After Being Reborn, My Ex-Girlfriend Became Obsessed - Chapter 48
After the sports meet, Lin Duxi’s reputation at Jiangcheng No. 2 High School soared even higher. Previously, people had only heard that Lin Duxi was a beautiful top student, but had never seen her in person. Now, they realized that she wasn’t only academically excellent, but also physically strong—she had won first place in the 3,000-meter race at the sports meet!
Some students had also sneaked their phones during the sports meet and filmed her race. The video was posted online, attracting a lot of attention. Lin Duxi became a complete celebrity in the school.
An Yu had watched the video. Whether it was from the school account or not, the camera work was terrible. She impatiently dragged the progress bar to barely watch it and could only see Lin Duxi’s small figure. She scrolled through the comment section and saw screenshots of Lin Duxi running—they looked beautiful, and the comments were full of agreement.
So An Yu downloaded the video and took screenshots frame by frame until her photo album was full of pictures of Lin Duxi. Her heart thumped violently in her chest. Blushing, she stored all the pictures in a private album, as if this way Lin Duxi wouldn’t appear in front of her.
A month passed. The lingering influence of the sports meet still affected the students of Jiangcheng No. 2 High School. However, Lin Duxi remained completely indifferent, sticking to her daily study routine. Every time she returned to her desk, there would be extra notes and milk tea, but her deskmate would tilt her head and ignore her, lips pouting to the sky.
Young girls didn’t know how to hide their feelings—they wore their thoughts on their foreheads, letting others guess.
Lin Duxi liked this reaction of hers.
“These things… what should I do with them? So troublesome,” she said as she tidied up the extra items, sounding annoyed. An Yu lay on her desk, ignoring her.
Lin Duxi smiled and deliberately leaned over: “Do you know what to do with these, An Yu?”
An Yu buried her head in her arms. Annoying! Lin Duxi kept calling her “An Yu,” “An Yu…” Not even her parents called her that.
“Don’t call me An Yu…”
Lin Duxi looked pitiful: “You don’t like it? Alright, then I won’t do it anymore.”
An Yu felt a slight spasm in her chest. She turned her head to look at the dry branches outside the window. Winter had arrived; the scenery was dull. Watching the leaves hanging precariously from the branches, she let out an involuntary sigh.
Actually… it wasn’t that she disliked it. She didn’t say it, and Lin Duxi never brought it up either. Their relationship, on the edge of intimacy, seemed frozen in place, circling and hesitating, unable to move forward.
The love letters and milk tea delivered to Class Three gradually decreased, and everything seemed to return to its original routine. An Yu gradually grew distant from Lin Duxi, interacting with her like an ordinary classmate. After changing seats, their communication decreased.
Occasionally, when An Yu chatted with others, her gaze would drift to Lin Duxi, but she pretended not to notice. After school, they unconsciously walked a few steps apart, separated by nearly ten meters, exiting the school gate without interaction.
Strange yet reasonable, awkward yet tacitly understood.
Before they knew it, the first snowfall of the year came, then the second. An Yu watched the snowflakes falling outside, clasped her hands, wishing they could freeze the burning blood in her veins, freeze the entire winter.
An Yu spent her high school sophomore year in this chaotic state of mind.
When the final exams for the sophomore year came, she performed terribly. Her usually energetic parents, An Zong and Yu Zong, came home for the first time in a while to see her plummeting grades. Their faces were dark.
An Yu looked at their gloomy faces, feeling a wave of satisfaction and smugness.
“See? This is the daughter you’ve worked so hard to raise, the daughter you never cared about. Scared, aren’t you? Frightened?”
In this situation, An Yu thought that if she didn’t study, her parents would come home to check on her, so she became even more rebellious. Her parents were helpless.
Eventually, they locked her at home, several tutors coming one after another, forming a circle to watch her do homework. Exhausted, one night under a dark and windy sky, she slapped a note on the table, slung a small backpack filled with her savings on her back, and sneaked out.
Wiping sweat from her face, this was the farthest she had ever gone outside besides running 800 meters. She didn’t want to leave home—just needed a break. Being almost an adult, she thought her parents would understand.
An Yu didn’t go to Shi Yu’s house. Knowing that she had left, her parents would surely check there first. She took a car to another part of the city, across from her home, and found a hotel to stay overnight.
The next day, she took out her phone, planning where to wander. She wanted at least a week outside, away from suffocating teachers.
It wasn’t until the afternoon that she slowly left the hotel. Hungry and exhausted, she stopped at a random restaurant to fill her stomach.
Afternoon restaurants were usually empty, with only a single waiter wiping tables. An Yu quickly sat down. Their eyes met as the waiter turned around.
An Yu didn’t believe in destiny, but at that moment, she felt a strange sense of déjà vu and realized her appearance was a little messy.
“An Yu.” Lin Duxi’s voice was slightly surprised. She held a menu, looked around to ensure no one was near, and spoke softly.
“What a coincidence,” An Yu said gently, star-like light flickering in her eyes.
This was the first time in almost a year they spoke to each other. An Yu felt an inexplicable mist rising in her eyes and looked down at the menu, embarrassed.
Lin Duxi’s words alone made An Yu feel like crying. Too humiliating!
“I’ll have this, this, this, this,” An Yu randomly pointed to many dishes on the menu. Lin Duxi smiled gently.
“You’re ordering so much… can you eat it all?”
“I can eat a whole cow,” An Yu said, closing her eyes to suppress her emotions. When she opened them, she had regained her usual composure.
Lin Duxi smiled and walked back with the menu.
An Yu had overestimated herself. After tasting each dish once, she was full. Embarrassed, she met Lin Duxi’s burning gaze and said,
“Come, eat with me.”
Lin Duxi didn’t refuse, removed her apron, sat opposite her, and began eating heartily.
An Yu marveled at her lack of hesitation, watching her eat so boldly. Words churned in her throat but sank back down.
“This is your relative’s place?” she asked casually, remembering Lin Duxi lived in an orphanage. She quickly closed her mouth.
Lin Duxi didn’t stop eating, lowering her head to her bowl.
“It’s where I work.”
An Yu was momentarily stunned, not knowing how to respond. After thinking for a while, she mumbled,
“You’re an adult now?”
Lin Duxi paused, then looked up: “I guess so.”
An Yu frowned: “Guess so? That’s ambiguous. Either you are or you aren’t. Yes or no?”
Lin Duxi laughed softly, her clear eyes sparkling like a galaxy: “Are you reciting a tongue twister?”
An Yu: “…You’re eating the customers’ food at work?” She deliberately tried to threaten her, claws bared.
“My boss is sleeping inside. He doesn’t know, and I believe you won’t tell him,” Lin Duxi said, reaching to touch her.
“How do you know I won’t tell him?” An Yu tilted her head. Her pent-up emotions were dissipated by the cool breeze.
Their childish conversation drifted in the summer breeze, caught by the shadows of the trees outside. Clear and crisp.
After the meal, An Yu wanted to leave. She slung her backpack over her shoulders and walked slowly toward the door, pausing as she reached it.
“Do you know anywhere fun around here?” she asked Lin Duxi.
Lin Duxi paused while holding a cloth, thinking: “There’s a small hill nearby with a wooden tower. You need a ticket to go up. I haven’t been there.”
An Yu nodded: “Let’s go.”
Lin Duxi looked at her, a little stunned. An Yu said, “You only told me the hill is nearby. I don’t know the exact address. You’ll take me there.”
Lin Duxi absently put down the cloth: “I’ll ask my boss for leave.” But An Yu grabbed her wrist and ran outside.
“At this hour, no one will come except someone like me with nothing to do. If you ask for leave, the boss will deduct your pay. We’ll just go for a bit. He won’t notice.”
Lin Duxi looked at her back. Her long hair brushed her cheek—it tickled, but she liked it.
Even if scolded by her boss, Lin Duxi thought, she would still accompany An Yu.
The hill was really a small hill. They only walked a few steps before reaching the top. The wooden tower required tickets, 150 each. An Yu looked around and saw it was broken and unremarkable. She put her money away. The two walked along the hill’s small path, sitting on the ground to rest when tired, caring little if it was dirty.
Among the lush trees were the sounds of insects and birds. Sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting bright patterns on the girls—radiant and stunning.
An Yu looked up at the sky. Dark clouds had gathered, making the air sticky. A few raindrops fell on the back of her hand shielding her from the sun.
Jiangcheng’s weather was unpredictable. In an instant, a downpour started. An Yu and Lin Duxi ran through the trees, hurrying down the hill.
An Yu opened her backpack, took out an umbrella, and held it over them. But the rain was too heavy for the small umbrella to cover both.
“An… An Yu, you hold it. I’ll just go shower later,” Lin Duxi said, pushing the umbrella toward her.
An Yu, half soaked, remembered Lin Duxi during the sports meet, elegantly frowning, and subtly tilted the umbrella toward her.
“My body’s strong! This little rain is nothing!” An Yu said, unintentionally tilting the umbrella toward Lin Duxi again.
They found a closed shop nearby and took shelter under the eaves.
The heavy rain seemed to shrink the world to just them. An Yu was soaked and shivering. Lin Duxi unconsciously leaned closer, her elbow brushing An Yu’s.
“An Yu, I’m a little cold. Can I hold your hand?” Lin Duxi asked, not waiting for an answer and grasping An Yu’s hand, fingers pressing firmly into hers.
An Yu’s body went numb. She retaliated by gripping Lin Duxi’s hand tightly. Under the narrow eaves, the atmosphere gradually warmed. An Yu was drenched but her heart burned fiercely.
“The boss at my job gives me quite a bit of pay,” Lin Duxi said, feeling a sense of safety in the small space, letting her emotions spill out.
This was the first time she spoke to An Yu about such things. An Yu listened quietly, holding her hand.
“During the day, I work here. At night, I return to the orphanage. Customers often leave food, which the boss gives us. No one knows anyway.”
Sensing An Yu’s grip tightening, Lin Duxi paused, then smiled at her.
“Today is my birthday. Can you wish me happy birthday? I want you to do it.” Her eyes were clear, yet filled with silent pleading.
Don’t reject me… please, I only have you. Lin Duxi thought, concealing it behind her calm face.
An Yu’s breath stopped. Looking at Lin Duxi like this, she felt a sudden shyness—a feeling from deep within.
Her heart felt crushed, her organs aching. Meeting Lin Duxi’s gaze, her lips parted.
“Happy birthday.”
Lin Duxi’s smile grew wider. The rain cleared An Yu’s vision, and she could only see the tenderness in Lin Duxi’s eyes.
“Can I hug you?” Lin Duxi asked again.
This time, without waiting, An Yu hugged her. Like two birds soaked by the storm, they held each other for warmth.
“You can call me whatever you want from now on,” An Yu said softly, almost drowned out by the rain.
Lin Duxi heard her, eyes glistening, tightening her hold. An Yu felt slightly suffocated, trying to pull away, only to be hugged tighter.
“Anytime?”
“Whenever you want. Even at school, you can call me.”
“An… An Yu,”
“What?”
“Nothing, I just want to call you… An Yu, An Yu,” Lin Duxi murmured in her ear like a clear spring.
The rain lessened. An Yu’s first sight wasn’t the clean, empty street, but the familiar license plate of a car.
She had anticipated her parents’ arrival and felt no fear, clutching Lin Duxi’s hand tighter.
“My parents are here. I have to go.”
Lin Duxi smoothed her hair: “Okay.”
Although An Yu didn’t mention her runaway, Lin Duxi likely guessed.
An Yu handed the umbrella to Lin Duxi and let go of her hand, walking to her mother, Yu Yingzhen, who had been frowning but now couldn’t help feeling concern at An Yu’s drenched state.
“What did you do, An Yu? Go home and shower.”
An Yu turned. Her father was talking to Lin Duxi, perhaps thanking her for taking care of her.
“I want Lin Duxi to tutor me,” she said, ignoring her mother.
“Why?”
“Lin Duxi is first in the class and third in the school. She teaches me better than those tutors. At least she won’t nag in my ear,” An Yu said, swallowing the rest of the sentence. She actually liked Lin Duxi’s teaching.
Yu Yingzhen glanced at Lin Duxi, then An Yu: “How can you be so sure she’ll teach you?”
An Yu quietly mumbled: “She’ll agree.”
A shadow blocked the moonlight. An Yu looked up. Lin Duxi sat beside her, thighs touching.
The moonlight was exceptionally bright. An Yu could see Lin Duxi’s fluttering eyelashes, glowing like fireflies.
“Last time we watched the scenery together was six years ago,” Lin Duxi said, eyes soft as water. An Yu remembered.
“Six years ago, I climbed a hill with you to watch the scenery,” Lin Duxi recalled, gazing at the moon. “We didn’t go up the wooden tower; the tickets were too expensive. It started raining heavily, so we ran down the hill with a small umbrella, getting soaked.”
Mentioning the past, her gaze softened, like a shining star in the galaxy, irresistible to approach.
An Yu avoided her light, eyes sorrowful: “But the wet clothes couldn’t dry with body heat. I caught a cold for a week. Since it’s a memory, let it stay there.” She wasn’t sure if she spoke to Lin Duxi or herself.
Lin Duxi’s smile froze, then faded. She stared at An Yu, mist rising in her eyes, hiding the obsession in An Yu’s gaze.
After a long while, she said: “An Yu, you lied.”
An Yu froze, looked up, seeing Lin Duxi’s almost frenzied gaze. Her lips moved, unable to say, “I didn’t.”
Lin Duxi looked at her, smiled softly, voice full of sadness.
“An Yu, you lied,” she repeated, then stood.
“I’m a little tired. I’ll go back first. You should sleep too,” she said, leaving in anger, frustration, or sorrow.
An Yu hugged herself, head on her knees, staring blankly at the moon.
The moon disappeared—would it return?
An Yu felt upset. She had indeed lied, and Lin Duxi’s words had caught her in an instant, leaving her unable to refute.
She was trapped in memories, struggling like a clumsy snail, curling into her shell, cruelly letting Lin Duxi move forward.
Ridiculous.