After My Death, Everyone Repented (Transmigration) - Chapter 41

It was nearly one in the morning, and the streets weren’t particularly busy.

The streetlights blurred in her vision, making everything seem harder to see. Xie Shaoyun stepped on the brakes and pulled over near the hotel.

Not far away stood a slender lamppost plastered with small advertisement cards. A drunk man leaned against it, his back hunched, posture eerily similar to how Chi Yi had leaned against the wall earlier. The light cast his expression in vivid detail.

Xie Shaoyun sat in the car, watching for a while.

When Qin Wan’s call came through, the drunk man was retching against the lamppost, his head hanging low. Hearing the sound, he turned toward Xie Shaoyun, his eyes bloodshot.

She lifted her gaze and met his stare. The man froze, then awkwardly turned away, facing the brightly lit part of the city as if the light hurt his eyes. He swallowed hard, suppressing a sob, then stumbled over broken glass bottles, staggering away in the opposite direction.

Just like the man’s wretched retreat, Xie Shaoyun’s mood soured completely.

The call connected, and the deafening crash of drum music blasted through the phone.

Qin Wan shouted her name: “Xiao Xie! Why aren’t you here yet?”

Xie Shaoyun didn’t feel like talking. She was thoroughly irritated.

Watching the drunk man disappear down the street, Xie Shaoyun finally responded to Qin Wan’s repeated urging by asking her to send the address.

“I’ll call you a car.”

Qin Wan said, “Can’t you just come pick me up yourself?”

“No.” Xie Shaoyun refused without hesitation. Patience had never been her strong suit.

Despite Qin Wan’s insistence for reasons unknown on having Xie Shaoyun come, and despite her lamenting how pitiful her night had been her ex-girlfriend was getting married to a man, Xie Shaoyun bluntly told her that while she sympathized, it was too late.

“I’ll have the family driver pick you up,” Xie Shaoyun said. “If a hired driver or taxi isn’t safe enough.”

Qin Wan sounded disappointed, explaining that she wanted to talk because of her heartbreak.

“Emotions are contagious,” Xie Shaoyun replied. “I’m not in a great mood tonight either.”

Qin Wan sighed. “Fine. Next time I’m drunk, you have to come get me.”

Xie Shaoyun neither agreed nor disagreed.

She hung up.

Xie Shaoyun got along well with her friends. Though sharp-tongued, she had a soft heart. If they asked for help, she’d usually agree unless it was too much, grumbling a little at most.

She had picked Qin Wan up two or three times before in Si Jiu City. As business partners, Qin Wan often attended networking events where, as a woman, she sometimes faced harassment.

Women should help women, that was the principle Xie Shaoyun had been raised with. Out of consideration for that, she rarely refused when Qin Wan called late at night for a ride.

But tonight, Xie Shaoyun felt Qin Wan had crossed a line.

Why bother her for something a hired driver could easily handle? Was her time not valuable?

So when Qin Wan called again a minute later, Xie Shaoyun was direct:

“You know who’d sacrifice sleep to pick you up unconditionally? Someone who loves you.”

Qin Wan paused.

Xie Shaoyun continued, “That’s not the kind of relationship we have. It’s not appropriate.”

Her voice was somewhat cold, and Qin Wan probably picked up on it. She didn’t push her luck further. When she hung up, Xie Shaojun faintly heard Qin Wan speaking to someone beside her.

Xie Shaojun didn’t pay much attention because after saying the words “someone who loves you,” she herself had frozen.

On the long, empty street late at night, with no one around, her mind drifted, and Xie Shaojun recalled the mention of the confession earlier by Chi Yi.

During the summer break of her freshman year, on July 23rd, Xie Shaojun flew to Melbourne to confess to Chi Yi. The whole thing wasn’t just Xie Shaojun being lovesick, throwing caution to the wind for love.

In fact, before that, Chi Yi had already made it clear her feelings, her insistence that it had to be Xie Shaojun, in a way that was both obvious and relentless.

The confession was merely the natural outcome of that progression.

The year Chi Yi met Xie Shaojun, she was even busier than she was now.

Back then, Haimi wasn’t the scale it was today just a fledgling venture. But when Chi Yi committed to something, she never wavered. It might have been ingrained in her nature to see things through from start to finish, so there was never any thought of giving up halfway.

Just as Xie Qingcheng had described, Chi Yi didn’t have much time for romance. In the early stages of her entrepreneurial journey, she was constantly on the move, traveling far and wide.

No one’s success comes from mere talk, some overpowered cheat code, or innate genius that effortlessly makes them a standout in their field.

Chi Yi was no exception. So her dedication and hard work things ordinary people couldn’t fathom, were dismissed by relatives and friends as just natural talent, something to be expected.

For a year and a half after meeting Chi Yi, Xie Shaojun hadn’t fully grasped just how busy she was.

It wasn’t until Xie Shaojun’s freshman year, when Chi Yi’s company underwent a transformation, shifting its core business from blockchain and new media data to domestic semiconductor R&D that it became clear.

That half-year, Xie Shaojun only saw Chi Yi about three times.

Twice, Chi Yi had to drag her home from bars.

The last time was in June.

Xie Shaojun had been busy too at the time, helping out at Damei Studio.

For a while, she took on a heavy load of orders, attending classes during the day and staying up late tattooing clients at night. In May, as spring gave way to summer, the weather was unpredictable.

Add exhaustion to the mix, and Xie Shaojun caught a cold. At first, she didn’t think much of it.

She haphazardly mixed Chinese and Western medicine, taking them at irregular intervals. Dragging it out while still pushing through late-night work sessions, even her robust health eventually gave out.

The week her condition worsened into pneumonia, Xie Guangqi and Feng Cinian were abroad celebrating Jian Qing’s birthday.

Damei wanted to stay by her bedside to take care of her, but Xie Shaojun shooed her back to the shop to mind the store.

In the next bed over was a couple same-sex partners.

The sick butch was an art student from a nearby university named Xiao Jia, short haired, free-spirited, and tomboyish in demeanor. The femme was a doctor steady, mature, gentle in temperament, with a soft voice and even softer cheeks.

During the day, while the doctor sister was at work, Xiao Jia would chat with Xie Shaojun.

Xie Shaojun wasn’t as cool as others made her out to be. She was just putting on a tough exterior, a street-smart girl with a warm heart. But at least she could hold a conversation.

“You’re one too, right?”

Xie Shaojun asked, “One what?”

“Don’t play dumb. I’m good at reading people.” Xiao Jia eyed her skeptically. “No way someone who looks like you doesn’t have a partner?”

Xie Shaojun thought for a moment, unsure how to answer.

That night, before heading to Dr. Chen’s on-duty room, Xiao Jia said, “Just give me a straight answer, do you have someone or not? I’ve got a little sister who saw your photo today and really likes you.”

Xie Shaojun tapped open the chat history with Chi Yi and noticed that Chi Yi’s last message had been sent at three in the morning.

Chi Yi had written: “Goodnight.”

Xie Shaojun hadn’t replied. Mainly because, during that period, Chi Yi had suddenly grown distant, they hadn’t seen each other much in half a year.

Before that, Chi Yi had acted as though she really liked Xie Shaojun.

When Xie Shaojun was kicked out of the house by Xie Guangqi, Chi Yi had been the first to show up, staying with her for an entire day, her eyes brimming with concern.

Xie Shaojun struggled with her studies, so Chi Yi tutored her, patiently marking study progress for someone who was academically hopeless.

Chi Yi had done so many things that moved Xie Shaojun, things that didn’t feel like one-sided delusions. But Chi Yi had never taken things further.

During those six months, whenever Xie Shaojun asked Chi Yi out for a meal, Chi Yi was abroad. When she invited her to a movie, Chi Yi said she was in a meeting.

When Xie Shaojun asked where she was, Chi Yi replied that she was on the other side of the Atlantic.

How was this even a relationship?

And then there was the system task looming over her.

For Xie Shaojun, taking a single step forward required a hundred times more courage than it did for most people.

That night, Xie Shaojun really wanted to say something to Chi Yi. But late at night, she came down with a fever. All she managed was a hoarse voice message: “A friend said they want to set me up with someone.”

She had no idea if Chi Yi ever replied. After the fever spiked, the nurse came in late at night to hook her up to an IV.

When she woke up the next day, Xiao Jia was looking at her with a strange expression.

Xie Shaojun’s head was still foggy from the fever. She realized her pajamas had been changed, and the watch Chi Yi had given her was missing. Her emotions teetered on the edge.

She turned to Xiao Jia and asked, “Where’s my watch?”

Xiao Jia said, “I was sleeping in the duty room last night. Maybe you”

Dr. Chen wheeled in a chair, interrupting their conversation.

Xiao Jia needed to go for a check-up. Dr. Chen asked her, “Can you get out of bed on your own?”

Right in front of Xie Shaojun, Xiao Jia didn’t seem the least bit embarrassed. She crooked a finger at her sister and said, “No. Carry me.”

Dr. Chen shot Xie Shaojun an apologetic glance.

Xie Shaojun, still searching for her watch, waved them off.

So she watched as Dr. Chen strode confidently over to Xiao Jia, helped her up, and with a playful glint in her eyes, teased, “Call me ‘sister’ first.”

“Or kiss me.”

The two of them flirted shamelessly as the hospital room door opened and closed.

Xie Shaojun sat on the bed for about a minute, feeling like she was being melodramatic for no reason. She called Chi Yi.

She asked, “Where are you?”

Chi Yi said, “In a meeting.”

Xie Shaojun let out an “Oh.” She didn’t mention that the watch Chi Yi had given her was missing, nor did she say that someone had sneaked into her room last night and changed her pajamas.

But the truth was, she really wanted to say all of it, to curse the thief and the person who had touched her. Yet she felt that voicing these things would make her seem immature. She had lived longer than Chi Yi, yet here she was, wallowing like Xiao Jia. Besides, lost items should be reported to the police, why bother Chi Yi with it?

“Never mind, then. Go ahead with your work.” The fever hadn’t fully broken, and Xie Shaojun politely ended the call, her eyelids drooping as exhaustion pulled her back toward sleep.

“I’m going to sleep,” Xie Shaojun murmured weakly, urging Chi Yi to hang up.

“Sleep. I won’t hang up. I want to stay with you.”

Chi Yi’s tone was calm, but her words, “I want to be by your side,” eased Xie Shaojun’s crumbling emotions a little.

Xie Shaojun didn’t hang up the phone, and neither did Chi Yi, so the call remained connected.

Through the line, Xie Shaojun could hear Chi Yi in a meeting, an entirely English conference filled with lengthy, incomprehensible jargon.

Listening to it, Xie Shaojun eventually drifted off to sleep.

By the time she woke up again, it was already dark outside. The call had lasted over six hours.

Xiao Jia sat on the hospital bed and said to Xie Shaojun, “You should really hire a caregiver.”

“Why?”

“While you were asleep, the nurse said no one even noticed when the IV ran out and blood started flowing back.”

Xie Shaojun looked at her perfectly fine hand and asked, “Then how did the nurse get in?”

“Your girlfriend called the hospital director,” Xiao Jia said with a grin. “She didn’t tell you, did she? Last night, she came to see you at four in the morning. When you didn’t wake up by six, she left. But while she was here, she changed you into pajamas and took off your watch, saying it’d be uncomfortable to sleep with it on.”

Xie Shaojun called Chi Yi, who answered almost immediately.

“Where are you now?” Xie Shaojun asked.

“Melbourne,” Chi Yi replied.

For research and development purposes, Chi Yi was touring factory sites in Melbourne, scheduled for a two-month inspection and investigation.

“Xie Shaojun,” Chi Yi called her name.

“I’ve been really busy lately. Can you wait for me a little longer?”

Xie Shaojun hadn’t checked how long a flight from Melbourne to Nancheng took.

At four in the morning, she had no idea how Chi Yi had managed to make it there.

But in that moment, Xie Shaojun felt she didn’t need to ask for details anymore. She didn’t need Chi Yi to come to her, she could fly to her instead.

After recovering and settling her affairs, Xie Shaojun went to Melbourne.

That day, she wore no heavy makeup, dressed simply, hands in her pockets as she stood outside the factory gates and called Chi Yi.

“Are you free, Chi Yi?” Xie Shaojun asked as soon as the call connected.

Chi Yi seemed hesitant. She was always busy, always apologizing, always saying, “Wait for me a little longer.” So this time, she fell silent.

From a distance, Xie Shaojun saw her frown, rooted in place as if struggling with an unsolvable dilemma.

“Turn your head to the forty-five-degree direction,” Xie Shaojun instructed.

So Chi Yi turned in surprise, her icy gaze softening the moment she saw Xie Shaojun, as if instantly warmed by sunlight, then deepening into something obscure, brimming with overwhelming emotion.

Her voice trembled slightly as she called Xie Shaojun’s name.

“Xie Shaojun.”

“Yeah.” Still holding the phone, Xie Shaojun walked through the crowd, took Chi Yi’s hand, and asked, “Can you spare the rest of the day for me?”

Chi Yi took a deep breath, steadied herself, and nodded. “Okay.”

So Xie Shaojun clasped Chi Yi’s hand and ran with her out of the crowd.

The factory grounds were vast, lined with lush plane trees on both sides. They ran a long distance before stopping, Chi Yi bending over to catch her breath.

“No one’s chasing us,” she said. “Why run?”

Their eyes met. Xie Shaojun stared at Chi Yi’s slightly trembling lips and, for some reason, really wanted to kiss her. So she tugged Chi Yi’s hand.

Chi Yi turned her face slightly, and Xie Shaojun closed the distance between them, lowering her gaze to capture Chi Yi’s lips.

Chi Yi didn’t even know how to breathe during a kiss, standing stiffly in place before finally, after a long pause, wrapping her arms around Xie Shaojun’s waist.

Xie Shaoyun was a little worried she might have scared her, and felt somewhat embarrassed after the kiss herself.

The air was silent for a full ten seconds.

Chi Yi didn’t say a word. Xie Shaoyun began to feel uncertain, staring at Chi Yi, who remained motionless as if in deep shock.

Hesitantly, she said, “It’s my first time liking someone this much.”

Xie Shaoyun looked at Chi Yi, her voice softening as she spoke, “I couldn’t hold back… Did I scare you?”

After a moment, Chi Yi finally reacted. She took off her glasses and walked over to Xie Shaoyun.

Meeting her gaze directly, her eyes held a sorrow and strangeness Xie Shaoyun couldn’t quite decipher.

Xie Shaoyun was nervous too, unsure if she had misread the situation. She wanted to say something to ease the awkwardness.

Then she heard Chi Yi ask, puzzled, “Shouldn’t kissing involve tongues?”

“Kiss me again,” Chi Yi said.

Xie Shaoyun looked up.

Chi Yi’s tone wasn’t particularly intense, but her eyes darted away, her lips red and soft, curling slightly as if she were somewhat happy.

Honestly, writing this was sweet but also made me cry. I really like Chi Yi because carving out time for her is harder than for others, making her romance all the more precious. Out of all the characters I’ve written, she’s my favorite.