After Her Death, They Begged for Forgiveness - Chapter 6

Jiang Ruo’s birthday celebration dragged on late into the night.

When Jiang Ruo and Xu Qingci finally returned home, arm in arm, they were met with pitch darkness and an eerie silence.

Xu Qingci frowned in displeasure. “Bingqi has always been useless, but now she’s getting even lazier. She didn’t even bother to turn on the lights or pour us a glass of water when we came back so late.”

She was convinced Xu Bingqi had simply gone to bed without waiting for them.

In contrast, Jiang Ruo remained calm.

Ever since their encounter at the hospital, she knew Xu Bingqi was no longer the submissive person she once was.

And Xu Bingqi would become the biggest variable in the unfolding events.

Jiang Ruo had a feeling Xu Bingqi must have discovered something.

Unconsciously, she bit her lip, leaving faint teeth marks on her rosy skin.

In silence, she switched on all the lights.

A brilliant cascade of light flooded every corner of the house.

The door to Xu Bingqi’s room was left ajar, as if its occupant had only stepped out briefly and would return soon.

But both Jiang Ruo and Xu Qingci knew that was impossible.

The once meticulously tidy room now stood empty, save for the piano, its lacquered surface reflecting a cold gleam that accentuated the desolate emptiness around it.

“This can’t be.”

Xu Qingci murmured to herself, her expression of impatience freezing instantly, as though her breath had been snatched away.

“Was the house robbed?”

After a moment’s pause, Xu Qingci frantically grabbed her phone, searching for the security company’s number.

Her first thought was that their state-of-the-art security system had failed.

Jiang Ruo calmly stopped her. “Mom, the house is fine. It’s just that Sister has moved out.”

Only then did Xu Qingci take a proper look around the villa.

Indeed, the other rooms remained exactly as they had been left.

Relieved, Xu Qingci sighed, somewhat grateful that only Xu Bingqi’s room had been stripped bare.

“Let me check the safe.”

Xu Qingci didn’t even process the meaning behind Jiang Ruo’s words, “Sister has moved out.” The short phrase slipped through her mind unnoticed, leaving no trace.

Jiang Ruo watched Xu Qingci’s frantic movements quietly, as if none of it concerned her.

After standing still for a moment, Jiang Ruo realized Xu Qingci would be occupied for a while, so she stepped into Xu Bingqi’s room.

The sharp click of her high heels against the wooden floor echoed like crisp drumbeats.

“Sister, do you really think you can escape?”

Jiang Ruo reached out and struck a piano key, producing a dull, jarring sound.

After verifying that none of the valuables in the house were missing, Xu Qingci finally relaxed, belatedly recalling Jiang Ruo’s earlier remark.

She walked into Xu Bingqi’s room and noticed the remaining cardboard boxes and moving bags piled in the corner.

Could it be, she really moved out?

Xu Qingci nudged one of the moving bags with her foot, revealing a card that had long ago fallen into the corner.

Driven by some inexplicable impulse, she walked over, bent down, and slowly picked up the dust-covered card.

On it was a line of elegant handwriting, followed by another in childish, crooked script:

Long ago, I set out, willows shed tear. I come back now, snow bends the bough.

Xu Qingci froze for a moment, the card in front of her seeming somewhat familiar.

It was from long ago, when Xu Bingqi was still young, and she had guided her hand stroke by stroke to write it.

That was a very, very long time ago.

Xu Qingci’s mind drifted for a moment before the sound of Jiang Ruo’s high heels clicking against the floor snapped her back to reality.

Her daughter was no longer the sweet, smiling little girl from her childhood; instead, she had become a worthless troublemaker.

After Xu Bingqi moved out, Xu Qingci felt only a faint trace of anger, overshadowed by a sense of relief.

Relief that her own good-for-nothing, jealous daughter had finally moved out.

“She moved out without a word, not even telling us. She’s becoming more and more ill-mannered.”

Xu Qingci glanced at Jiang Ruo, who was staring blankly at Xu Bingqi’s room, and worried that her kind-hearted daughter might be feeling sad. She stepped forward to comfort her, saying, “Xiao Ruo, don’t be too upset. When she moves back, I won’t stop her.”

Deep down, Xu Qingci firmly believed that it wouldn’t be long before Xu Bingqi would return in a pitiful state.

Jiang Ruo smiled faintly, putting on her well-behaved and understanding expression again as she faced Xu Qingci. “Mom, I think we should try to contact Sister. What if she regrets it?”

Xu Qingci looked at her considerate daughter with reassurance and, after a moment’s thought, began searching for Xu Bingqi’s contact information.

“The number you have dialed cannot be reached at the moment. Please try again later.”

A cold, mechanical voice echoed from the phone’s speaker.

Xu Qingci stared at the screen in disbelief. Previously, Xu Bingqi had never refused her calls. And this automated message didn’t sound like the call had been manually declined; it seemed more like her phone was turned off or the number had been deactivated.

After a moment of silence, Xu Qingci opened Xu Bingqi’s social media feed and found that all the posts had been cleared, leaving only one pinned message.

[“For non-legal or regulatory reasons, this action was taken voluntarily by me. This account and phone number are in the process of being deactivated. I will not log in again during this process.”]

Song Guanjin carefully read Xu Bingqi’s pinned post once more, then logged into her alternate account to ask the helpful online community.

My IQ Is Normal: [Image]

[“A friend’s pinned post says this account is being deactivated and won’t be logged into again. How can I contact them in this situation?”]

Due to Song Guanjin’s previous impressive track record in online debates, many still recognized her unique username.

[“Doesn’t seem like she’s just messing around.”]

Song Guanjin was already familiar with most internet memes, so she could read the comments smoothly without needing to search. She continued refreshing the comment section.

[“If it’s in the process of being deactivated, she definitely won’t log in again these days, unless she changes her mind.”]

[“If you know her in real life, just ask her. If not, there’s probably no way.”]

[“Do you have her accounts on other platforms? If so, leave a message, it might work.”]

Amid the teasing and shared experiences in the comments, Song Guanjin found a few useful suggestions.

Xu Bingqi wasn’t the type to make hasty decisions, so the likelihood of her logging in again during the deactivation process was slim.

So, the first suggestion was ruled out.

Did they know each other in real life? But they were merely passing acquaintances, and who knew how long it would be before they met again?

The second suggestion remained pending.

Good news, she had accounts on other platforms!

The bad news is that the pinned post also stated the account has been deactivated.

The third suggestion is now void.

Song Guanjin sighed silently.

Unlike stray cats, where you can stumble upon a new friend around every dumpster corner, human friendships aren’t so easily found. Humans have broader social circles and more complex emotions. Besides, Xu Bingqi’s attitude toward her couldn’t exactly be called cold they weren’t even friends to begin with.

It seemed posting online wouldn’t yield any useful information.

Reluctantly, Song Guanjin took one last glance at the comments section before turning off her phone.

For a cat demon who had just taken human form, today’s activities had been exhausting.

Since the spacious house was hers alone, she chose a comfortable position and lay down on the bed.

The moment she settled, it felt as if she had sunk into a warm, tranquil cloud. Comfortably, she reverted to her original form.

Slightly perked cat ears peeked faintly through her black hair, covered in a layer of soft, glossy fur.

Her fluffy tail, like an elegant silk ribbon, was adorned with dense fur that shimmered with a starlit glow.

Curled up beneath her magnificent tail, she buried her head in its fluffy tip and gradually began to purr softly.

Meanwhile, Xu Bingqi was struggling with insomnia once again.

She turned on the bedside lamp and reflected on the day’s events, still unable to believe how smoothly everything had gone.

She had moved out of her old home, deactivated all her previous accounts, set to take effect by next month.

It was equivalent to severing all ties with her past.

From now on, she was no longer the despised eldest daughter of the Xu family. She was simply herself, free to pursue her dreams without being shackled by others’ judgments.

Xu Bingqi opened her newly registered account.

The profile was pristine, 0 followers, 0 fans, 0 posts.

Under the dim light, she suddenly recalled the girl from earlier that day, the one wearing cat-ear accessories.

Despite her striking, aloof appearance, she had been surprisingly childish in conversation.

She wondered how the girl would get along with Jiang Ruo once they started working together.

Most likely, they’d hit it off perfectly.

An untimely sense of loss washed over Xu Bingqi, as if someone had stolen a treasure that belonged to her.

But that wasn’t the case.

Jiang Ruo was a crowd-pleaser, it was only natural for others to like her more.

As for someone like Xu Bingqi, who was destined by the plot to be universally disliked, it was better not to approach others with warmth or hope.

After all, she would always end up being the one left behind.

Thinking of Gu Xiaozhou from the past, Xu Bingqi grew more convinced that keeping her distance from Song Guanjin was the right choice.

As long as she didn’t place hope in anyone, she would never have to endure the pain of disappointment turning into despair.

Emotions were fleeting and unpredictable, only what she held in her hands was real.

Reborn into this life, free from the interference of the novel’s plot, she was determined to become an outstanding composer.

She refused to be labeled as worthless or to endure scornful glances while pretending not to care.

In this lifetime, she would make everyone look at her with respect.

Xu Bingqi stared at her empty account homepage, feeling for the first time a fierce resolve to succeed.

Just as she was about to turn off her phone and try to sleep again, a message suddenly popped up.

【Your computer has been under remote surveillance for 1 year, 7 months, and 21 days.】

Subsequently sent over were the specific remote control details for the computer where Xu Bingqi had previously stored his music compositions.

Support After Her Death, They Begged for Forgiveness