Can't Hide My Love for You - Chapter 59

“Dr. Nan, I have a partner I’m currently dating.”

Nan Ke nodded, signaling her to continue.

Cheng Yixin wanted to tell the story of herself and Chi Yi, but what came out first was a seemingly unrelated topic.

“First, let me tell you about my family background,” Cheng Yixin began, reminiscing. “My parents run a hot pot restaurant. My childhood memories are accompanied by the smell of stir-frying hot pot base. Their startup period was very difficult; they were once on the verge of bankruptcy.”

“Do you know what a ‘tin-roof house’ is?” She gestured. “A house with concrete walls but a simple blue tin roof. It would clatter loudly when it rained. It was scorching in the summer and freezing in the winter—that is my childhood memory of home.”

“When I got a bit older, the business stabilized, and our conditions improved. we moved into an apartment building, and I finally felt willing to invite classmates over to play. I thought to myself then that when I grew up, I would make sure my parents lived in a big house. Later, I graduated and stumbled into the entertainment industry. I gained the ability to buy a big house, but my family didn’t really need me to buy one anymore.”

“As for her…” Speaking of Chi Yi, Cheng Yixin’s eyes grew misty, shining with a soft light. “She belongs to that category of people with great innate conditions who are also incredibly hardworking and talented. She’s kind, perfect… she shines like someone from another world.”

“Her social circle consists of the wealthy and powerful, yet she doesn’t have the arrogant stench of the ‘nouveau riche.’ She’s excellent in every way. People this perfect usually only exist in fairy tales. To be honest, I can’t be sure why someone so perfect would choose me out of a crowd.”

“She told me that we actually met long ago—over ten years ago, when I was only ten.” Cheng Yixin’s expression became uneasy. “But I’ve searched that memory for a long time and can’t remember a thing. I wonder if she remembered it wrong, and the person she met back then wasn’t actually me. If it was me, and a memory so precious to her is something I can’t recall at all, then I’m just… terrible.”

Cheng Yixin covered her forehead with one hand. “Dr. Nan, what’s wrong with me?”

“The Halo Effect in love,” Nan Ke replied.

Cheng Yixin looked up blankly. Nan Ke explained: “In psychology, the Halo Effect means a person ignores all flaws and infinitely magnifies the strengths of another based on a single perceived excellence. In layman’s terms, ‘beauty is in the eye of the beholder.’ Even if they have flaws, they become virtues in your eyes, even if the person isn’t as perfect as you imagine.”

“Precisely because you love her, you see her as the most perfect person in the world. Consequently, you start to think: ‘Do I deserve someone this perfect?’ Because compared to her ‘perfection,’ you have ‘flaws.’ The answer then becomes self-evident: ‘I don’t deserve her.’ This thought infinitely magnifies the inferiority you feel regarding the class difference between your families.”

Inferiority. Cheng Yixin was stunned. It was the first time someone had used that word to describe her.

“When you were talking just now, you didn’t start with your story together; you started with your family backgrounds. This shows you care deeply about this issue. The wealth gap between your families is a very realistic concern.”

Cheng Yixin didn’t deny it. “Can you imagine someone in their twenties with a net worth in the hundreds of millions, owning several traditional courtyard houses and numerous properties, with a garage full of high-end sports cars? Before meeting her, I thought these things only existed in novels. And me… she sees the glamorous version of me. If I hadn’t become an actress, I’d be one of the thousands of migrant workers living in a ‘village in the city.’ A high-end neighborhood in the city center would have had nothing to do with me for my entire life. We never should have crossed paths.”

“Even… the reason she likes me is that I saved her ten years ago, an event I can’t even remember.”

“Psychologically, this is also related to the Suspension Bridge Effect,” Nan Ke said. “When someone crosses a shaky bridge, their heart rate increases. If they happen to meet someone at that moment, they may misinterpret that physiological response as ‘heart-fluttering’ caused by the other person, thus breeding romantic feelings.”

“I accept that the catalyst for you getting together was her gratitude for you saving her years ago; they were a child, and such impressions are deep. But to say she likes you only because you saved her life? I cannot agree with that. Would you decide to be with someone you knew nothing about years later just because they saved you once?”

“I wouldn’t,” Cheng Yixin replied instantly.

“The foundation of love is mutual attraction. If someone wants to repay a debt of gratitude from years ago, there are many ways to do it without involving themselves romantically. If you persist in thinking she only likes you because of the past, you are underestimating yourself and denying her judgment as an adult. All the good luck in the world is just accumulated kindness. To be loved by someone so excellent, you must have your own unique charm.”

“As for the missing memory…” Nan Ke thought for a moment. “Do you remember the name of your desk-mate from third grade?”

Cheng Yixin tried to remember. She found that some classmates’ names felt completely foreign, and as for her desk-mate, she couldn’t even recall if they were a boy or a girl, let alone a name. “I don’t remember.”

“What about the student who sat in front of you in middle school?”

“…” Yixin thought for a while. “I don’t remember… I vaguely remember their face. A very skinny, dark-skinned boy. We used to whisper in class. We sat like that for half a semester before seats were changed. I really can’t remember the name.”

Yixin was shocked. “Am I getting early-onset Alzheimer’s?!”

“…” Nan Ke nearly choked. “No. Our brains automatically filter out unimportant memories. People or things that are deep down ‘unimportant’ to the self will fade. Saving someone is a major event for the person being saved, but for the person lending a hand, it can be a trivial deed forgotten the next moment. Your brain is desperately trying to frame a specific moment in time; the more anxious you are, the harder it is to recall. Relax. Maybe one day it will just pop into your head.”

The session ended there. Psychological counseling isn’t a one-time fix; today’s conversation gave her enough to digest for days. She scheduled her next visit for after her upcoming business trip.

Cheng Yixin put on her hat and mask, leaving the clinic like a thief. While waiting for the elevator, she saw a man sitting in the lounge area with his legs crossed, talking on the phone about where to get late-night snacks. He didn’t look at her once. Once the elevator doors closed, the man immediately put down his phone, glanced at the elevator, grabbed his bag, and followed.

Back at the Junshan neighborhood around 10:00 PM, Yixin subconsciously started toward the white house across the way before stopping. The house was dark, though a dim yellow light seemed to be on in the second-floor bedroom. Chi Yi was likely asleep. Since meeting Yixin, Chi Yi’s 9:00 PM bedtime had been pushed back by several hours; it seemed she was finally getting her old routine back.

Cheng Yixin went home. She wasn’t sleepy; her mind was a mess. She suddenly wanted to go for a run, so she rummaged through her closet for long-disused sportswear. Instead, she found a paper bag containing a white blazer and a white blanket with a deer pattern.

It was from their first date at the private cinema. Chi Yi had lent them to her. Later, when Chi Yi told her to come over and get her clothes, she found out they were neighbors, and they had gone to Chi Yi’s house before she could return them. They had never been returned.

Yixin took the blazer out. Even after all this time, it still held the faint scent of laundry detergent.

“Ah… I’m such a creep.” Realizing her behavior was a bit odd, she folded the blazer. Fearing she’d forget again, she hung it up on a hanger among her own clothes. Next time Chi Yi came over, she wouldn’t forget to give it back.

Her phone buzzed with a message from Chi Yi: “Goodnight. Get some rest.”

Yixin typed a reply.

[Cheng Yixin]: I’m going on a business trip to Yan City tomorrow for a show recording. I won’t be back until next week. Take care of yourself. [Chi Yi]: Will you bring me back a local specialty? [Cheng Yixin]: I will.

The filming location was only two hours from her grandparents’ home. Yixin thought she might find time to visit the temple where her grandmother had prayed for her safety amulet.

The next day, after finishing her morning work, Yixin flew straight to Yan City with her assistant. During the two-hour drive to the hotel, she scrolled through Weibo out of boredom. She noticed an unusual unread message in her DMs and immediately screenshotted it for Li Wenjing, then called her.

“What’s wrong? Did you land?” Li Wenjing asked.

“Landed. On my way to the hotel,” Yixin said. “I sent you a screenshot. A fan who bought oranges from the stream says there’s a quality issue. Follow up on it.”

Li Wenjing’s heart sank. Not another one! She checked the message and breathed a sigh of relief. “I’ve already handled this one. I refunded her and told Liu Min to re-ship. He agreed.”

“How does this even happen?” Yixin was confused. “Who sends out a box of rotten oranges? Do they not want to do business?”

“Liu Min said a temporary worker packed the wrong ones. It probably was just a mistake. It’s understandable to be overwhelmed with so many orders at once.” Li Wenjing was making excuses for him, but she was also comforting herself.

“If they can make this kind of mistake, there might be more than one ‘wrong’ box,” Yixin said, worried. “Everyone should be receiving their oranges now. Monitor the progress. If there’s a problem, we must resolve it immediately. Since I sold the goods, it’s not just Liu Min’s problem.”

“I know. I’ve already given the orders,” Li Wenjing said. “I still have access to Liu Min’s account. Worst case, we log in and process the refunds ourselves.”

As Li Wenjing spoke, someone knocked on her office door. A colleague from the IT department rushed in, pointing at a tablet. Li Wenjing’s expression turned grim.

“Yixin, I have to go. There’s something I need to handle. Focus on your work.”

The call ended. Li Wenjing took the tablet. On the screen was a post made one minute ago in Cheng Yixin’s “Super Topic” fan community. The gist: a fan was furious after receiving rotten oranges and, having no way to reach customer service, was venting their anger in the community.

The photos of the rotten fruit looked hauntingly familiar.