“Is the memory fake?”
Chen Junnan and Qiao Jiajin voiced their doubts in unison.
“Mm.” Qin Dingdong nodded. “The reason I went to find Wei Yang was partly because I was genuinely pissed off by this bastard of yours… and partly because I really wanted to understand what the mindset of a ‘con artist’ is.”
“I don’t get it,” Chen Junnan said. “When I met you, you always called yourself a con artist. Didn’t you know what that mindset was?”
“That’s exactly what I find strange…” Qin Dingdong replied. “In my subconscious, I am a con artist because I vaguely remember working at a shabby matchmaking agency in the real world, where I was introduced to older men from out of town, specializing in fraudulent marriages for financial gain.”
“Huh?” Chen Junnan was taken aback. “Fraudulent marriages…? Why haven’t I heard you mention that before?”
“Because I never did,” Qin Dingdong answered. “It’s not exactly a glorious memory, and I didn’t see the need to tell everyone about it.”
“Then why do you say your memory is fake?” Chen Junnan pressed. “Did you realize you weren’t scamming old men but young guys instead?”
“No, if it were that simple, it’d be fine. But I spent a long time recalling my life…” Qin Dingdong said softly. “And no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t find any period in my life where I was a con artist.”
“I’m having trouble understanding…” Chen Junnan admitted. “Was your memory of being a con artist erased?”
“No… not exactly…” Qin Dingdong hesitated. “It’s hard to describe—even I don’t know where to begin. Chen Junnan, A-Jin… do you know what? My life is complete, with no gaps. I can even recall my first part-time job after high school, my first internship in college… all the way to when I quit my job and opened a bubble tea shop, and then the earthquake that happened while I was there. These memories are all perfectly intact.”
“That… that sounds great, doesn’t it?” Chen Junnan said.
“Yes, if that’s really how my life went…” Qin Dingdong said with a serious expression. “Then why have I always insisted I’m a con artist?”
Her simple question left Chen Junnan and Qiao Jiajin momentarily speechless.
After thinking for a while, Qiao Jiajin spoke up: “Hey, pretty lady… maybe that’s just your personality? A bit rough around the edges? Calling yourself a ‘con artist’ might’ve just been to scare people off.”
“Yeah, that’s what I hoped too,” Qin Dingdong nodded. “Making up an identity here to deter bad guys sounds perfectly reasonable. But then why do I remember my fraudulent acts so vividly? I mean… why can I clearly recall being someone who seduced old men for marriage scams? If I were just making up an identity, would I really go into such detail?”
Chen Junnan scratched his head slowly. He knew Qin Dingdong had a point.
Normally, a “con artist” is just a “con artist.” If the identity were fabricated, there’d be no need to invent specifics like “marriage scams.” She could’ve just claimed to be a fraudster—that would’ve been far more intimidating than “marriage scams.”
“Wait a second…” Chen Junnan suddenly thought of something else, his confusion deepening. “Sister Dong… what did you do wrong?”
“Wrong?”
“If your life unfolded exactly as you described… if you were just a bubble tea shop owner, why are you in the ‘Land of the End’? Did you break the law? Did you poison your tea with paraquat?”
Qin Dingdong narrowed her eyes. “That’s exactly the problem… Chen Junnan, I committed no crimes. If I were a ‘con artist,’ then it would make sense for me to be here. But in all my memories, I can’t find a single stain—that’s what baffles me the most.”
“So you suspect your memory is fake,” Chen Junnan concluded. “You suspect you’re actually a con artist?”
“Yes,” Qin Dingdong nodded. “I suspect the hazy memory of ‘marriage scams’ is my real life. After all, you know me—I’m not some genius-level swindler, but when it comes to scamming dowries from old men, I think my success rate would’ve been pretty high.”
“You sound almost proud of that…” Chen Junnan shook his head helplessly. “So… you’re saying you’re actually ‘innocent’?”
“Yes, but I don’t believe it,” Qin Dingdong said firmly. “Do you think there’s anyone in this world who’s flawless?”
“I… don’t know…” Chen Junnan shook his head. “You’ve never done anything wrong in your life?”
“Right,” Qin Dingdong nodded. “According to my current memories, my life has been too perfect. Not wealthy, but smooth-sailing. But is a smooth-sailing life even real? If every step goes exactly as planned, how is that any different from a dream?”
After a pause, she added, “No… even in dreams, things rarely go as we want, let alone in the ever-changing reality.”
Chen Junnan had no idea what to make of this.
The idea that “memory is fake” sounded utterly absurd. If it were amnesia or schizophrenia, he could understand. But an entire fabricated life? How could that even happen?
“Even if it’s ‘Echo,’ it’s too ridiculous…” Chen Junnan muttered. “This ‘Echo’ isn’t affecting the ‘Land of the End’—it’s affecting people directly?”
“Well…” Qin Dingdong said, “if you think it’s caused by ‘Echo,’ the bigger issue isn’t that it’s ‘affecting people,’ but that it’s altering the ‘past,’ the ‘outside,’ places we can’t see or touch. It might seem fake, but it’s happening for real.”
Chen Junnan sighed and asked, “Sister Dong… we can’t jump to conclusions yet. I think there’s another possibility.”
“What possibility?”
“How long has it been since you last lost your memory?” Chen Junnan asked. “Could it just be exhaustion?”
“Me…?” Qin Dingdong thought for a moment. “At least seven or eight years. Ever since I met this bastard of yours, I’ve remembered everything. The first thing Wei Yang taught me was how to stay sane.”
“What the hell?” Chen Junnan was stunned. “You learned ‘how to stay sane’ from Wei Yang?”
“Yeah,” Qin Dingdong nodded. “What’s wrong with that?”
“In his ‘farm choir’?” Chen Junnan’s face was full of disbelief. “Well, I get it now—you might’ve already gone crazy. You’re probably in a state of memory confusion.”
“Don’t talk nonsense,” Qin Dingdong kicked at him. “You know damn well whether I’m crazy or not.”
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