After Being Reborn, My Ex-Girlfriend Became Obsessed - Chapter 86

Most of the attention on the show Hello, Friend was focused on Lin Duxi and An Yu. Online, countless discussions had arisen from their first date and the conversations they had, spawning a plethora of new trending terms.

An Yu and Lin Duxi hadn’t yet realized what was happening online. After returning to the villa, they had a simple meal. Lin Duxi, citing a long day, went upstairs to rest, leaving An Yu and the others to clear the table.

An Yu followed Lin Duxi’s departing figure with her eyes. Once everything was tidied, she took some fruit from the table and headed upstairs.

As she turned the doorknob, she heard the sound of running water and guessed that Lin Duxi was showering. Taking advantage of the moment, she began tidying her clothes.

Though she called it tidying, in reality, she just stared blankly at her suitcase, unaware of when Lin Duxi had quietly moved behind her.

“What are you doing?” Lin Duxi’s voice, damp with water, sounded right by her ear.

An Yu tilted her head and looked at her. Lin Duxi was wearing a thin nightgown, her wet hair falling freely down her back, the tips of it still dripping. Her slender hands held a towel, drying the ends of her hair.

The room’s light fell on her, making her already pale skin look even whiter.

“I’m looking for clothes,” An Yu replied.

Lin Duxi’s eyes sparkled with amusement, though her tired body showed signs of happiness. “Found them?”

An Yu nodded.

“Then go take a shower. We’ve been out all day; let’s sleep early,” Lin Duxi said, her tone familiar, like they had been together for many years.

An Yu couldn’t help smiling. “You’re very proactive today, much more than when we were climbing.”

“That’s because it’s your first date with me, An Yu,” Lin Duxi said bluntly, her eyes brimming with affection.

After leaving the Ferris wheel, the unease she had felt all day finally settled.

An Yu’s expression remained normal, seemingly accustomed to Lin Duxi’s occasional outpouring of love. She took the clothes and passed by Lin Duxi, her ear turning slightly red as strands of hair fell over it.

Lin Duxi smiled softly.

Steam rose from the bathroom, blurring An Yu’s vision. She let the hot water run over her head, her mind focused entirely on the words the system had said to her that day.

If she couldn’t complete the mission, she wouldn’t truly be able to live, and the system would forever control and monitor her actions.

Was this a dead end?

An Yu adjusted the water temperature, and the sudden cold made her fully awake. Gradually, small details she had hidden away began surfacing.

The system had warned that failure to complete the mission would trigger the punishment mode, which it claimed was extremely terrifying. Yet, An Yu didn’t feel that way.

Punishment mode made her experience what death would feel like, tormenting her mind and repeatedly plunging her into despair—but it also forced her to act and recall details, which was beneficial.

It wasn’t the punishment the system described; it felt different, as if the system and its so-called punishment were not quite the same.

Every time she entered punishment mode, Lin Duxi’s condition would also deteriorate, as if the punishment affected her as well.

An Yu realized what conditions caused Lin Duxi to be unwell, and that Lin Duxi would act stronger toward her, almost as if afraid she would disappear.

An Yu felt she had grasped something crucial. Her heart surged.

Lin Duxi already knew about the system. The subtle hints on the Ferris wheel had not only been her prompting Lin Duxi—they had also been Lin Duxi silently conveying something back.

And the system didn’t know this.

There was still a chance.

But with the information she currently had, it wasn’t enough to deduce the full truth. The system wanted her to strive, to plead with Lin Duxi—so she would try, putting on a performance. If Lin Duxi refused, she could also test the system’s limits.

The system had said this was her last chance: failure meant she couldn’t truly survive. She would let the system see her effort, yet still fail.

She didn’t think of herself as a particularly good person. If others forced her, she wouldn’t make it easy for them either.

The system had appeared in front of Lin Duxi, boldly speaking to her, revealing its desperation—its last opportunity.

But it wasn’t her last chance. As long as she survived, there was still hope.

Lin Duxi would certainly refuse.

The bathroom water stopped. An Yu opened the door, her body shivering with cold.

Seeing her trembling while drying her hair, Lin Duxi frowned and came to her side, taking the towel from her hands.

“You washed with cold water!” she scolded.

An Yu replied, “It felt a bit hot, so… ow.”

Lin Duxi rubbed her head with mock force, then used the hair dryer to gently dry her hair, her touch unusually tender.

“Even if it feels hot, you can’t do that. What if you catch a cold?” she said, her tone carrying unnoticed worry.

“I’m sorry,” An Yu obediently apologized.

Her hands fidgeted, fingers brushing each other as she mentally organized her words for a long time.

She still didn’t want to speak—this was just for show, to trick the system.

“All done,” Lin Duxi said, turning off the hair dryer, gently smoothing her hair.

“Go lie down, don’t catch a cold.”

Though An Yu had other things on her mind, she obeyed. Lin Duxi smiled.

“You were very obedient today, An Yu,” she praised.

“I’m always obedient, aren’t I?” An Yu replied.

Lin Duxi’s eyes curved into a smile as she stepped closer, bending down to look at her with clear, deep eyes.

“You’ve always been obedient,” she murmured, caressing An Yu’s tousled hair, her eyes smiling.

“What if I really catch a cold? What will you do about tomorrow’s activities?” An Yu suddenly asked. She expected Lin Duxi to say she would stay with her until her fever broke.

This way, she would have asked for help, Lin Duxi would refuse, and the system would surely activate punishment mode.

Lin Duxi’s smile didn’t waver. It seemed she already knew An Yu would ask that.

“Do you want me to help?”

An Yu widened her eyes. “How did you know?”

Lin Duxi leaned in, forehead touching hers, their breaths mingling like stones dropping into a still lake, stirring ripples.

“Because you’re really bad at hiding things,” she said, then gently kissed An Yu’s forehead.

“I said before, if you want me to help, you can—but there will be a price,” Lin Duxi said, holding An Yu’s face, looking intently at her.

An Yu’s eyes widened even more. “You agreed?”

Lin Duxi nodded. “Yes, but you have to pay the price.”

An Yu sneezed in panic. “It’s not about payment! What did you agree to do?”

Lin Duxi looked puzzled. “You wanted me to help, right? And this is about payment.”

Payment?

An Yu suddenly remembered the kiss mark on her neck from yesterday, and a lightbulb went off in her mind.

She quickly covered her neck. “You want to kiss my neck again? No, tomorrow’s recording… if they see the mark, they’ll guess something. You don’t want that to happen.”

Lin Duxi sat up, suddenly understanding. “You’re right! We definitely can’t kiss the neck.”

An Yu pretended to breathe a sigh of relief.

After that, Lin Duxi looked at An Yu, her dark eyes stormy. She leaned down, pressing An Yu onto the bed, their noses almost touching, the narrow space heating up.

“Then we won’t kiss the neck. We’ll kiss somewhere else.”

She pinned An Yu’s hands above her head and, with her other hand, held her jaw, forcing her into a kiss.

Amidst chaotic breathing and rising suffocation, An Yu briefly regained clarity, realizing their positions had already shifted.

Lin Duxi panted softly, draping herself against An Yu, her eyes glistening with moisture like a flower in morning dew, fragile and tender.

She gently stroked An Yu’s cheeks, lingering on her pale skin, lips trembling as her voice, soft and hoarse with emotion, spoke.

“There’s something I’ve wanted to tell you since the Ferris wheel.”

Her gaze was so intense that no one could ignore it. An Yu’s eyes fell into hers, like being caught in a whirlpool, and she instinctively kissed her lips.

“Go on,” she whispered.

“An Yu, I’ve never stopped loving you,” Lin Duxi said.

Without giving An Yu a chance to respond, she cupped her face and kissed her again, urgent and passionate.

This was An Yu’s gentle refuge, the lost place Lin Duxi had searched for her entire life—and now, she had found it.

The night was deep. Autumn nights were always cold, and silvery moonlight filtered through swaying tree shadows, slipping through the window cracks and spilling into the room, scattering across their hands like blossoming flowers.

An Yu’s forehead rested against Lin Duxi’s shoulder. The hot breath at her ear burned her skin, her heart uncontrollably racing.

The window had been left open, dew dampening their clothes. Lin Duxi didn’t forget, holding An Yu’s wrist and kissing away the dew.

“At this time… it shouldn’t be here, right?” Lin Duxi said after resting a bit, finally speaking clearly.

“No, I can feel it. It doesn’t come often,” An Yu replied, rubbing her ear. “But we have to be careful.”

Lin Duxi rolled over, nestling back into her arms, gazing at her softly, her eyes unnaturally red at the corners.

An Yu turned away, not daring to look at her eyes. That redness was her own doing.

“I want to wash up,” Lin Duxi murmured, exhausted, too tired to tidy up, feeling uncomfortable.

But she had no strength. An Yu had no choice but to carry her to the bathtub, carefully washing her.

Water splashed onto the tiles a few times during the process. Only when the water cooled did they finally return to the bedroom.

Nestled in warmth, Lin Duxi clung to An Yu, the heat soothing An Yu’s lingering chill.

“You have to take initiative if you want a chance,” Lin Duxi whispered into her embrace, half-asleep.

“So… you want it to come find us?” An Yu murmured.

“Why not?” Lin Duxi replied, too tired to move, prepared to just maintain this position and sleep.

An Yu looked down at the person in her arms, the pale skin glowing under the cold moonlight.

“Yes… why not?”

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