After My Death, Everyone Repented (Transmigration) - Chapter 38.1

Early the next morning, Xie Qingcheng went through the discharge procedures for Xie Shaoyun.

The wait for discharge was rather dull, so Xie Shaoyun pulled out her phone and saw four unread messages.

“Did you go back?”

It was from Chi Yi, sent last night.

Chi Yi said, “I’m sorry,” and “I couldn’t control myself pretty despicable, right?”

The words carried a hint of barely maintained composure, as if Chi Yi were a student desperately needing guidance.

After a two-minute pause from the previous message, likely in a state of confusion, Chi Yi asked, “Or do you think there’s something else I should do instead?”

Xie Shaoyun hadn’t replied to any of these four messages last night.

Because after waking up, she had barely spoken a few words before falling back asleep.

Scrolling further down, the last message had been sent two minutes ago.

Chi Yi wrote: “Xie Shaoyun, could you maybe like me just a little?”

After reading it, Xie Shaoyun didn’t reply. She locked her screen.

Having been unconscious for several days, work had piled up. Xie Shaoyun and her assistant shuttled back and forth between Beicheng and Sijiu City three times in a row.

After finalizing the last adjustments for the art exhibition, Xie Shaoyun barely had time to catch her breath before the association assistant reminded her that this year’s lecture at Ning University was about to begin.

On Friday morning, Xie Shaoyun squeezed in time to give a lecture at Ning University.

The venue was the university auditorium, and as she pushed the door open, she was momentarily taken aback by the sea of faces before her.

“So many people?” she asked.

The students fell silent at the sight of her striking appearance.

From the back, someone boldly called out, “Hey, classmate, what’s your phone number?”

Xie Shaoyun smirked at the audacious brat and said, “Who’s the class monitor? Take down this student’s name and report it to their professor. Tell them I said to deduct three points from their final exam.”

The room fell silent for three seconds before erupting in laughter. “Hahahaha!”

Even the punished student laughed.

Xie Shaoyun had brought teaching materials, but her lecture wasn’t a dry, academic monologue.

Instead, she used real-world examples to discuss painting techniques, color schemes, and stylistic shifts practical insights that students often needed guidance on, making it highly beneficial for their coursework.

Throughout the lecture, nearly everyone listened attentively.

However, Xie Shaoyun was young, with striking features and a distinctive teaching style. Even with black-framed glasses, she didn’t look like a conventional professor.

By the second half, during the Q&A and interactive segment, she was completely approachable.

By the end of the lecture, the students had stopped calling her “professor.”

“Xie Meimei, when are you coming back?”

“Not coming back,” Xie Shaoyun said, closing her laptop. The students groaned in disappointment.

Tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, she looked up at the cheeky brats and asked, “Want to see me again?”

“Yes!” The collective response was a testament to her charisma.

Sunlight spilled into Xie Shaoyun’s eyes, making her squint slightly. With a playful curl of her lips, she told them, “Then study hard. Walk into the future where I stand, and shine brightly beside me.”

Seated among the crowd, Chi Yi stared unwaveringly at the radiant figure before her, unable to look away.

She recalled the words she had once repeatedly admonished Xie Shaoyun with: “You’re not like this. You should be someone outstanding and dazzling just like me.”

Xie Shaojun had always been dazzlingly outstanding.

Chi Yi remembered the first time she saw her the blatant defiance in Xie Shaojun’s eyes, her unrestrained, radiant smile.

But later, in the midst of countless sentences like “You should” and “You can,” Chi Yi saw Xie Shaojun’s silent, wordless back as she walked away.

Chi Yi couldn’t bear it. She could accept repentance, could live without Xie Shaojun’s forgiveness, could even give up everything she had.

Chi Yi thought all of this was enough to prove her love for Xie Shaojun. But today, she realized, she might not actually know how to love.

In all their time together, Chi Yi had filled their relationship with inequality under the guise of love.

It was Xie Shaojun who had always tolerated her, never holding it against her.

And Chi Yi had never given Xie Shaojun the true respect she deserved, never considered her feelings.

Even if many of Xie Shaojun’s emotions seemed unnecessary in Chi Yi’s eyes, they mattered in Xie Shaojun’s world.

Chi Yi thought, perhaps her love with Xie Shaojun was doomed to be a tragedy.

A proud, aloof snow mountain met the most beautiful snowflake in the world. The mountain said to the snowflake, “Hurry and grow up. Once you’re big enough, you can stand at my height and see the world with me.”

But either the snowflake remained just that a beautiful snowflake, never reaching the mountain’s height, until it finally chose to leave on its own.

Or the snowflake became a mountain itself, but by then, it was no longer a snowflake.

If the mountain stubbornly insisted on viewing the snowflake only from its own perspective, they would forever remain a tragedy, forever unable to be together.

Around her, students left in twos and threes. The auditorium grew quiet, the surroundings empty. Chi Yi didn’t leave. She stayed for a long time.

In the drawn-out silence, Chi Yi stepped onto the podium where Xie Shaojun had stood earlier.

And then it came to her, the kind snowflake had always been telling the mountain how to save itself:

“Study hard. Walk into the future where I am, and stand beside me as my equal.”

During class, Xie Shaojun had offhandedly said something meaningless, something even she forgot afterward.

But then, some little brat in the classroom recorded her lecture and posted it online. That last line was clipped into a meme, skyrocketing to the top of the trending list.

That evening, Qin Wan called her about it.

“Nice one. Saved us the studio’s marketing budget.”

Xie Shaojun was annoyed. “Any way to get that off the trending list?”

Qin Wan brushed her off with a few perfunctory words before moving on to business. She briefly discussed the studio’s development plans for the next few years.

Over the years, Xie Haoyun’s paintings had gained increasing recognition, and with the studio’s current limitations, many new opportunities had opened up.

Qin Wan wanted to leverage Xie Shaojun’s reputation, tap into connections, and expand the studio’s prospects.

“Sounds good,” Xie Shaojun said. “You decide.”

With the main investor’s approval, Qin Wan grew more talkative.

Then, she brought up a few logo design projects she’d recently been in touch with.

“One of them is for a high-end jewelry show,” Qin Wan said. “Plenty of studios are competing for the logo design, but they specifically asked for you. Interested?”

Xie Shaojun thought for a moment. “I’ve got an exhibition next month. No time.”

Qin Wan said, “Their show has been postponed because the main guest’s schedule was delayed. The original date will be pushed back, likely avoiding a clash with your exhibition, so there’s plenty of time.”

Xie Shaojun didn’t agree immediately, only telling Qin Wan she’d think about it for now.

Qin Wan didn’t press further.

Instead, she put some thought into leveraging the buzz Xie Shaojun had brought up today.

“I want to use this momentum to craft a positive, glamorous persona for you, a talented and beautiful female artist to attract fans, boost engagement, and expand market reach. It’ll help pave the way for the studio’s future design projects.”

Xie Shaojun lifted her eyelids and refused Qin Wan outright.

“I have no issue with raising the studio’s profile, but I won’t play along with manufactured personas.”

Her tone left no room for negotiation.

Qin Wan paused, choosing her words carefully before trying to persuade her earnestly. “Xiao Xie, this is the era of the mass market. Even the biggest artists are actively embracing marketing strategies now.”

“There’s no need to hold yourself back, this is just trend-driven promotion. Do you know why there’s suddenly so much noise online about you losing your touch? Because many of those trending hashtags are smear campaigns bought by your competitors.”

Qin Wan sighed. “Xiao Xie, let’s aim higher. Don’t live life so passively.”

Xie Shaojun was amused and told her this wasn’t passivity.

“Marketing might grow a following, but have you considered that I’m already established? It’s like child stars, what sustains them later isn’t their early roles, but their mature acting skills as adults. The same goes for me. Good work speaks for itself. There’s a difference between quality and gimmicks. Maybe I just prefer the high-end route.”

Unable to argue, Qin Wan pursed her lips, forced a smile, changed the subject, and hung up.

Xie Shaojun wasn’t particularly bothered, though she knew Qin Wan had her own agenda.

When it came to the studio’s philosophy, the two of them had many differences.

Qin Wan and Chi Yi were actually similar in their driven, ambitious natures.

The difference was, during her time as a necklace, Xie Shaojun had seen Chi Yi at her lowest, even in emotional turmoil, Chi Yi still worked diligently, pushing through overtime to handle everything within her control.

What she delivered was the best she could offer at the time cutting-edge technology, impeccable products. Her arrogance was backed by skill, demanding as much from others as she did from herself. That was why she came off as blunt, making her seem high-handed.

Qin Wan’s competitiveness, however, carried a hint of cutting corners.

Not that her approach was wrong, it was just that Xie Shaojun, in some ways, was more like Chi Yi.

Both were prideful in their talents. Call it an artist’s eccentricity free-spirited, unconventional. Or, less charitably, willful, blindly confident that they could carve out a space even in a saturated market.

So she often wondered if she, too, was just stubborn.

After a busy week, Xie Shaojun suddenly remembered, she had promised to take Chi Yi to see a psychologist.

But since she had lashed out at Chi Yi before leaving, she couldn’t bring herself to reach out first.

She saw Chi Yi again that evening when she returned home to find the lights on.

Chi Yi had just finished dinner and was about to leave.

Xie Cheng was seeing her out when they ran into Xie Shaojun rolling her suitcase through the door.

Strangely enough, Xie Cheng introduced Xie Shaojun to Chi Yi by saying, “This is my daughter, Xie Shaojun.”

Chi Yi opened her mouth slightly, as if she very much wanted to speak to Xie Shaojun, but for some reason, not a single word came out.

She stared straight at Xie Shaojun for a moment before lowering her gaze.

Completely unaware, Xie Cheng introduced the two: “This is CEO Chi of Haimi Tech. She’s a year older than you, so by age, you should call her ‘sister.'”

There was no way that was happening.

Xie Shaojun looked up and noticed Chi Yi watching her.

So she compromised and said, “Hello, Xie Shaojun.”

Chi Yi’s lips moved slightly, but perhaps Xie Shaojun’s manner of greeting was something Chi Yi found deeply off-putting, because she averted her gaze and silently brushed past Xie Shaojun, leaving the Xie household.

Xie Cheng personally escorted Chi Yi to her car. When he returned, he found Xie Shaojun sitting blankly at the dining table.

Xie Cheng walked over and asked, “Not in a good mood?”

Xie Shaojun pressed her lips into a faint smile and lazily replied, “Not at all. Just not very hungry after being busy.”

She didn’t seem particularly inclined to talk either. She mechanically shoveled a few mouthfuls of plain rice into her mouth before pushing the bowl away and declaring she was done.

With only Xie Cheng at home, the remaining food on the table was sparse. Xie Shaojun helped clear the dishes and, as if casually, asked Xie Cheng, “Auntie isn’t here today. Why were you the one hosting guests alone?”

“Now that you mention it, it does seem a bit inappropriate,” Xie Cheng admitted. The dinner with Chi Yi had originally been scheduled for the following Friday, and he had taken it very seriously. Xie Qingcheng and Xie Cangxing had even taken time off to come home and help entertain.

But Chi Yi had abruptly changed her plans.

“She said she was in town for a friend’s university lecture and dropped by on the way. She probably won’t be coming back to Sijiu City again.”

Xie Shaojun lowered her eyes, staring at the iced tea in her hands, her expression unreadable as she remarked, “That’s way too capricious.”

Xie Cheng shot her a glare, then lightly tapped her head with a rolled-up newspaper. “Watch your tone.”

“If it’s not, then it’s not. No need to hit me,” Xie Shaojun muttered, lifting her eyelids slightly but not pressing further.

That evening, Xie Shaojun curled up on the couch with her legs tucked under her, watching a movie with Xie Cheng. She sipped the now-cold tea, and when Xie Cheng noticed, he scolded her, swapping it out for a glass of milk.

For some reason, as the milk touched her lips, she felt a strange pang in her chest.

At 9 p.m., Feng Qianqian returned home after her skincare routine. Xie Cheng, freshly showered, bowed his head and reported the day’s rather shabby hosting efforts to his wife.

Feng Qianqian narrowed her eyes and ordered Xie Cheng to face the wall and reflect on his mistakes.

“Sweetheart, the dinner being moved up really wasn’t my fault,” Xie Cheng pleaded, more afraid of his wife than anyone. “Chi Yi is far more composed than our eldest. Her not returning to Sijiu City definitely isn’t because I was a bad host.”

Feng Qianqian remained silent.

Xie Cheng looked on the verge of tears. “I think she might’ve gone through a breakup. She didn’t say she’d never come back just that she wasn’t good enough yet and wanted to improve first.”

He repeated Chi Yi’s exact words to Feng Qianqian, mimicking her tone:

“I have a friend who’s leaving. Maybe I’m not handling it well, I really don’t want to let go. But the way I’m trying to keep them is only making it harder for them to tolerate me.”

Xie Shaojun kept the movie playing late into the night, cycling through it three times. By the time Xie Qingcheng returned home, she finally went upstairs.

The next day, Xie Shaojun finally wrapped up her tasks. That afternoon, the curator arrived in Sijiu City.

Lin Dan happened to be free that day.

After a phone call, they arranged to meet.

“Xie Shaoyun, I need to take a friend to the airport at 9 p.m., so we’ll have to move this dinner up. Do you mind?”

Xie Shaoyun said she didn’t mind.

They arranged to meet at a well-known suburban restaurant.

Before heading out, Xie Shaoyun drove her newly purchased G-Class to pick up the curator, Robot, from the airport. Then, she spent quite a while searching for a parking spot.

“Sorry I’m late,” she said as she pushed open the door. Inside, Lin Dan was pouring tea for Chi Yi.

When her eyes met Chi Yi’s, Xie Shaoyun froze for a brief moment before walking over and greeting her warmly. She then introduced the curator beside her: “This is Robot.”

Lin Dan and Robot had met before.

She stepped forward to shake hands. “We’ve met before. Long time no see, Robot.”

After that, she was presumably about to introduce Chi Yi.

Unexpectedly, Robot recognized Chi Yi and was even more eager than either of them.

He walked past Xie Shaoyun and Lin Dan, approached Chi Yi, and bent slightly in a formal handshake. “Miss Chi, it’s an honor.”

Chi Yi nodded, possibly not remembering who Robot was. Robot didn’t mind and brought up the jewelry exhibition in Haicheng: “We met once before. I’m the curator for the show.”

Chi Yi listened quietly as Robot spoke.

Lin Dan gestured for Xie Shaoyun to sit. Xie Shaoyun strode over, heading for the seat directly across from Chi Yi.

But the next second, through a wisp of rising tea steam, Chi Yi held her teacup and looked straight at Xie Shaoyun with her peach-blossom eyes.

It seemed she had a lot to say, things like “Xie Shaoyun,” or “Come sit here,” or even “Why are you ignoring me?”

But she swallowed all of it back. Her face showed little emotion, yet Xie Shaoyun could tell Chi Yi was struggling her lashes lowered as if she desperately wanted to say something.

In the end, she pressed her lips tightly together, the corners of her mouth downturned. There was a faint trace of grievance in her voice as she said softly, “Hello, Chi Yi.”

For some reason, Xie Shaoyun suddenly felt like laughing.

Beside them, Lin Dan had already burst into laughter.