qin Yanzhou's eyes scanned everything, hungry for a sign — a voice, a silhouette, anything that could be her.
Meanwhile, in the nearby village, Mo Qing Yao straightened the mask on Wu Mei's face — or rather, Miao Miao, as she had been calling her. The name was temporary, like everything else about the girl's current life. Her amnesia remained unchanged, and despite her calm appearance, Mo Qing could sense the restlessness in the girl's soul.
"Keep your mask on, Miao Miao," she said gently. "We'll be quick. Just grab some rice, herbs, and medicine."
"Yes, Aunt Mo," Wu Mei nodded, her voice light but her eyes uncertain.
They walked down the dirt path into the village market, colorful with fresh vegetables, woven baskets, and dried meats. Miao Miao stayed close to Mo Qing, her hands tucked into her long sleeves.
Back in the village, Qin Yanzhou and his team arrived and split up, asking the locals about an older woman who lived on the outskirts — Mo Qing Yao.
A vendor blinked at the name, hesitant. "She comes here sometimes, once a week maybe. Keeps to herself. Lives with a young girl...but I don't know her name."
As soon as Mo Qing heard Qin Yanzhou's name being murmured by one of the villagers — his title as CEO mentioned — her spine stiffened. Her heart skipped.
"Miao Miao, we need to leave. Now."
"Why?" Wu Mei looked up, alarmed.
"Someone's asking about me. I think it's better we don't get involved. Come."
She took Wu Mei's hand and pulled her into a narrow corridor between two old tea shops.
But they weren't fast enough.
One of Qin Yanzhou's men spotted the movement. He spoke quickly into his earpiece.
"Sir. I saw them. A woman and a younger girl in a mask. Heading down the alley past the apothecary."
Qin Yanzhou didn't hesitate. He ran.
His long strides brought him down the cobblestone path, past market stalls and surprised townsfolk. His heart beat faster, louder than his footsteps. He turned a corner and caught a glimpse — the older woman pulling along a younger girl in loose robes, a mask covering her face.
It was her. Something in his soul screamed it.
"Wait!" Qin Yanzhou's voice rang out.
Mo Qing whipped her head around. The man was close now — too close.
"Keep going, Miao Miao!" she whispered.
But Qin Yanzhou was faster. He caught up, stepping in front of them.
"Who are you?" he asked breathlessly, eyes moving between the older woman and the girl.
Mo Qing Yao stood protectively in front of Wu Mei. "Just travelers, sir. Please, let us pass."
His gaze narrowed. "You live in the cabin on the ridge, don't you?"
She hesitated. "No. I'm afraid you're mistaken."
He looked again at the girl behind her, his eyes falling to the slight tremble in her hands, the familiar curve of her jaw even beneath the mask.
"Who is she? Let me see her face."
"No. She's my niece. Leave her be."
Qin Yanzhou's voice dropped, cracked with emotion. "I've been searching for my wife for a week. Her name is Wu Mei. She went missing in an accident. I don't know if she's safe, if she's eating, if she's alive... She's my world."
His voice broke.
"Please... if you know anything, I beg you. Help me."
Mo Qing Yao's defenses faltered as she looked into the man's eyes — eyes that held real anguish, the kind that no actor could fake. She turned to Miao Miao, who looked both confused and startled.
"Do you remember anything about your past?" Mo Qing asked softly.
Wu Mei shook her head. "Only flashes. Water... falling... and pain."
Mo Qing turned back to the man. "What if she doesn't remember you? What if seeing you brings her pain?"
"Then I'll help her remember with love. I'll never hurt her. I just want her back."
Silence stretched between them.
Mo Qing sighed. Her fingers reached toward Wu Mei's mask.
"Forgive me, child. But this man may be the answer to the ache in your chest."
She gently lifted the mask away.
Qin Yanzhou gasped. His breath caught. It was her. Pale but beautiful. Lost but breathing.
"Mei..."
Wu Mei blinked at him, her brows furrowing. "Do I...know you?"
His smile was pained. "I'm your husband. You are Wu Mei. My Mei."
Her eyes widened, body trembling slightly.
He took a step closer, but gently. "I won't rush you. Even if you don't remember... I'll wait."
She stared at him. Something fluttered in her chest. A whisper of familiarity. A warmth.
Mo Qing laid a hand on her shoulder. "Your heart knows him, even if your mind does not."
Wu Mei nodded slowly.
Tears spilled down Qin Yanzhou's cheeks. He didn't care who saw.
And just like that, hope returned.
Will Mo Qing Yao reveal the truth about Miao Miao's real identity?
Will Wu Mei recognize Qin Yanzhou, or will her lost memories keep them apart?
Can love survive when the heart remembers but the mind forgets?
Is this reunion a new beginning, or just another twist of fate?
Will Qin Yanzhou's tears be enough to awaken something deep inside Wu Mei?
Or will the woman he loves disappear before his eyes... again?