After Being Reborn, My Ex-Girlfriend Became Obsessed - Chapter 62

Drowsy and hazy, memories and reality intertwined in her dreams. An Yu felt as if all her strength had been absorbed by cotton—soft, insubstantial, leaving her completely unable to move.

Her mind felt tangled with millions of threads, chaotic and dizzying, as if something had transformed into golden threads, weaving into her heart and repairing the fragmented memories she had forgotten. An Yu lay on the bed, feeling as though she were reliving the suffocating sensation of falling from the rooftop.

Weakness and breathlessness clutched her organs, intertwining with the fog in her mind. Her body temperature rose, searing into her heart, threatening to burn her completely. She longed for cold water to ease the torment.

A pair of cool hands gently rested on her cheeks. An Yu, like a drowning person finding a floating raft, clutched tightly onto the small relief.

The cool sensation lingered across her face, lightly touching her overheated skin, gradually spreading downward, bringing a soothing chill.

“Let’s take the medicine, okay? Be good, let’s take the medicine.” A gentle, lingering voice whispered into her ear, magical in its power, soothing the pain in her head.

An Yu obediently listened, slowly parting her lips. The next moment, her lips were met with a cool, soft touch, like a mountain spring trickling into a stream, icy and refreshing, and she couldn’t help tilting her head to accept it all.

She anxiously sucked, eager for the moisture, the soft contact invading her space, accurately placing a pill on her tongue before slowly withdrawing. An Yu lightly frowned, biting gently to prevent the lips from leaving. The crimson lips touched water, even more crystal-clear and enticing.

Watching her like this, Lin Duxi couldn’t help but chuckle softly. She reached out, twirling a loose strand of hair and tucked it behind An Yu’s ear. She gently pressed her lips onto the soft, red, tender lips, relishing the sensation. Then she leaned down, placing delicate kisses on her face, before resting beside her ear and exhaling slowly.

“Don’t rush, there’s more.”

The dream felt enveloped in mist; An Yu could no longer distinguish truth from illusion, drifting in a hazy sea. Lost things were slowly returning, like grains gradually rebuilding broken walls.

Unable to endure the slow sensation, An Yu abruptly opened her eyes, gasping heavily as sunlight pierced them.

She turned to sit up, coughing and panting, reaching for something on the bedside table. Her fingers brushed against an object, which she grabbed and downed the water in the cup in one gulp. Drinking too quickly, water dribbled from her lips.

Something fell from her forehead onto her hand. An Yu set down the cup and looked—it was a cooling patch.

She frowned, holding it up as fragmented memories of last night surfaced. She couldn’t piece together a complete story, only realizing she had fallen ill and Lin Duxi had taken care of her.

It made sense—after being soaked and taking care of Lin Duxi all that time, falling sick was inevitable. An Yu rubbed her temples, feeling her still-hot forehead, and got out of bed. On the bedside table, she noticed a note.

“Porridge made in the kitchen.”

The note was cartoonish, with a faint fragrance, and a small heart drawn at the bottom. An Yu looked at it for a moment, intending to put it in her coat pocket, but noticed the clothes she had tossed by the bed last night were gone.

Puzzled, she washed her hands and splashed cool water on her face to wake herself further.

Stepping into the kitchen, her eyes caught the clothes fluttering lightly on the balcony—the clothes had been washed by Lin Duxi.

An Yu poured herself a bowl of porridge and slowly ate. She opened her phone, instinctively clicking into her chat with Lin Duxi. Their conversation was still from a few days ago.

Oddly enough, after parting, they seemed to communicate less through chat apps, preferring to knock on each other’s doors to discuss matters—even trivial ones that could have been said online.

Looking at their sparse chat history now, An Yu recalled that in high school, after adding Lin Duxi as a friend, they rarely chatted, then gradually, as their relationship progressed, they began to message more. After Lin Duxi moved in, they seemed to prefer speaking face-to-face—any issue could be sensed immediately, without messages.

Thinking about it now, it was strange, yet endearing.

She flipped through their chat history to the very beginning, and then to the most recent messages, yet found nothing new from Lin Duxi.

Such a big house, and Lin Duxi left her there without a word, trusting her not to steal anything.

Thinking this, An Yu typed a few words:

“Where did you go?”

It looked pitiful, like a little wife waiting for her husband. She shook her head, deleted the message, and closed her phone.

Still feeling dizzy, she pinched the spoon and stubbornly fed herself the porridge. Her fever hadn’t broken; her body still felt hot. She thought that after going home to sleep, the fever would subside. Just then, a familiar sizzling sound echoed in her mind.

An Yu: “…” Not again.

“Host, long time no see… Why are you at Lin Duxi’s house?” The system’s voice, initially calm, immediately turned sharp upon seeing her clothes and location.

“What happened with the heroine? She’s still wearing Lin Duxi’s clothes.” The system’s tone grew cold, scrutinizing, making An Yu’s already dizzy head spin more.

“You’re overthinking. If anything really happened, I wouldn’t even leave a body for you to see,” An Yu said irritably, continuing to eat the porridge. Sick as she was, she had little appetite, yet she spooned each bite carefully, even fetching another bowl of rice to continue eating at the table.

System: “…”

System: “Change your clothes quickly and go out immediately!”

An Yu frowned: “Why? No, I’m tired, I want to sleep. Look at how the progress between the male and female leads has improved—it’s all because of me anyway.” She lied without flinching.

System: “Indeed, there has been some progress, but it’s far slower than your mission progress. Why are you celebrating?”

An Yu: “…Go do what?” Cleverness backfiring.

“Differences have arisen between the male and female leads. Your mission is to resolve them. Why aren’t you rushing?”

“Let me finish my meal first. People need food… ow.” Her hand clenched suddenly as a sharp pain shot through her head.

“Mission trigger point in thirty minutes. If the host does not arrive at the city mission point within thirty minutes, punishment will be applied.” The system’s tone turned icy and mechanical. “Previous laziness slowed the world’s mission progress. Continued negligence will increase punishment severity.”

“So, host, please do your best.” The voice remained cold, but An Yu detected a sly undertone.

An Yu set down her spoon, staring at the table. The next moment, she dashed out of Lin Duxi’s house, changed clothes, and rushed downstairs, hailing a car to the city center.

“Mission deadline in twenty-nine minutes and fifty-nine seconds, twenty-nine minutes and fifty-eight seconds…”

Cursing the system internally, she clasped her sweaty hands, head lowered, brows furrowed, radiating a “keep away” aura.

The driver, seeing her expression, assumed something serious had happened at home and drove faster.

Previously, the system had never been this forceful. Now it was threatening her directly. The more anxious she felt, the clearer her mind became.

Surely something uncontrollable had occurred. Did the system fail to repair something? Or did it realize it could not control Lin Duxi’s thoughts, leaving her as the only way to advance the mission?

Relieved, An Yu felt her tension ease. More than facing punishment herself, she feared Lin Duxi being bound by the novel’s rules, becoming rigid and thoughtless.

That would not be Lin Duxi—not the always-smiling, warm, watery-eyed person she knew.

The taxi soon reached a high-end restaurant in the city. An Yu got out, catching her breath under a streetlamp. The system’s oppressive presence faded, and its cold voice weakened.

“Host, remember to have them both attend. This is your mission. Don’t forget.” With that, the system disappeared, its pressure gone. She caught her breath, looking toward the restaurant.

With five minutes remaining until the mission deadline, there was plenty of time. Free from the system, An Yu calmed herself outside before stepping in.

She realized she hadn’t taken a mask or sunglasses, and her messy appearance—hair uncombed—was far from her polished TV persona.

It was morning. The place, usually for afternoon tea, was quiet, with only a few people sipping coffee while working on laptops.

An Yu walked in, passing through an outer room to the inner terrace, where she saw the two people in a corner.

Pei Lu had his back to her, seemingly talking to Lin Duxi. The outdoor terrace held only his low voice, unclear to her ears.

Lin Duxi rested her chin on her hand, glancing coldly at him, her patience nearly gone. Just as she was about to shift her gaze, she noticed An Yu standing at the doorway. Her eyes, calm as a deep well, instantly sparkled, a smile pouring from her gaze. Morning light fell softly, and the two locked eyes.

An Yu felt, in that instant, a sense of belonging to Lin Duxi.

Lin Duxi’s gaze was unguarded, the brilliance in her eyes successfully drawing Pei Lu’s attention. He turned, also noticing An Yu, pupils widening in shock, frowning immediately.

“An Yu, you’ve been following me.” He ground his teeth, glaring.

An Yu looked innocent. “The system made me come,” she thought, a slight smile tugging at her lips. Standing straight in black-and-white attire, amidst the flower-filled terrace, she looked like someone coming to claim a bride.

However, the system seemed to have miscalculated—coming here didn’t guarantee mission completion.

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