After My Death, Everyone Repented (Transmigration) - Chapter 35

Chi Yi actually understood nothing. From childhood, she had high intelligence, was solitary, and marched to the beat of her own drum.

It wasn’t until she started working that she had a few partners.

She couldn’t comprehend others’ childish emotions, and others couldn’t grasp her aloofness.

She was like a higher-tier human, mingling in the world of ordinary people.

She obtained many things effortlessly, so nothing ever seemed difficult to her, nothing left her at a loss, and nothing plunged her into negativity.

She didn’t even consider her lack of emotions or empathy a flaw, because it allowed her to calmly handle every problem.

So, she had no friends, no playmates, and wasn’t close to her parents.

Intimate social relationships were almost nonexistent, her only friend was No. 1, and her only partner was Xie Shaojun.

But they died without a shred of remorse.

Chi Yi started investigating the reasons behind it all, beginning in a state of confusion and bewilderment.

Now, she seemed to understand a little, but there were still many things she didn’t grasp.

Because Xie Shaojun had suddenly died.

Forced into emotional turmoil, she began blaming herself, repenting, and then she forgot she lacked empathy, forgot she was emotionally stable.

She started imagining walking every step of Xie Shaojun’s path with cancer, and like a beginner, trudging alone, she became unable to maintain emotional stability.

She didn’t even know how to cry properly the only two times she did, Xie Shaojun saw it.

On the subway, her eyes were wide open, tears falling silently and swiftly.

Soon, even the redness around her eyes vanished, as if she weren’t grieving deeply or as if the grief were unbearable.

For some reason, Xie Shaojun felt Chi Yi’s tears weren’t shed for herself, but for Xie Shaojun.

Seeing Chi Yi’s cold, stunning face twisted into an expression of utter despair made Xie Shaojun feel anger, frustration, blame all sorts of inappropriate emotions.

At this moment, Xie Shaojun desperately wanted to tell Chi Yi: “I’m doing fine now. If you could just let go of the past, I’d be even better.”

“None of this is necessary anymore especially your repentance, Chi Yi. Do you understand?”

But Chi Yi didn’t understand. Her boundless emotional dullness kept her from grasping it.

Xie Shaojun felt an urgent need to voice her thoughts, to yell at Chi Yi, to shake her out of her muddled, deeply negative existence.

She wanted to speak, even if Chi Yi wouldn’t understand.

Even if those words would reveal Xie Shaojun’s current identity as Xie Haoyun, she wanted to scold Chi Yi so badly that being discovered almost didn’t matter anymore.

It was Xie Guangqi’s fault. It was Jian Qing who forced her to take the final step. It was Chi Yi who gave up first.

In every past event, Xie Shaojun had acted with fearless integrity. If they dared to bother her, she should’ve struck back without hesitation.

Instead, she kept running from those memories. From rebirth until now, it felt like she hadn’t truly lived freely.

Yunwan Station arrived. Chi Yi stepped out of the train.

Following the crowd, she squeezed onto the escalator and exited the subway.

Chi Yi returned to normal, answering a phone call midway.

Xie Shaojun’s eyelids felt heavy, but her mind was restless, unwilling to sleep, so she strained to listen to a few words.

Secretary Wang said Chi Yi needed to fly to Alaska in an hour and a half to sign a contract. The original schedule was set for noon local time, with the signing to be completed then.

The cruise ship would depart at six in the afternoon.

Chi Yi gave a quiet “Mm” in response.

Then she instructed Secretary Wang to park the car by the roadside near Line 2 of Yunwan Road subway station.

Secretary Wang replied, “Got it.”

Soon after, Xie Shaojun fell asleep.

When she woke up again inside the skull pendant, Xie Shaojun smelled the salty tang of seawater and felt the gentle sea breeze brushing against her.

Her vision remained vast and unobstructed the open sea stretched before her.

It was already dusk, but the sky overhead wasn’t the sunset one would expect in Alaska. There was no icy tundra, no thick down jackets.

Judging by the season, the Alaskan coastline should have been freezing at this time.

Yet Chi Yi was still wearing the same casual outfit she had on earlier in the subway. Before long, she walked onto the beach.

As she moved, Xie Shaojun adjusted her perspective. A few minutes later, she spotted a sign in the distance that read: “Waiting for You at Shanmian Bay.”

This was Shanmian County, a seaside park.

For some reason, the tension in Xie Shaojun’s heart eased slightly, but the relief didn’t last.

She watched as Chi Yi walked to the water’s edge, kicked off her high heels onto the sand, and stepped barefoot into the shallow surf.

Chi Yi’s gaze fixed on a particular spot in the middle of the ocean, as if trying to discern something. The next second, her expression twisted with panic as she shouted toward the distance, “Xie Shaojun, get out of the water! It’s dangerous!”

But the spot Chi Yi was staring at there was nothing there at all.

She was having an episode. Late-stage depression could cause severe hallucinations. Chi Yi kept calling Xie Shaojun’s name toward the empty sea, begging her not to do anything reckless.

“Snap out of it! When the tide recedes, the water level drops, and the sandbar appears , just a barren stretch of mud. When the tide rises, the sea swallows it whole. That feeling of drowning in overwhelming love? It only suffocates you, cutting off your oxygen.”

Chi Yi kept listing reasons why the ocean wasn’t worth admiring. She reached out toward the empty air, her voice turning desperate as she pleaded under the fractured glow of twilight, “Get up, please!”

“I’m not asking for your forgiveness just stay alive, okay?”

With that, Chi Yi took two more steps into the water. Her hallucination must not have responded, so she waded deeper, trying to drag the illusion back to shore.

The seawater rose past her calves, then her thighs, soon reaching her waist.

Frowning, Chi Yi called Xie Shaojun’s name again, her voice hoarse but firm. “Xie Shaojun, get up.”

Xie Shaojun couldn’t take it anymore. She punched and kicked at Chi Yi’s neck.

But the skull pendant’s power was too weak.

Chi Yi didn’t react.

“Chi Yi,” Xie Shaojun spoke up. “Don’t take another step into the water.”

Chi Yi paused she must have heard her.

But after a dazed moment, she kept walking forward.

Xie Shaojun asked sharply, “Can’t you hear me?”

Chi Yi couldn’t ignore the voice, so she answered honestly, “I can.”

“Do you know you’re sick right now?”

“I should know. You and her, you’re both part of the illness.” Chi Yi replied, “I’m sorry, but I have to save her first.”

Unable to make sense of her rambling, Xie Shaojun relied on instinct.

“You’re sick, and I’m telling you to stop now,” Xie Shaojun insisted.

Chi Yi remained unmoved, so Xie Shaojun lost her patience. “How do I prove I’m not a hallucination?”

Chi Yi seemed to find the question difficult. Her brow furrowed, but she stayed silent.

Xie Shaojun was both furious and amused: “When did you become so useless? I didn’t want to reveal myself to you, but I couldn’t help coming out to scold you. Depression isn’t your shield. After making so many mistakes, have you ever once apologized to me?”

Chi Yi’s expression twisted in pain, but she stubbornly insisted she wasn’t running away, she just couldn’t bear to watch Xie Shaojun drown, not even in her hallucinations.

Xie Shaojun held back for a long moment, resisting the urge to mimic Xie Zangxing’s gentle persuasion. Instead, she harshly berated Chi Yi, calling her downright insufferable: “I’ve wanted to slap you for a long time.”

“The day I was diagnosed with cancer, I went to the hospital. The doctor asked to notify my family, so I called you. You said you were busy.”

Chi Yi’s face contorted further, but she continued wading deeper into the sea, murmuring to the empty air not to do anything reckless.

Xie Shaojun didn’t bother stopping her forcefully. Instead, she calmly recounted Chi Yi’s past wrongs: “The day Jian Qing was hospitalized after ruining her skin, we ran into my oncologist in the elevator.”

“All you had to do was ask one more question, and you would’ve known I had cancer. I wasn’t even planning to hide it from you. If you’d asked, I would’ve spent my last days with you.”

“On the night Da Mei and I celebrated my birthday, Xie Guangqi cut ties with me as his daughter. Da Mei called you to pick me up, but you said we were divorced. It was pouring outside the rain was freezing. I thought to myself, Chi Yi, it’s better if you stay this heartless forever. That way, I won’t have to worry.”

Chi Yi’s lips trembled, her fists clenched.

But Xie Shaojun wasn’t done. With a cold, mocking laugh, she spat, “Look at what you’ve become. What part of you is even worth my past affection, let alone my current concern?”

“If you’re sick, go see a doctor. Why bother me? I’d much rather you turn into a statue, at least then I wouldn’t have to worry about your emotional breakdowns.”

“Chi Yi, did I commit some unforgivable sin in a past life? Did I carve out your heart? Is that why I’m still tangled up with you in this one, forced to save you?”

As she spoke, an eerie image flashed through Xie Shaojun’s mind, an operating table from a memory that wasn’t hers. The person lying there wasn’t her, but Chi Yi.

Under the blinding white surgical lights, amidst the sterile green scrubs, Chi Yi lay on the table, barely clinging to life.

Xie Shaojun blinked, her voice faltering.

She quickly shook off the unsettlingly vivid scene and called Chi Yi’s name.

“Chi Yi,” Xie Shaojun demanded, “Am I not worth trusting? You’d rather believe in hallucinations than me? If you take one more step into that sea today, I swear I’ll never forgive you not in this life, or any other.”

Chi Yi froze mid-step, suddenly looking around frantically. Her soft lips were bitten bloody, but the deserted island offered no sign of anyone else.

Yet she turned her head, searching left and right, her voice hoarse and expression disbelieving as she whispered, “Xie Shaojun, where are you?”

Xie Shaojun lifted her noble skull and smacked Chi Yi hard on the neck.

“Get out of the water first,” she ordered coldly.

Chi Yi moved sluggishly, bending down to pick up the skull. She clutched it tightly, as if in shock, holding Xie Shaojun up to eye level before, at her urging, finally turning back toward the shore.

Yet the tide came in, waves crashing behind Chi Yi, the seawater quickly submerging her head. Chi Yi lifted Xie Shaojun high above her.

Xie Shaojun saw the desperate panic in Chi Yi’s eyes as she flailed in the sea, the water making it hard for her to breathe.

Xie Shaojun told Chi Yi to put her down after all, a skull couldn’t feel the suffocation of being submerged.

Chi Yi didn’t respond. She switched to a breaststroke, swimming with one arm, gulping down mouthfuls of seawater. For a few seconds, she was completely buried beneath the waves, not resurfacing.

Anxiously, Xie Shaojun called Chi Yi’s name.

For some reason, Chi Yi suddenly kicked her legs and broke through the surface.

Only when Chi Yi swam out of the deep waters, where the sea reached just her calves, did Xie Shaojun finally relax.

She said to Chi Yi, “Don’t do this again. Go see a doctor.”

Chi Yi replied softly, “Okay.”

After a quiet moment, perhaps realizing how insane she must have seemed, Chi Yi closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and lifted the skull necklace to eye level. Then, solemnly, she asked, “Is it you, Xie Shaojun? Are you inside this skull?”

Xie Shaojun nodded. “Yes.”

“Last time was you too?” Chi Yi asked.

Xie Shaojun didn’t answer that question, urging Chi Yi to get ashore quickly.

Chi Yi didn’t press further.

Once on shore, exhausted, she sat ungracefully on the ground, her hair and clothes soaked. Behind her, the sunset painted the sky in dazzling hues, casting her delicate features in a heartbreakingly beautiful light, evidence of the dangerous state she had just been in.

Xie Shaojun stole a few more glances at the soft contours of Chi Yi’s face, not daring to let her gaze wander lower.

Feeling restless, Xie Shaojun asked an inappropriate question: “Are you planning to walk out dressed like this?”

Chi Yi picked up the skull, carefully running her fingers over it, maintaining a composed expression as she said, “If you’d prefer, I can call Secretary Wang to bring me clothes.”

Xie Shaojun didn’t feel like engaging.

She had wanted to ask why Chi Yi wasn’t on a plane to Alaska. Though curiosity gnawed at her, she held back, not wanting to reveal her lingering interest in Chi Yi.

Considering she had essentially revealed her identity, Xie Shaojun decided to find a chance to sit down with Chi Yi and properly discuss the reasons for their divorce, then draw a clear line between them, finally closing the unresolved chapter from two years ago.

But before Xie Shaojun could ask, Chi Yi pressed her lips together and spoke up first.

She explained in detail why she had appeared at Shanmian County’s seaside park.

Chi Yi said her schedule had originally been set, she was supposed to fly to Alaska at 7 p.m. to negotiate with Lawrence. At 6 p.m. local time, she would board a yacht. The meeting was set in Alaska because Xie Shaojun’s ashes had been scattered in those waters.

“Then what changed your mind?” Xie Shaojun couldn’t help but ask.

Chi Yi, still struggling to believe any of this was real, clutched Xie Shaojun tightly in her hand. Gazing earnestly into the skull’s hollow eyes, she said, “I didn’t want to go see that sea anymore.”

Back in the tearoom, ever since Xie Guangqi had coldly told Chi Yi, “We loved her. We just wanted her to be better, more outstanding, more like the daughter our family raised…”

Perhaps it was Jian Qing’s angry revelation of the truth, Xie Shaoyun had never done anything wrong. “She doesn’t owe me anything. It was all my scheme. I wanted to go abroad.”

Or perhaps it was the moment on the subway when the young man with blond hair offered his seat to Chi Yi, who was perfectly healthy. She effortlessly enjoyed the kindness of others, yet two years ago, Xie Shaoyun, who was dying of cancer, never had the chance to be cared for by anyone.

Chi Yi actually understood nothing, but she knew that if she died, no one would love Xie Shaoyun anymore.

After a moment of thought, Chi Yi lowered her gaze and said to Xie Shaoyun, “I canceled the flight to Alaska because if I were to find release too, no one in this world would care for you anymore.”

Xie Shaoyun wanted to argue, but when she saw the clear, slightly bewildered peach-blossom eyes of Chi Yi, she couldn’t bring herself to say that she now had many people who cared for her, she didn’t lack Chi Yi alone.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know I’d have an episode today,” Chi Yi said, trying hard to justify herself.

She told Xie Shaoyun, “Late-stage depression can be managed with intervention and guidance from a psychologist. It’s possible to reintegrate into society. I rarely have episodes, actually.”

Xie Shaoyun didn’t dare listen to her rambling any longer. Irritated, she twisted the skull pendant and said to Chi Yi, “Stop talking nonstop. I’m a little tired.”

Chi Yi obediently fell silent, walking softly. Xie Shaoyun watched her lips part slightly as if she desperately wanted to ask something, but in the end, she held back, looking visibly uncomfortable.

Xie Shaoyun felt a pang of sadness and relented, “You can ask, but only for one minute.”

“Was that black shadow following me last night you? I saw you disappear into the skull pendant.”

Xie Shaoyun let out a surprised “Hmm?” “You can see me?”

Confirming that Xie Shaoyun was indeed the same ruthless Xie Shaoyun from last night and not a figment of her imagination, Chi Yi smiled faintly, though the smile was strained. She seemed reluctant to bring it up but nodded. “I can see you.”

Xie Shaoyun wanted to ask why Chi Yi described her as black, but Chi Yi quickly changed the subject, her voice soft as she asked the second question, “What about the cemetery last time? You said you were”

“What cemetery?” Xie Shaoyun interrupted, expecting Chi Yi to press further. But Chi Yi merely glanced at her and gently touched the skull pendant with her fingers.

“That’s all,” Chi Yi said, surprisingly considerate.

Then she reached to touch the skull pendant again, but Xie Shaoyun dodged her hand.

The faint smile on Chi Yi’s lips vanished. She restrained herself with practiced discipline, standing still as she asked Xie Shaoyun, “Will I bump into you if I walk?”

“Of course you will.”

Xie Shaoyun complained that Chi Yi’s collarbone wasn’t a comfortable place to rest it was sharp like a blade.

Chi Yi immediately asked if she should hold her in her palm instead. Xie Shaoyun shook her head, wrinkling her nose at Chi Yi’s damp hands and pockets. “Just take care of yourself.”

Seeing her resistance, Chi Yi didn’t insist. She bid Xie Shaoyun goodnight.

Then she walked ten meters ahead, finding her bag on the beach. Since she hadn’t been in the water long, her phone was still there, untouched.

Chi Yi slipped on her high heels and crouched by the shore, splashing icy seawater onto her face, earning an annoyed scoff from Xie Shaoyun.

A faint smile tugged at the corners of Chi Yi’s lips. She stopped splashing water.

She took out her phone and called Secretary Wang, instructing her to bring a set of clothes over.

“You’re at the beach?” The secretary’s voice paused, then suddenly took a sharp, urgent breath.

“Do you need me to call an ambulance?”

“No need.” Chi Yi reprimanded Secretary Wang in a strange tone, then softened her voice and said, “If there’s nothing else, I’ll hang up.”

Secretary Wang hesitated. “Could you speak a little louder? I can’t hear you here.”

Chi Yi frowned, for the first time expressing dissatisfaction with her secretary’s loud voice, and quickly ended the call.

Unable to resist, she glanced at the skull. It made no sound now, lying motionless as if lifeless.

Chi Yi watched quietly for a long time, her expression growing increasingly anxious as time passed.

Finally, she tentatively called Xie Shaojun’s name: “Are you asleep?”

Xie Shaojun:

“Still there?” Chi Yi asked again.

“Xie Shaojun.”

Chi Yi tirelessly called Xie Shaojun’s name several times, but there was no response. Anxious and flustered, she picked up Xie Shaojun and annoyingly brought the skull close to her ear, creating even more noise: “Xie Shaojun.”

Xie Shaojun angrily opened her eyes, impatiently scolding her for being insane, then sternly called Chi Yi’s name: “Chi Yi, stop disturbing my sleep.”

Even after being warned by Xie Shaojun, Chi Yi actually smiled. She didn’t argue back, instead gently stroking the skull with her fingers and agreeing, “Mm, I won’t say anything.”

“Do you need a wake-up call service?” she asked again.

Xie Shaojun replied expressionlessly, “No need.”

“Alright,” Chi Yi said. “I’ll wake you up in two hours.”

Before falling asleep, Xie Shaojun thought with great unrest: Thank goodness I’m free now. I never planned to give her a chance, because Chi Yi’s inability to find a wife is simply a natural talent.

Generally, if there’s no update before midnight, it’ll be posted the next day, so don’t wait, my dears. Because I can’t write about voluntary actions like throwing oneself into the sea, I had to make these changes. Last night, I had to revise the outline because of this plot restriction, and honestly, it was a bit crushing. But there was no other way. This is the best I could come up with, I tried my hardest.