**Chapter 383: What Am I?**
In an instant, touching her nearly thirty-year-old "old face" and seeing the doting smile on Zhan Beijue's lips, Jiang Nanfang's heart churned with mixed emotions.
So *this* was the girl who had saved Zhan Beijue—so outstanding.
So *this* was how his mysophobia had been cured.
So *this* was the reason he had rushed back to China, risking everything—for *her*.
Though Zhan Beijue had never hidden Min'er's existence from her, seeing her in person was different.
Min'er wasn’t some pitiable figure Jiang Nanfang had imagined.
She was younger. More beautiful.
And for the first time in her life, Jiang Nanfang felt *inferior*.
Yes, that must be it—this sour, stinging, jealous ache she couldn’t openly show.
That was what they called *inferiority*.
Hearing Zhan Beijue’s voice suddenly ring out, Min'er had been too excited to think.
Assuming he was still the same Zhan Beijue she knew, she threw herself into his arms without hesitation.
Only after holding him for a long moment did she finally look up—and freeze.
His face was cleaner than she’d ever seen it.
His hair was neatly trimmed, styled flawlessly, complementing his sharp, striking features. He looked noble. *Regal*.
He wore a smoke-gray T-shirt, black casual pants, and deep brown leather shoes.
Simple, but the fabric screamed luxury.
Not a single wrinkle from head to toe—so polished, so refined, making his already tall frame appear even more statuesque.
Like a wealthy young master straight out of a drama.
Min'er’s smile stiffened.
She hadn’t washed her hands in her rush—she’d just hugged him. His clothes were definitely stained now.
*"Why are you dressed so nicely today? You should’ve warned me—I just saw!"*
*"Turn around, let me check. Did I get oil on you?"*
*"It’s fine—"*
*"Come on, turn around!"*
Obediently, Zhan Beijue turned.
Ten glaring fingerprints marked his back. Min'er groaned.
*"You—you barely started making money, and you’re already wasting it on fancy clothes? What’s the point of dressing up like this?"*
*"Especially knowing how things are here… Wait, weren’t you supposed to be gone for at least four months? Why are you back after just twenty days?"*
*"Did you do something big again? Tell me quick before the boss finds out!"*
Her own clothes were worn—a faded pink T-shirt, oil-stained pants, and scuffed shoes.
Apart from her face, everything about her screamed *shabby*.
Yet she didn’t care.
Around Zhan Beijue, she was completely at ease.
Zhan Beijue smiled but didn’t explain immediately. Instead, he turned and reached out to Jiang Nanfang.
*"I’ll tell you everything later. First, let me introduce someone. Nanfang, come here."*
She had been keeping a polite distance, but Zhan Beijue didn’t seem to care what Min'er thought.
He grabbed Jiang Nanfang’s hand, pulled her into his arms, and wrapped a possessive arm around her waist.
They stood close, united—as if silently declaring their bond.
Jiang Nanfang’s nose tingled with emotion. Finally, she felt a little better.
Zhan Beijue was showing her through actions: *We are inseparable. You have nothing to fear.*
Other women might stand by his side, but they were just *sisters*.
Min'er followed his gaze—and froze again.
She was staring at a goddess.
Truthfully, Switzerland had no shortage of beauties.
Women with sharper features, hotter bodies, more striking charm—she’d seen plenty.
But this woman…
Gentle yet bold, delicate yet strong, her beauty perfectly balanced with Zhan Beijue’s aura.
So fair. So elegant. So poised—like a swan spreading its wings.
*Exactly* the kind of woman Min'er had always dreamed of becoming.
*How…?*
Her mind buzzed. She couldn’t believe her eyes.
Zhan Beijue had *amnesia*.
For six months, he’d been with *her*—no other women.
Before leaving, he’d *knelt* before her father, promising to stay with her forever.
He *loved* her.
How could he fall for someone else in less than a month?
Min'er blinked hard, trying to dispel the illusion.
But no matter how many times she opened her eyes, the woman remained.
She watched as Zhan Beijue—now so refined, so handsome—pulled the stranger into his embrace, his hand resting possessively on her waist.
The promise ring was gone.
Zhan Beijue had thought long about how to explain Jiang Nanfang’s existence.
He worried Min'er might reject his offer to return to China with them.
But he refused to lie.
Back then, he hadn’t known the truth—and had unintentionally misled her.
Min'er was still young. He couldn’t keep stringing her along.
So he decided to lay everything out from the start.
*"Min'er, I owe you thanks. If not for you, I wouldn’t have gone to China. And if I hadn’t gone—"*
Min'er’s lips trembled. In fact, her *whole body* was shaking.
She didn’t care about the backstory—she just wanted answers.
*"Who is she? What is this supposed to mean?"*
*"Min'er, don’t—"*
Seeing her distress, Zhan Beijue reached for her, but Jiang Nanfang stepped in first.
*"Min'er, hello. I’m Jiang Nanfang—his wife. We’ve been married for years. We even have four children."*
*"Thank you for taking care of him after his accident. Without you, he wouldn’t have regained his memories. Our whole family is grateful."*
She smelled incredible.
Min'er recognized the scent—Jo Malone’s *Bluebell*, fresh and summery, perfect for her.
This woman had just delivered the cruelest news in the softest voice—and was so beautiful it was hard to hate her.
That was the true sting.
*"You’ve been married for years? Four children?"*
*"Yes. Here’s our marriage certificate and a family photo. See?"*
Jiang Nanfang had come prepared.
Min'er stared at the vibrant red marriage license, the four adorable children.
Finally, tear-filled eyes lifted to Zhan Beijue.
*"When I met you, you were alone. You *promised* never to leave me. You *promised* my father you’d marry me."*
*"So tell me—what am I now?"*
*"Min'er—"*
Beyond offering money, fulfilling her needs, taking her away—Zhan Beijue didn’t know what else to say.
*"Don’t explain to me. Go tell my father. I don’t want to hear it anymore."*