Momnesia.

She knew what it was. More often than not, even in her real world, people also called momnesia its other name. ’Pregnancy brain’.

Also ’baby brain’, or, you know, gestational cognitive impairment.

She immediately googled it and came to find out it was not an old wife’s tale at all. It was real. A genuine, medically documented phenomenon in which pregnant women experienced memory lapses, brain fog, confusion, and difficulty concentrating.

The hormones, the fatigue, the massive, fundamental restructuring of the body’s resources as it redirected blood flow and nutrients toward the growing baby, all of it combined to turn a perfectly functional brain into something that forgot where it had put its keys, or why it had walked into a room.

Or, in extreme cases, what had happened a month and a half ago.

Bin to the go, bingo.

Cecilia stared at her phone and the screen glowed back at her, offering article after article, study after study, the collective testimony of millions of pregnant women who had temporarily lost pieces of their own minds to the demands of growing a new life.

Eureka!

She could claim to have it, plausibly and reasonably. The full backing of medical science and the sympathetic understanding of anyone who had ever been pregnant or knew someone who was—she could weaponize that!

If she forgot details about how she had met the three men, or if she asked questions that seemed strange and needed them to fill in the gaps, she could simply blame it on the baby!

It was already stealing her calcium, it made sense if it stole her short-term memory in equal measure!

Perfect!

Now, let us plan some well-placed strange questions!

Beep, beep, beep, beep, beep—

Cecilia heard the front door open.

"I’m home."

She flinched upright on her bed, her phone tumbling from her lap onto the duvet. Oathran’s warm voice drifted through the apartment. It was nine in the morning, the usual time he returned from his overnight shift of rift-closing and ingredient hunting.

"Oathran~!"

She scrambled off the bed, her bare feet padding across the smooth floor, rounded the corner into the living room and stopped.

A floating giant bouquet of flowers emerged. Again. It was another enormous, billowing cloud of white lilies, so large it seemed to have its own gravitational field. It was drifting toward her like a fragrant, petal-laden moon.

"Huh?"

She had made the exact same reaction last week.

Oathran appeared from behind the bouquet, his mist grey eyes crinkling with amusement.

"But the flowers from a week ago are still..." Cecilia blinked, looking around the apartment. Every vase they owned, and several they had purchased specifically for this purpose, was filled with gorgeous lilies.

The original bouquet had been so enormous that she had been forced to distribute the blooms throughout the entire apartment, turning every surface into a miniature garden.

"Yes," Oathran pushed the flowers aside just enough to lean down and press a kiss to the top of her head. "But let’s replace the ones in your room with fresh flowers. Flowers are never a waste, alright?"

Cecilia looked at him reluctantly. Though she wasn’t clear about what she was reluctant about.

"You are going to your part-time job at McKing today, right?"

"You keep saying I should continue working there. So I will." Oathran said patiently. Though he also had this little stubborn tone to it. "I will still ask you again, though. I want to resign. Can I resign?"

"Nooooooo," Cecilia whined. She clutched at his arm, eyes wide and beseeching. "Because you look... kinda hot in the uniform..."

Oathran coughed and cleared his throat. His cheeks flushed a little pink. He hadn’t yet gotten used to this woman’s unfiltered praise.

"Mmm, the first time I saw you in it, I thought, are they filming a commercial for McKing?" Cecilia said in a dreamy tone, "Surely this man can’t be a real employee."

"Ahem. Ahem." Oathran’s cough had become a chuckle. "I’m also curious why they have not asked me to film one yet."

There! The first gamble, successful! They had met after Oathran became a McKing employee.

Finally, her timeline was narrowing.

Also, Oathran had told her about his past as a three-star restaurant’s chef during that conversation at the steakhouse, speaking of it as though she hadn’t already known.

Which meant they had met after he resigned from his restaurant, after he became a burger-flipper. And according to Google, the latest increased rift outbreak cycle had started three years ago.

Sooooo, Oathran had quit his ten-year chef position around three years ago. Which meant they had met sometime within that three-year window.

Good job, brain!

Now came the risky part. The momnesia question.

"Hmm." She tilted her head, acting into the part of someone who was trying very hard to remember something that was just out of reach. "I do remember the first time I saw you in that uniform... but was that the first time I met you, though...?"

She batted her eyes at him innocently. "Remind me again~?" She lilted sweetly. "I think I have a bit of that... ’baby brain’..."

Silence.

Ah, shit! What’s wrong?!

Oathran set the enormous bouquet down on the kitchen island carefully. The white lilies rustled softly, their fragrance filling the apartment, but his pale eyes, when they turned back to her, had changed.

They were worried. There was a faint crease between his brows and a slight downturn of his lips. His hand immediately rose to press against her forehead as though checking for a fever.

"Hmm..." He hummed thoughtfully. "I think you need more supplements. Do you feel a... brain fog? Doctors said memory issues in pregnancies can be a sign of some kind of deficiency, especially with the egg drawing so much from your body."

"Have you been taking the pills Lazuardi prescribed? All of them? At the right times?"

Ah.

She should have known. Of course this man would catch on to her supposed "momnesia" with immediate bone-deep worry.

Forget questioning her story, he immediately questioned her health. Was he already preparing to drag her back to the dragon doctor, or probably already calculating the fastest flight route to Lazuardi’s clinic?

"I am fine~" Cecilia said, her hand rising to cover his where it still rested against her forehead. She squeezed his fingers gently. "No, just... tell me what you thought of me when we first met. Okay? I want to hear it from your perspective."

Oathran’s worried expression softened. His hand slid from her forehead to cup her cheek, his thumb tracing the curve of her cheekbone.

"Hmm..." He smiled, seemingly remembering things. "You were cool."

Eh?

"I can’t believe you would forget that day," he continued, his smile widening by a fraction.

Eh? Was that day... that eventful?

Had she made a mistake by asking...?

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Alright, guys! This Chapter concludes the second half of the 12 Chapters mass release!

Again, happy birthday Webnovel! And enjoy!

See you guys tomorrow with normal updates! ♥️