Chen Jiahang rubbed his temple at this time, with his eyes closed slightly. It seemed that he was about to recall something.
But in less than five seconds, he opened his eyes because of a headache, as painful as it was last time in the cinema.
Forget it. He didn't want to think about it. He couldn't remember it anyway. But he could use a computer.
"I don't know." He shook his head at He Xiyan, mouthing the words.
It was not that he didn't want to say it, but that he really couldn't remember it.
He Xiyan was silent again. Every time she asked him about his past, he seemed to say that he didn't know, and then just like this time, she didn't know how to go on with the question.
"And what else do you remember?" She asked further, feeling even more doubted.
Chen Jiahang patted his own head and then typed another line on the computer.
