After Marrying the Villain with Seven Personalities [Transmigration into a Book]) - Chapter 50

[Linqiu, please don’t leave me…]

At that moment, an inexplicable sense of despair and suffocation seized her heart; every breath she took was laced with a sharp, stabbing pain. Her vision blurred, and she had to look away, bracing herself against the floor to sit down.

She didn’t understand what was written in this notebook, or why it made her feel such profound empathy—as if she had fallen into water, with the source of it rushing into her mouth and nose. She struggled, she suffocated, but no one came to save her.

Clutching her racing heart, she closed her eyes, eventually losing consciousness as the agony intensified.

When her eyes opened again a short while later, they were still filled with uncontrollable pain, but it was deeper, more concentrated. The woman’s gaze slowly drifted back to the notebook, looking both pained and numb. Her heart felt like it was being pierced by needles, pounding in a desperate attempt to resist the feeling, yet she couldn’t escape the dense, suffocating ache.

Her life was flashing before her eyes.

The exact same life, the exact same path—thousands, tens of thousands of times. An infinite cycle.

Her Linqiu. They met, they knew each other, they fell in love. Countless times, she had trembled as she held Linqiu’s cold corpse. Countless times, in the dead of night, she had woken up to feel the empty space beside her and wept in hopeless despair.

Then, at the top of a skyscraper, she saw the moment of awakening—looking at the silent night sky with helpless mockery, feeling the biting wind whistle past her ears as she was pushed. The moment she hit the ground, the pain invaded her internal organs, piercing her soul. She could clearly feel her body shattering, her blood bursting forth.

Yet, that sudden, sharp agony brought not just despair, but anticipation. She knew she would see her again. She would see Linqiu’s eyes curve into crescent moons as she smiled. She would see her accept the love letter she had gathered all her courage to offer. She would see Linqiu lead her to a quiet corner and ask, “Does little sister like me that much?”

“If you don’t answer, I’m going to read your love letter aloud.”

“I like you!”

“I like you so much…”

Her body would flush with heat as she stared at her, terrified that a single blink would result in rejection. Until Linqiu smiled and patted her hair: “Alright then~”

Whenever she was submerged in darkness, unable to move, being slowly sent toward that light-filled entrance, she would relive that heart-pounding scene countless times. She knew that once she entered that portal, her life would reset once more.

But this time, a sudden woman’s scream shattered the silent blackness. An unknown object slammed into her, plunging into the light with her.

And suddenly, she could move.

A rush of unexpected joy and trepidation filled her heart. She didn’t know how long she “swam” before touching that light; she only knew that when she was first carried into the Xu household and saw the round-faced infant Linqiu, she struggled out of her mother’s arms, hit the ground, and ran toward her with tearful, stumbling steps.

She called her name with slurred speech: “Lin Jiu.”

“Pfft, haha!”

“Your Qingqing has such a high learning capacity. She’s barely over a year old and learned the name after hearing it twice.”

The voices of the adults echoed around her, but she only saw her Linqiu grabbing another little girl’s hand and saying softly: “Ji-ji, let’s go play.”

Yi Chenqing’s front leg caught on her back leg, and she face-planted onto the floor. It was the first time she had cried since being born—crying with all her might. Even when the nurse had swatted her bottom at birth, she had been too busy waving her hands in excitement, savoring her hard-won freedom.

Through her misty eyes, a small force tried to lift her up. A tender voice reached her ears.

“Don’t cry anymore. I’ll give you a hug.”

She followed the motion and clung to the girl, her tiny hands gripping the back of Linqiu’s collar, crying and calling her name without letting go.

“Lin Jiu, Lin Jiu, wahhh!”

“You have to call me ‘Sister,'” the little girl said, pinching her chubby cheek and correcting her with a smile.

Looking into those familiar, smiling eyes, Yi Chenqing made a tearful vow: In this life, she would never let anything happen to her. She would not let their two happy families be torn apart again.

But she knew that once the “world boundary” was reached, everything would be forced back to its original place. In many previous lives, she had awakened by chance and fought back hard, even trying different methods—but once she did anything that threatened the fixed plot, she would be controlled and coerced.

In this world, perhaps countless people were unconsciously forced to live lives they didn’t want. Change was too difficult.

Eventually, she realized that the person who always appeared by Linqiu’s side—the one who was supposed to be insignificant in the original plot—had no scripted role. And yet, that person changed the plot so easily.

That person (Shi Ji) was unrestrained, flamboyant, and did as she pleased. A single careless action from her could completely derail the original narrative. She could bring Linqiu a type of freedom and happiness that Yi Chenqing never could; as she had said before, when they were together, she only brought Linqiu burdens and heaviness.

So, Yi Chenqing retreated. She began to actively avoid her, suppressing every impulse to move closer. She was terrified that a single wrong move would break the changes they had achieved. If she got too close, she would only hurt her.

So she could only guard her from a distance.

However, watching the person she loved laughing and being intimate with someone else was far more agonizing than she had imagined. She endured until Linqiu was eighteen, passing her “death flag” with a trembling heart. She watched Linqiu successfully reach the airport to chase her dreams; Linqiu was full of smiles as she held Shi Ji’s shoulder, leaning down to kiss her.

Yi Chenqing’s lips curled, but her heart hurt more than it did when it shattered on the pavement. She could only turn away, pretending to be indifferent. It’s fine. As long as she’s alive and happy, that’s better than anything.

Just like when Linqiu had originally broken up with her: “Let’s break up.”

“We need to cool off. I feel too suffocated right now.”

Perhaps… all she had ever given her was suffocation.

That day, it rained heavily. She walked into the rain and completely locked herself away.

“Qingqing.”

“Qingqing.”

An anxious voice gradually reached her ears. Her vision focused, and she looked up to see Xu Linqiu’s worried eyes.

“What’s wrong? Don’t cry.” Xu Linqiu hurriedly reached out, using the back of her hand to wipe the tears from Yi Chenqing’s face.

“Are you dizzy? Do you feel unwell anywhere?”

“No,” Yi Chenqing shook her head, looking at her. “Just a bit confused.”

She knew she had only surfaced because of the emotional trigger. Just like the brief appearance last time, she didn’t know when she would be forced back again. But she was too overwhelmed; all her memories were tangled together. The intimacy of this recent period felt like a dream, leaving her at a loss.

Meeting her gaze, Xu Linqiu suddenly froze. In that moment, a possibility surfaced in her heart. She was lost, not knowing how to respond, and could only ask:

“Have you… remembered everything?”

“Mm.” Yi Chenqing looked up slightly, noticing Shi Ji standing at the door, her eyes glued to the notebook on the floor.

She pulled her gaze back. Her lips were pale, but she managed a slight smile for Xu Linqiu, as if to reassure her. The deep affection in her eyes was no longer hidden. She simply said, “I want to be alone for a bit.”

“Alright.” Xu Linqiu took a blue dolphin plushie out of her bag—something she had bought while shopping today. She placed it in Yi Chenqing’s hands and smiled. “Then I’ll go stay at my parents’ place. We’ll spend a night apart.”

“Mm.”

Receiving a response, Xu Linqiu stood up. Shi Ji hurried in to snatch the notebook from the floor, clutching it to her chest. She followed Xu Linqiu out and asked, “Where did you get this?”

It couldn’t have been something Yi Chenqing just found.

“I picked it up after you lost it,” Xu Linqiu replied. As she walked toward the exit, Shi Ji said, “Then I’m taking it back.”

“Mm.”

Xu Linqiu watched her walk toward the stairs. To be honest, she was quite envious. She envied the fact that even if Xu Linqiu lost her memories, the person she loved would fall for her all over again. She envied that no matter what happened, when Yi Chenqing looked at her, her eyes were full of only her—even becoming a villain and exhausting everything just to avenge her.

Shi Ji sighed, hugged the notebook tight, and went to her room.

The room was dark. She flipped the light on, and Yi Yanbai—who was sleeping on her side—coldly muttered, “Go sleep in another room.”

Shi Ji refused. If you really didn’t want me here, why didn’t you lock the door?

Thinking stubbornly, Shi Ji locked the door herself, then went to take a shower. When she came out, she noticed a book on the desk that looked like it had several pages torn out. She looked into the nearby trash can and saw many shredded pages with traces of red pen.

“Get out,” the cold voice came again.

Her curiosity piqued, Shi Ji turned on the small desk lamp. Yi Yanbai was lying with her back to her. Shi Ji turned off the main lights, went to the door, and faked the sound of opening and closing it, then quietly crept back to the desk.

Surprisingly, Yi Yanbai seemed to have actually fallen asleep.

Shi Ji began picking up the scraps of paper and piecing them together. Fortunately, they weren’t torn too small. There were seven pages in total. She focused on the parts circled in red pen.

When the words circled in red were lined up, Shi Ji froze.

[Shi Ji, I love you. The exterior… is fake.]

Her lips curved upward, and tears suddenly streamed down her face. Even though the book didn’t contain the specific character for her name (Ji), Yi Yanbai could have found another similar one—why did she have to choose the character for “Chicken” (Ji)?

She tucked the scraps into the book to keep them safe and carefully crawled onto the bed. Yi Yanbai’s breathing was steady; she was clearly asleep. Shi Ji moved close to her, hugged her gently, and closed her eyes.

I’ll trust you one more time.

“Why are you back?”

When Xu Linqiu arrived home, Fang Fengyu and her husband were still watching TV. She smiled and replied, “Her illness is better, but she’s very confused. I wanted to come home for a night to give her some space to be quiet.”

“There are so many rooms in that house; she can be quiet no matter which one you stay in,” Fang Fengyu pointed out bluntly.

Xu Linqiu choked on her words. She lowered her gaze, feeling it might be easier to just say it. “I looked into her eyes and suddenly… I felt a bit afraid.”

“Afraid of what?”

“Afraid…” Of losing her, perhaps. “I want to give us both time to process things.”

“Mm, then go upstairs and get some rest,” Xu Pingxin said.

“Don’t overthink it. Why don’t you come with your father and me to an art exhibition tomorrow?”

“Okay.”

As soon as Xu Linqiu went upstairs, Fang Fengyu smiled. “This child… and she still claims she only married Qingqing to help with her illness.”

“Make sure to keep her company tomorrow.”

“Of course.”