Achieving A Happy Ending With The Tragic Female Lead [Quick Transmigration] - Chapter 84

Under the cool night air, a hand suddenly pressed against the clean glass.

The five fingers spread across the surface were fair and slender. A hazy mist began to spread slowly from the point of contact. The pink tips of the fingers turned slightly white from the hidden force being applied, and invisible traces slowly tightened downward, as if carrying a hint of forbearance.

“Don’t… not here,” Guan Yue’s voice sounded as if she were about to cry.

Su Mi lowered her head, kissing along the line of her shoulder blade. “Don’t be afraid. The glass is one way.”

Only two scorched breaths remained in the air. In the next moment, another sound abruptly appeared, the sound of packaging being torn open, as if ripping a rift into the dark night.

Guan Yue leaned against the floor to ceiling window, turning her head slightly to watch the other’s movements.

Su Mi’s fingers were long and well-proportioned, her fingertips pointing slightly upward. The skin-friendly membrane adhered firmly around her knuckles, glowing with a jade-like luster under the soft, dim light.

“When did you buy this?”

Su Mi pressed against her again, her fingertips grazing the surface as she answered with a non-sequitur: “Takeout is very convenient these days.”

Guan Yue wanted to say that wasn’t what she was asking, but as soon as she opened her mouth, she bit her lower lip hard.

With almost no warning, it pushed in.

Her mind went almost blank, as if her throat were being squeezed, unable to make a single sound.

Two soft bodies pressed tightly together, time seemed to stand still at that moment.

Guan Yue pressed her forehead against the cool glass, her long, thick eyelashes trembling uncontrollably. The breath she exhaled carried a tumultuous heat, leaving a foggy patch on the glass.

Perched high in the skyscraper, one could overlook the night view of the river in the distance, where the colorful lights looked like a dream.

Standing behind her, Su Mi kissed Guan Yue’s sweat slicked neck, feeling the skin that felt like curdled jade.

In the distance, a boat moved forward, cutting through the water. Its sharp bow reduced the water’s resistance, allowing it to brave the wind and waves.

The advancing boat disappeared beneath the cross-river bridge until its hull was swallowed, blocked from sight.

Su Mi stroked Guan Yue’s sweat dampened cheek. The latter’s palm pushed against the window, her slender neck appearing dazzlingly white.

She let her tilted head fall onto Su Mi’s shoulder. Su Mi held the other’s sinking waist, turning her face to take the soft earlobe into her mouth.

A hand longer than Guan Yue’s covered hers, completely enveloping it against the glass.

Their scattered strands of hair intertwined, sweeping back and forth across their necks and shoulders.

Guan Yue suddenly leaned forward, the large area of icy contact made her jolt. A thick mist was sprayed onto the glass, dissipating and overlapping again and again.

Moving with difficulty, Su Mi slowly soothed her, her forehead covered in sweat steamed out by the heat.

Guan Yue’s half-closed eyes seemed to lose focus, her slightly parted lips were indescribably beautiful, and her lovely butterfly bones trembled slightly in the dark night.

A crystal-clear drop hung from Su Mi’s fingertip, wobbling before dripping onto the carpet at their feet, merging with the dark fibers.

The tides rose and gradually returned to peace.

Su Mi’s eyes curved slightly as she kissed the corner of the other’s eye.

She carried her to the sofa, her gaze naturally falling on that patch of snowy-white back. Her moist fingertips, having shed their covering, landed on that square of “snow.”

“This mark, why did you lie to me back then and say you didn’t have it?”

Guan Yue leaned sideways against the soft sofa, her long hair sticking to her sweaty neck, radiating a lazy aura.

Seeing her delay in answering, Su Mi pressed closer and asked, “Can’t you tell me?”

Guan Yue pushed her gently before finally speaking: “I was just thinking about how to say it.”

She shifted her body, curling into a comfortable position in Su Mi’s arms. Su Mi pulled a blanket over her, her hand kneading the soft flesh at the other’s waist.

“I didn’t have this mark before. It suddenly appeared during the summer break before high school started.”

Hearing that the mark appeared suddenly, Su Mi’s brow furrowed. “It appeared suddenly? It wasn’t there from birth?”

“Yeah. My parents are a bit superstitious because of their business, so they took me to a Taoist priest for a reading. That priest allegedly could divine the future and said a bunch of things. The gist was that this mark was left by my fated person, someone of high status and wealth, and a woman.”

Guan Yue couldn’t help but laugh as she reached this point. “That scared my parents to death. They treated the mark like a monster and began strictly monitoring my interactions with female classmates, terrified I would ‘go astray’ and not follow their wishes to marry and have children.”

As she spoke of these things, it was as if she were telling someone else’s story.

“But I was rebellious then. The more they forbade me, the more I wanted to do it. I insisted on being close to my female classmates, so they ‘locked’ me up. That summer, they barely let me take a step outside. If you hadn’t been away then, I definitely would have run off to stick to you.”

Su Mi recalled that such an event seemed to have happened, but she had been at a summer camp abroad at the time, so she didn’t know the specifics.

However, it was precisely after returning from that camp and starting the first year of high school that Guan Yue’s attitude toward her took a sharp downturn.

“Is that why you distanced yourself from me?”

Guan Yue glanced at her. “Of course not.”

“Then why?”

Guan Yue fell silent for a moment, idly playing with Su Mi’s hair.

“Do you remember when my family’s business had some trouble during our freshman year?”

At that time, a transformation project of the Guan family had run into issues, facing the risk of a broken capital chain. While losing that project wouldn’t bankrupt the company, it would have been a crippling blow.

Guan Yue’s parents were frantic every day. That was when they remembered the mark on Guan Yue and turned their eyes toward the Su family, who were still neighbors, but already significantly more powerful than the Guans.

The mark they had once despised and loathed had now become their life-saving talisman.

Guan Yue had a massive argument with them over it. She wanted to find Su Mi to vent about this ridiculous situation she had bottled up for so long.

She hadn’t told Su Mi before because she thought it was too absurd, and deep down, she didn’t want to talk about it with her, it felt strange.

This time, she really couldn’t hold it in. The Guan family guards and nannies knew her, so she entered unimpeded, only to stumble upon a conversation between Su Mi and her mother inside the house.

Mother Su knew the Guan family was in trouble and was instructing Su Mi to be careful in her dealings with Guan Yue, telling her to carefully discern people’s intentions and not be used.

Su Mi had her head down, doing something unknown, and calmly replied to her mother that she understood.

Although Guan Yue usually acted impatient with Su Mi, she actually viewed her as the most important person besides her parents. Yet Su Mi showed no intention of defending her against those words.

On one side were her frantic parents, on the other was a friend who didn’t trust her. At sixteen, Guan Yue felt there was no one behind her.

“That’s why I hated you. How much did you not trust me?” Even today, the more Guan Yue thought about it, the angrier she got, directly biting Su Mi’s shoulder to vent.

That was why, when she heard Madam Duan’s lines, she would always daze out, feeling as if she had returned to that afternoon, seeing the scene of Mother Su talking to Su Mi.

Listening to her words, Su Mi’s eyebrows were almost knitted together. “You misunderstood me. I wasn’t even listening to her then. I was preparing practice problems for you.”

Guan Yue recalled that back then, no wonder the first thing this person did upon seeing her was hand over a thick workbook.

“I don’t care, it was your fault anyway,” Guan Yue declared finality.

Su Mi held her tighter, her low, soft voice falling by Guan Yue’s ear: “I’m sorry.”

This “I’m sorry” was spoken for the sixteen-year-old Guan Yue.

Guan Yue turned her head, resting her cheek gently on Su Mi’s shoulder, only speaking after a long pause: “Silly.”

But before the warmth of the moment could pass, Guan Yue suddenly let out a startled gasp.

“Su, are you ever going to stop?”

“I bought several types. Shouldn’t we try them all?” Su Mi casually pulled open a drawer under the coffee table.

“You’re crazy! Why did you buy so many!” Guan Yue tried to push her away and run, but her waist was gripped tight, making it impossible to move.

“Let’s try them. Pick the one you like.”

The next day, Guan Yue slept until noon. After waking up, she received a call from an unknown number.

She hung up the first time, but the caller dialed three times in a row. She finally picked up, only to find the person on the other end was the “sister” she hadn’t spoken more than a hundred words to in total.

The other woman had somehow found out about Guan Yue’s parents confronting her and called specifically to apologize.

The two had rarely communicated. After clarifying the purpose of the call, they fell into a long silence.

“Guan Yue, actually, I’ve envied you since the first moment I saw you,” Guan Xin said over the phone.

“Is that so? What do you envy?” Guan Yue followed along.

“I envy your brightness and vibrancy, and that carefree, unrestrained spirit to just leave whenever you want.” Guan Xin’s tone was filled with genuine envy.

They were both exquisite dolls raised by their respective parents, but Guan Yue had the courage to break herself and rebuild.

Guan Yue let down her guard. “Well, now the blame for your wedding escape is truly going to be pinned on me.”

On the other end, Guan Xin laughed heartily for the first time, discarding her gentle, refined disguise to reveal a unique sharp edge.

Guan Yue said softly, “Congratulations on escaping.”

Guan Xin’s voice was firm: “Mm! Congratulations to us.”

Guan Yue didn’t ask why she fled the wedding, and the other didn’t mention her reasons.

Back then, due to a nurse’s mistake, the two Guan families had swapped their lives. Though they shared no blood, at this moment, they felt an emotional resonance.

“Then… goodbye.”

“Goodbye.”

The following spring, The Jade Waist Slave held its premiere in Yun City. They invited the leads, media, and several lucky audience members chosen via an official platform draw to watch the film together.

Su Mi and Guan Yue naturally arrived together. The biased director had arranged the best viewing spots for them, with the surrounding seats left empty.

The old lady seen once before on set appeared again today. She was dressed particularly formally, as if meeting someone very important.

Before the start, Guan Yue pulled the director aside to ask again, “Director, what kind of ending did you edit?”

The director smiled exceptionally happily: “You’ll see in a moment.”

The theater lights dimmed, and the film began.

The film opened with a woman’s monologue. As familiar scenes were edited together fluidly, the story began to be told.

The film was divided into three short chapters: Spinning the Cocoon, Transforming in the Cocoon, and Becoming a Butterfly. Each stage corresponded to the protagonist’s experiences.

When Duan Yuebai and Qi Youwei appeared together, a gasp of amazement rippled through the theater.

The heartbeat of the first meeting, the soul-stirring second encounter, the fates of the two female leads were woven together. Invisible silk threads wound around them, unbreakable and uncuttable.

The director’s visual language replaced dialogue perfectly, every frame was worthy of being screenshotted and saved.

The feelings wrapped beneath the skin had nowhere to hide, eventually turning into a surge of heat that merged into their marrow.

They touched the orderly black and white piano keys together, walked the ancient blue-stone path of incense, and stood hand in hand before the merciful Bodhisattva to piously make a wish.

The ambiguity of the rainy night was hidden in the sound of the rain, and the scalding sweat merged into the night, fleeting.

Driven forward by the era, the two eventually reached the crossroads of fate. The silk threads gradually wrapped them into a fully formed cocoon.

Duan Yuebai, searching for her loved one, failed to see her. She was stopped by someone she had helped, who informed her she was being watched and that the person beside her had already fallen into the abyss.

Duan Yuebai disregarded everything to try and take Qi Youwei out of that tiny prison. She even went back to beg her mother.

On the day the deal was struck, the sky was clear, a good omen.

Duan Yuebai stood outside the thorny fence, waiting restlessly for her lover.

The closed door opened. A frail Qi Youwei was escorted out, her blue dress fluttering in the wind. A smear of dried, deep-colored blood remained on her neck.

Seeing Duan Yuebai, she broke free from her captors’ restraints and walked toward her, step by firm, slow step.

Duan Yuebai rushed forward, first gripping her cold, slender fingertips, then pulling her completely into her embrace.

Atop the watchtower, the eldest son of the Li family, whose marriage proposal Duan Yuebai had rejected, watched the embracing figures below coldly. He idly played with a handgun in his hand.

Bang!

The sound of the gunshot overlapped with an explosion, startling two butterflies resting on a branch.

The world-shaking vibration followed. The ground cracked and scattered, and gray-white walls were blown apart to reveal the bricks within.

The camera panned up to a clear sky. The sound of a passing plane, the gunshots, and the crying were all wrapped in a distant place, indistinct.

In the background, a conversation between Duan Yuebai and Qi Youwei at the Buddhist temple played.

Yuebai, look, butterflies.

You like them?

I do. They have to break out of their cocoons to become butterflies before they can go to a place of freedom.