After My Death, Everyone Repented (Transmigration) - Chapter 31

She shouldn’t be feeling this restless. Based on Xie Shaoyun’s understanding of Chi Yi, even if Chi Yi had severe psychological issues and suicidal tendencies, she likely wouldn’t choose tonight to act on them.

Because, at her core, Chi Yi possessed a self-discipline that matched her meticulousness in handling relationships.

Logically speaking, the probability of Chi Yi taking her own life before selling Haimi was extremely low.

Xie Shaoyun didn’t want to admit it, but she had been affected by the grave expressions of the father and daughter in the restaurant earlier.

When the familiar dizziness struck again, Xie Shaoyun didn’t resist it as she usually would.

She didn’t think about whether she might turn into a tissue, a soap dish, or any of the other objects she despised.

Nor did she mentally sift through the list of people she might encounter. Instead, she simply felt an unprecedented sense of irritation.

Perhaps it was due to this irritation, but this time, when her soul was yanked from her body, there was no sense of landing. After the sudden, disorienting dizziness subsided.

She found herself in a luxury boutique. Her field of vision was the same as when she was human, unlike the boundless, cosmic perspective she had experienced inside the skull necklace.

The bright lights of the mall stung her eyes.

Once her vision cleared, Xie Shaoyun first noticed a full-length mirror standing nearby. The mirror was right in front of her, and she felt a surge of excitement. She then examined her disembodied form.

At first glance, she thought the lack of reflection might be due to the harsh lighting.

She blinked, stepped closer to the gold-trimmed mirror, and looked again still nothing.

Someone spoke beside her, walking straight toward Xie Shaoyun and passing right through her before stopping in front of the mirror.

This time, an image appeared in the mirror: a well-maintained, middle-aged noblewoman with slender fingers, standing about 162 cm tall.

The woman turned left, then right, seemingly very pleased with her qipao and the matching mustard-yellow shawl.

Meanwhile, the mirror reflected her movements and expressions in detail.

Xie Shaoyun stared for a long moment but couldn’t spot herself beside the woman in the mirror. If souls could frown, she would have been doing so now.

She wasn’t possessing any object, she was in a true, incorporeal state.

The noblewoman trying on clothes spoke up, asking her daughter, who was seated on a circular sofa working: “Chi Yi, how does it look?”

Xie Shaoyun instinctively looked up and saw Chi Yi calmly close her laptop, stand, and pull a pink-gold card from her crocodile-skin bag. She handed it to the sales assistant, exchanged a few words, then walked over passing right through Xie Shaoyun, before stopping in front of the noblewoman and saying, “Mother.”

The noblewoman’s identity was immediately clear to Xie Shaoyun: this was Chi Yi’s mother, Mrs. Chi, the parent Chi Yi had never introduced her to.

Their last conversation had been before Xie Shaoyun’s death.

Mrs. Chi had demanded Xie Shaoyun leave her daughter, but in a clichéd, drama-like manner except she hadn’t thought to offer compensation. Xie Shaoyun had impatiently snapped back at her.

She must have offended her.

Xie Shaoyun thought so, because the past incident wasn’t a pleasant memory, and now, she couldn’t help but feel disdain for the noblewoman before her.

She tried to walk away but found she couldn’t go more than ten meters from Chi Yi, so she had no choice but to sit on the nearby sofa.

Chi Yi walked up to her mother without commenting on her outfit. Around anyone other than Xie Shaojun, her words were notably sparse.

This was easily apparent in her conversation with Mrs. Chi.

Mrs. Chi said it had been two years since she last saw her and asked if they could have dinner together.

Chi Yi declined, explaining she needed to catch a flight to Nancheng.

“So rushed?” Mrs. Chi’s smile faded slightly as she shifted to other topics,like how the eldest son of a certain family in Beicheng had just married, and what his partner’s background was like. Or how, at a recent charity gala, Mr. Chi had spent a million on an oil painting titled Death. Mrs. Chi admitted she didn’t quite understand such artwork and hoped Chi Yi could explain it to her someday.

Chi Yi replied, “I don’t know much about art.”

Mrs. Chi fell silent.

After settling the bill and leaving the luxury boutique, Mrs. Chi glanced at her daughter’s gaunt face and asked why she hadn’t come home while in Beicheng.

Chi Yi said, “There are too many rules at home. How is Father?”

The question made Mrs. Chi pause. She took a deep breath, staring at the rain-slicked asphalt before slowly saying, “Was it that phone call two years ago, when I made her leave you that upset you?”

Chi Yi didn’t answer. A light drizzle had begun outside, and with only one umbrella at hand, she opened it and handed it to Mrs. Chi before stepping into the rain herself.

From behind, Xie Shaojun saw the moment Mrs. Chi took the umbrella, her hand nearly brushing Chi Yi’s, but Chi Yi avoided the contact.

The reaction made Mrs. Chi’s expression twist in pain. She opened her mouth several times, unsure what to say, and could only stare helplessly at her increasingly withdrawn daughter.

They crossed the street and took the mall elevator down to the underground garage.

Inside, Mrs. Chi mustered the courage to say, “Yiyi, come visit your father and me when you have time. And if you ever meet someone suitable anyone at all, bring them home to meet us.”

Chi Yi turned and gave her a reproachful look. “There won’t be anyone else.”

The elevator reached the second basement level, where their cars were parked nearby.

Chi Yi and her mother stepped out one after the other.

Her slender frame cast a shadow over Mrs. Chi, perhaps the closest distance between mother and daughter now. Mrs. Chi’s fingers trembled slightly, but she was too composed to do more than stifle a sob.

“Back then, you never brought her home to meet us. Your father and I thought your relationship wasn’t that serious. that marriage was just a hormonal impulse. We assumed the family you two were building hadn’t been thought through with maturity or reason…”

Mrs. Chi spoke unconsciously, trying to justify herself. The dead were sacred; the living could never compete.

That phone call she made before Xie Shaojun’s death had cast her as the villain in her daughter’s story.

She didn’t want this rift to last forever, so she instinctively sought a reasonable explanation for her past actions.

But when she looked up and met Chi Yi’s peach-blossom eyes so much like her own the words died in her throat.

Because Chi Yi’s eyes seemed to flood with immense sorrow in an instant, for some reason, Mrs. Chi felt an unbearably bitter saliva welling up in her mouth that she couldn’t swallow no matter what.

Her fingers tightened around her handbag as she silently walked behind Chi Yi.

When they reached the parking spot, Mrs. Chi wanted to hug Chi Yi, but Chi Yi stepped aside. She politely addressed her mother, “Uncle Wang is waiting for you in the car ahead. I won’t see you off.”

After watching Mrs. Chi get into the car, Chi Yi stood outside and handed over a few contracts, placing them on the back seat.

Mrs. Chi was surprised.

“What are these?”

“I recently bought several well-located plots in the southern city. They’re quite large, so I’m giving them to Father. Please pass them on to him and have him sign the transfer documents.”

Their eyes met, and Mrs. Chi seemed to sense something, her eyes glistening with tears. Just as Chi Yi was about to turn away, she grabbed her arm.

“I’m sorry, Chi Yi.”

The garage lights weren’t as bright as those in the mall. One bulb was broken, flickering incessantly, casting shifting patterns of light and shadow over Chi Yi’s cold, pale skin, concealing all expression.

Xie Shaojun leaned closer to Chi Yi’s face to observe her and caught the faint trace of a mocking smile at the corner of her lips.

After a few seconds of silence, Xie Shaojun heard Chi Yi say to her mother, “It’s fine.”

Chi Yi pulled her arm free, bent down, and got into her own car.

As the car drove out of the parking lot, the two vehicles passed each other. Chi Yi rolled down the window, resting her elbow on the edge, watching her mother leave.

Only after the car disappeared from sight did Xie Shaojun hear Chi Yi murmur in a very low voice, “Mom, you don’t have to apologize.”

“Because I’m going to have to apologize to you too.”

These words made Xie Shaojun lower her gaze slightly, unconsciously staring into Chi Yi’s eyes.

Those once beautiful, lively peach-blossom eyes now held not a trace of emotion. The pupils seemed to harbor a monster that had devoured all of Chi Yi’s vitality.

Xie Shaojun couldn’t help but softly call her name: “Chi Yi.”

“Why are you so infuriating?”

Chi Yi didn’t respond. As a bodiless spirit, Xie Shaojun not only had her form rudely passed through by others but also had her voice rudely ignored.

And Chi Yi was that rude person, Chi Yi couldn’t hear the scolding of a spirit.

The car window rolled up, and Chi Yi began working. With an expressionless face, like an automated vending machine, she took out her phone. Finding it dead, she placed it on the desk to charge.

Mechanically, she unfolded the tray table from the back of the front seat, set up her laptop, and began her monotonous, repetitive work. Soon, Secretary Wang popped up in a chat window.

Chi Yi asked if there had been any urgent matters to handle while she was accompanying Mrs. Chi shopping.

“Director Chi!” Secretary Wang’s expression was uncharacteristically unsettled. She seemed deeply shaken, unable to compose herself even upon seeing Chi Yi. Stunned, she asked, “Where are you right now?”

“On the way to the airport,” Chi Yi replied.

Secretary Wang bit her lip, hesitating as she stared at Chi Yi. Chi Yi looked back at her curiously. “You look terrible.”

“…” Secretary Wang: “Yeah, I do. Because no one could reach you. I thought you’d gone to see the ocean.”

Chi Yi smiled faintly, neither confirming nor denying it.

The airport was an hour’s drive away.

Chi Yi scrolled through documents that, to Xie Shaoyun, looked like tadpoles. Xie Shaoyun grew bored and lifted her gaze to study Chi Yi.

Two years had passed since they last saw each other, and Chi Yi had grown thinner. Her chin wasn’t as sharp as it had been when Xie Shaoyun had cancer, but it wasn’t far off,weight loss had a way of revealing every contour of her bone structure.

The faint glow from the laptop screen cast a delicate light on her face, accentuating every exquisite feature.

A strand of hair slipped loose, but Chi Yi paid it no mind. The car stopped at the next crosswalk, where the streets buzzed with activity. Vendors on either side sold cherries, their loud calls audible even from inside the vehicle.

Chi Yi stopped working, rolled down the window, and stared intently at the plump cherries in the bamboo baskets.

She seemed to want them desperately, but as the car merged back into the flow of traffic, Chi Yi never asked the driver to stop and indulge her.

Multicolored streetlights flickered in her eyes as she sighed softly and refocused on her work.

But three minutes later, her concentration wavered. Her fingers stilled on the mouse, and she stared blankly at the screen for a long moment.

Then she turned toward where Xie Shaoyun was sitting and called her name: “Xie Shaoyun.”

Xie Shaoyun froze, then waved a hand in front of Chi Yi’s eyes.

Chi Yi didn’t blink or react. She simply gazed at the spot where Xie Shaoyun was, lost in thought.

Xie Shaoyun leaned in, face-to-face, and realized Chi Yi was talking to herself again, her eyes were unfocused, her lips moving soundlessly.

As if accustomed to receiving no response, Chi Yi murmured quietly for a while before finally closing her eyes and whispering, “It was only the fifth day after we got married. You came home very late. When you got back, you opened the cherries I bought and said you were still hungry.”

“Coming home late was your mistake to begin with. Not only did you not apologize, but you also complained there weren’t enough cherries. Then you hugged me and demanded I give back the ones I’d eaten.”

Her expression softened, lost in the memory. “But when I gave them back, your fingers were gentle. You didn’t hurt me, so I didn’t hold it against you.”

Listening to this twisted version of events, Xie Shaoyun wanted to smack her.

Because the truth was nothing like that. It had happened in June, not long before Xie Shaoyun’s death, so she still remembered the details clearly they’d been in the study.

That night, Xie Shaoyun had a client a full-back tattoo, which ran late. She’d grabbed a quick dinner with Damei before heading home after midnight.

Chi Yi, who was supposed to be on a business trip, had returned a day early.

When Xie Shaoyun arrived, she found Chi Yi standing at the door in a cool silk robe, her expression displeased. She leaned in to sniff Xie Shaoyun’s clothes, then frowned slightly.

Xie Shaoyun grinned and asked, “Do I smell like instant noodles?”

Chi Yi’s frown deepened. Coldly, she informed Xie Shaoyun that she wouldn’t be allowed in their bedroom that night because she “stank.”

She also told her to remember not to come home so late or eat instant noodles outside again.

But this time, Chi Yi’s anger wasn’t about her usual lectures on healthy living, she was simply upset that her partner had come home late and left her to eat dinner alone.

Chi Yi didn’t voice her grievances, so Xie Shaoyun naturally had no way of knowing.

Standing at a distance neither too close nor too far, the irregular light fell on Chi Yi’s face. Her peach-blossom eyes were half-lidded, her features all scrunched up, looking utterly forlorn. Xie Shaoyun couldn’t stand seeing her like this. Though she didn’t apologize, she reached out and took Chi Yi’s hand.

After showering, Xie Shaoyun made a point of brushing her teeth twice.

She washed some fruit and brought it to the study as a peace offering.

Under the lamplight, Chi Yi was absorbed in her work, focused and diligent. Xie Shaoyun pushed the fruit plate toward her, but Chi Yi didn’t spare it a glance for the longest time.

Not wanting to disturb her, Xie Shaoyun found a spot to sit and wait.

It was worth noting that after Xie Shaoyun settled in the study, Chi Yi’s pace of flipping through documents noticeably quickened, her efficiency soaring.

Inspired by such diligence, Xie Shaoyun pulled out her phone to handle the tattoo designs scheduled by clients at her studio. Half an hour later, her work was done.

Xie Shaoyun urged Chi Yi to sleep, but once Chi Yi finished her tasks, she stood up and stubbornly enforced her earlier threat of banishing Xie Shaoyun to the guest room.

Being with someone as rigid, disciplined, obsessive, and brutally honest as Chi Yi for so long had taught Xie Shaoyun one thing reasoning with her was futile.

Xie Shaoyun’s strategy was simple: ignore her stubbornness, pay no heed when she said “no.”

Going against her words was always the right move.

So Xie Shaoyun plucked the largest cherry from the fruit plate and held it to Chi Yi’s lips.

“Open up.”

Chi Yi obediently parted her lips, uncharacteristically unresisting, and even took Xie Shaoyun’s fingers into her mouth.

Her gaze drifted downward, Chi Yi’s lips were soft and red, and whether intentional or not, she licked the juice from Xie Shaoyun’s fingers.

No sane person could withstand that. Xie Shaoyun’s lashes lowered as she pressed Chi Yi against the desk, her puppy-dog eyes downcast as she murmured, “Jiejie.”

Then she kissed her deeply, until Chi Yi’s usually cool eyes were clouded with crimson and confusion. Only when the mood was right did Xie Shaoyun pant against her ear, demanding repayment for the fruit.

The entire time, Xie Shaoyun didn’t think she was being unreasonable.

But now, with Chi Yi twisting the facts, Xie Shaoyun found herself easily swayed into comparing who was right or wrong between them.

A faint, peculiar anger simmered within her.

Truthfully, this anger had started earlier, when she saw Chi Yi shopping so contentedly with her mother. Mixed in was a deeper sense of resentment.

After resolving to treat Chi Yi as just a friend, everything had become simpler, more orderly for Xie Shaoyun.

But Chi Yi was infuriating, deliberately placing every little upset right in front of Xie Shaoyun, forcing her to see.

It was like watching a delicious cake spoil. Xie Shaoyun had already decided she wouldn’t eat it, but waiting for it to rot and throwing it away were two entirely different feelings.

Especially during that waiting period, when it still exuded an irresistibly rich, tantalizing aroma, enough to make one reminisce about the sweetness it once offered.

It was unbearable, this sense of waste, this reluctance.

Xie Shaoyun’s expression darkened. Suddenly, she didn’t want to be around Chi Yi at all.

Along with all those deeply ingrained memories, Chi Yi had brought Xie Shaoyun not just beautiful moments but also unforgettable suffocation.

Their marriage appeared unstable in the eyes of outsiders, just as Mrs. Chi had said, Chi Yi had never allowed Xie Shaojun to step into her family or social circles.

So they had never met Xie Shaojun.

This was an abnormal, unequal marital state.

Chi Yi rarely explained why she acted this way. In the past, Xie Shaojun might have spent time trying to adjust, to decipher, to force herself to overlook it. But now that she was dead, revisiting the past meant dredging up endless complications.

Xie Shaojun hated complications.

She didn’t bother looking at Chi Yi’s expression again. She attempted to leap out of the car and float elsewhere, only to find herself confined within a ten-meter radius of Chi Yi. As the car moved, the distance stretched, but the moment she tried to jump off, an immense force yanked her back to Chi Yi’s side.

She didn’t understand why she had become a spectral entity bound to Chi Yi’s movements. But Xie Shaojun wasn’t one to sit idly by. She tried reaching out to the system in her mind, repeating the attempt several times to no avail.

She recalled the only conversation she’d had with the system after her rebirth.

The system’s exact words were: Her life was tied to Chi Yi’s.

As long as she kept an eye on Chi Yi and ensured nothing happened to her, Xie Shaojun shouldn’t die again.

As for how to return, after much deliberation, the solution seemed to lie with Chi Yi.

Unable to make sense of it, Xie Shaojun stopped overthinking. Her spectral form was weak, so she closed her tired eyes and fell asleep.

Meanwhile, under the dim car lights, Chi Yi, lost in thought gazed blankly at the empty seat beside her. Suddenly, she covered her face, slid down against the backrest, and wept helplessly.

Second update late tonight. Read it tomorrow morning. this is just an appetizer. I must finish writing everything today. No more delays.