If the Deep Sea Forgets You

Translator: Atlas Studios Editor: Atlas Studios

After he left, the two of them stood in silence at the ward's entrance, both silent.

Mo Han softened his tone. "Stay in the hospital, wait until your body is fully recovered. Then I'll send you to the police station and I'll find out where your family lives."

The girl was stubborn. "I'm not going to the police station."

Mo Han got quite angry. "You're an amnesiac, you're injured, and you don't want to stay in the hospital. Nor do you want to go to the police station. Tell me, where can you go? Look at yourself, nobody would care even if you died outside!"

The girl kept her head lowered; her abdomen was still in some pain. She leaned against the wall weakly and did not look back at him. "I've been unconscious in the hospital for one month. Nobody came to look for me. If my family wanted to look for me, they would've already come to see me while I was dying."

"It's fine as long as one person comes to see me… As long as they tell me, who I am and why I'm here."

The hospital was eerily quiet at three in the morning. The bright whiteness of the hospital corridors was piercing to the eyes. Only the two of them were in the hallway, debating where to go as the tension built up. Mo Han could not see her expression as she bent her back and leaned against the wall. She was wearing an oversized gray blouse. He found it a jarring sight and was unsure of what he was feeling in his heart at that instant.

After a rather long time, he thought back to the scene at the hospital. It was then that he finally understood. That was the sensation of heartache.

The present him had yet to realize that the girl had begun to creep into his life silently.

"Let's go." The girl heard Mo Han's gentle voice, as though he had acquiesced.

"Where are we going?"

"My home." He turned around, the sound of his footsteps gradually sounding.

In the quiet and dim hospital corridor, she could hear the man's steady footsteps. He walked in front and she followed behind. She stopped her footsteps as she saw the tiny light at the end of the corridor and the man's long, muscular build. At that instant, she felt that he was leading her towards the outside world.

It was as though she could only trust him.

Perhaps, from the very first look, she had felt that he would give her a sense of security.

By the time Mo Han had driven her back to his place, it was already four in the morning.

He switched on the lights quickly as the girl surveyed her surroundings. The first impression she had of his home was one that it was cold and bleak, just like him. The gray and white color scheme was very minimalist. His home was very clean and even the wooden flooring had very little dust, but it was empty and there were very few decorative items.

After a cursory glance, she knew he was rarely at home. She felt like she had entered a workaholic's home.

"In a moment you can sleep here in this guest room. If you are cold, the blankets are all inside the cupboard." Mo Han opened a door and explained to her.

"My room is next to yours. If there's anything you need, you can let me know."

After saying this, Mo Han glanced at her once again and paused for a while. "Why don't you get changed. If you don't mind, you can wear my clothes first."

The girl stared down at her own crumpled, gray, blood-spotted top and blue-and-white hospital bottoms. She did not retort, for even she did not want to wear such a depressing outfit.

"In the morning I'll have to go to the office. You can take a rest first. We can have a proper discussion about your problems again in the evening when I'm back."

The girl did not speak, paying attention to his every word. At that moment, she had no reason to dispute him.

Mo Han took out a long-sleeved cotton top and long pants which he seldom wore and passed it to her. "So that's that. Get some sleep first."

Mo Han closed the door and left when he heard her call out to him. "Um… thanks."

She looked at herself, a small smile creeping across her mouth as she spoke with a very sincere voice.

From the time he had first met her, he had never once seen her smile.