Stroking her forehead, she smoothed her hair while speaking faintly.
"Emperor Quan, I will never be able to remember again."
Sensing the desolation in her words, Emperor Quan reached out with his right hand and firmly grasped hers.
"Perhaps it's a good thing that you can't remember."
The man's voice was pleasing to the ear, providing Zhan Se with a momentary sense of calm in her unsettled mind. She didn't quickly retract her hand, allowing him to hold it as she softly shared her melancholic thoughts, "Heh, I've compressed my own memories inside my head, yet I can't find a way to decompress them. Isn't that funny?"
Emperor Quan's warm, dry hand squeezed hers again, as a form of consolation.
"Don't think too much, with the time you have to spare, it's better to think about."
It had been many years since she had any concept of the Mid-Autumn Festival.
