John abruptly grabbed Phyllis's hand, pulling her towards a hidden passage in the ballroom. He knew this was a trap set by the "Shadow" organization, but it was also his breakthrough point for a counterattack. Phyllis didn't hesitate for a second, following John closely. She could feel the warmth of his palm, the strength emanating from his grasp. She knew he was protecting her with his life, and she, in turn, was willing to entrust her life to him.
The fierce battle throughout the castle continued, but John and Phyllis had charged into an even deeper battlefield. They would confront the core of the "Shadow" organization, expose all their conspiracies, and fully reclaim their past. In the baptism of blood and fire, their love was no longer obscured by the fog of amnesia; it became even more steadfast and profound. This battle was not only for the truth but also for their shared future.
The intense struggle lasted for an unknown duration until the gunshots and explosions within the castle gradually subsided, and the smell of gunpowder slowly dissipated. John and Phyllis, covered in blood and exhaustion, finally retreated through the hidden passage, met by Kevin and Lynn. The Yafei family's security team had controlled the situation; most of the "Shadow" organization's operatives were subdued, with only a few escaping in the chaos.
John's shoulder wound was still bleeding, his face frighteningly pale. The violent resurgence of his memories, coupled with the prolonged, high-intensity fighting, had pushed him to his physical limits; he had endured until now purely by sheer willpower. The moment he was out of danger, his body swayed violently. Had Phyllis not quickly caught him, he would have collapsed.
"Mr. Zhuo!" Kevin and Lynn immediately stepped forward, their eyes filled with concern and respect. They had never seen John so disheveled, nor had they ever witnessed such a complete eruption of his strength.
"Take him to my private villa," Phyllis commanded in a low voice, a subtle tremor in her tone. She knew John's wound needed immediate attention, and he desperately needed a secure, quiet environment to process the overwhelming influx of memories.
John was carefully transported back to his private villa, where Dr. Elina was already waiting. She quickly examined his injuries and provided emergency treatment. Phyllis remained by his bedside, watching Dr. Elina's busy movements, her heart heavy. Although John's life wasn't in danger, excessive blood loss and the immense shock from his memories returning had plunged him into a deep coma.
The night was deep, and the villa was silent, broken only by the faint hum of medical equipment and Dr. Elina's occasional hushed words. Phyllis sat by the bed, gently holding John's cold hand. His palm was rough and strong, still carrying the faint scent of blood from the fight, yet at this moment, it felt so fragile. She watched his tightly furrowed brows, as if he were still enduring immense pain in his dreams.
"He'll be fine, Miss Phyllis," Dr. Elina softly reassured her. "Mr. Zhuo has a very strong will. He just needs time to rest and process."
Phyllis nodded, saying nothing. She knew John's memories had returned, but this return came with immense suffering. She recalled his tormented expression as he murmured "Yaya," and the flicker of confusion and struggle in his eyes. Her heart ached.
Dr. Elina finished her work and left Phyllis alone to watch over John. Phyllis gently tucked the blanket around John. Her gaze inadvertently fell on the bedside table. There lay John's private phone and the cufflink he never took off. She picked up the cufflink, her fingertips tracing the Yafei family emblem on it, her eyes complex. This cufflink was the only token she had found on him five years ago, and her only clue in searching for him.
Her gaze then swept to the other side of the bedside table, where a notebook lay casually. Curious, she picked it up and opened it. The notebook was densely filled with medical terms, psychological theories, and even notes on "memory suppression" and "hypnotherapy." Phyllis's heart sank. John had indeed been investigating his memory issues all along!
She continued to flip through the pages. Suddenly, on the last page of the notebook, she found an old, somewhat yellowed, folded photograph. Phyllis carefully unfolded it. It was a blurry group photo; the background appeared to be the ruins of that accident five years ago, with fires raging and thick smoke billowing. The two people in the photo were disheveled, covered in dust and blood, but they clung tightly to each other, their faces showing the relief of surviving a catastrophe and a touch of inexpressible deep affection.
Though the photo was blurry, Phyllis recognized herself and John at a glance. Her heart trembled violently, and tears instantly blurred her vision. This was the photo John had taken with his damaged phone at the very last moment, five years ago, when they were trapped in the ruins! She had thought that photo had been lost forever with the phone's destruction. She never imagined John had kept it! And he had carefully tucked it into the notebook where he researched memory.
"John..." Phyllis whispered softly, her voice thick with emotion, tears streaming down her cheeks. She pressed the photo tightly to her chest, feeling the faint warmth emanating from it, as if she could feel John's perseverance and pain over these five years, clinging to this memory.
Just then, John's eyelids fluttered slightly. Phyllis sharply lifted her head, seeing him weakly open his eyes. His gaze was no longer the cold indifference and confusion of the past, but held a complex mix of emotions: pain, struggle, but more so, a long-lost, profound tenderness and clarity. He looked at Phyllis, his gaze falling on the photo in her hand.
"Phyllis..." John's voice was hoarse and weak, with a trace of unbelievable pain and yearning. "You... you still have it."
Phyllis looked at him through tear-filled eyes, clutching the photo tightly, a thousand words caught in her throat, unable to utter a single one. She knew that this photo was the most genuine proof deep within John's memory, and the only secret he had kept about them during five years of pretense and suffering.
A flicker of pain crossed John's eyes. He struggled to lift his hand, seemingly wanting to touch the photo in Phyllis's hand, but finally, it fell back weakly. He looked at her, his eyes filled with apology and love.
"Phyllis..." he murmured again, his voice trembling slightly. "I'm sorry... I... I didn't forget you."
Phyllis could no longer control her emotions. She leaned forward, burying her head in John's chest, her tears soaking his thin shirt.