After My Death, Everyone Repented (Transmigration) - Chapter 53

That night, at three in the morning, Xie Shaojun woke up and drank some porridge reheated by the caregiver.

Having slept too much during the day, she wasn’t particularly tired. After dismissing the caregiver, Xie Shaojun glanced at her phone and saw two unread messages.

The first one was from Chi Yi at 7:35 p.m. the previous evening, saying she had just been in a meeting and had seen the text. She asked Xie Shaojun, “How are you feeling? Can you take a call?”

Then, after a long gap of three hours, at midnight, Chi Yi sent another message: “Just finished entertaining clients. Drank a very small glass of red wine, but I’m dizzy. After rereading the texts you sent tonight, my heart is racing. I’m sick I’m ascending to heaven.”

Xie Shaojun couldn’t help but laugh. Unable to resist, she replied, “Oh. In your condition, you should probably see a doctor.”

Not expecting Chi Yi to see the message, Xie Shaojun locked her screen after replying.

She had just woken up, and though she’d slept a lot, her mental state was decent. The only issue was her weak fingers typing out texts was a struggle.

Unexpectedly, Chi Yi called the very next second.

Xie Shaojun was momentarily stunned. Still a patient, she wasn’t quick to answer. Slowly, she adjusted the phone and laboriously swiped to accept the call. After all that, she even took a couple of weak breaths, like Lin Daiyu, before finally picking up.

As a result, there was a pause of a few seconds after the call connected.

Chi Yi’s end was quiet, though the sound of a mechanical keyboard could be heard the moment the call went through, she must have been working.

But once Xie Shaojun answered, the typing stopped.

“Does it still hurt?” Chi Yi asked softly.

“The caregiver works for you didn’t you ask her?”

Given that Chi Yi even knew whether she was in pain, Xie Shaojun suspected Chi Yi might have bought out the entire hospital to keep tabs on her.

But Xie Shaojun wasn’t wrong. In the next moment, Chi Yi openly admitted to her thinly veiled attempt at “keeping her distance.”

“Want to know how I found out the moment you woke up?”

Xie Shaojun replied irritably, “No.”

“But if this gets out, you’ll lose a banker friend, a psychologist, and possibly a business partner.”

Chi Yi fell silent for several seconds on the other end. Then, for some reason, she laughed and called Xie Shaojun’s name.

“Can we negotiate? Keep this secret for me?” Chi Yi said. “Now that you’ve got leverage over me, I’ll consider agreeing to any condition you propose in the future.”

Xie Shaojun lifted her eyelids slightly and ruthlessly exposed her: “Your manipulation tactics are a bit clumsy.”

“Fine.” Chi Yi immediately deflated, explaining that she’d learned the line from a relationship advice show. She wasn’t very good at using it yet and wasn’t quite skilled.

After a brief silence, seeing that Xie Shaojun wasn’t responding, Chi Yi straightened up.

“I didn’t install surveillance. I just linked my phone to your hospital monitor data.” Because after Xie Shaojun fell into a coma, the only signs that she was still alive were the vital signs displayed on those machines.

“There was no other way,” Chi Yi said flatly.

Xie Shaojun could tell she really didn’t want to bring up the night the sulfuric acid dissolved the doll, so she replied, “The heart monitor was removed tonight.”

“The caregiver was hired temporarily by the Xie family, she can be replaced anytime.”

“If you’re relying on these desperate measures to ‘keep your distance’ from me, it’s not going to work.”

Xie Shaojun’s voice was slow and languid, heavy with exhaustion. The pauses between her words were filled with labored breaths that somehow managed to tease the ears.

Chi Yi grew quiet, lowering her own breathing by a degree.

Because this was so unlike her, Xie Shaojun couldn’t help but ask, “Are you even listening?”

Chi Yi didn’t respond. Xie Shaojun waited patiently for a while, but when no answer came, she assumed Chi Yi might be handling work or had gotten caught up in something else. She prepared to hang up.

But after a moment’s hesitation, Xie Shaojun didn’t immediately end the call. Instead, she chided, “Next time, if you’re busy, just say so. Leaving me hanging like this, I’d definitely get angry.”

Chi Yi froze. Her eyelashes fluttered rapidly in the air.

“Xie Shaojun,” Chi Yi called her name, emotions surging uncontrollably, making her voice unusually hoarse. She repeated it twice.

“Hmm?” Xie Shaojun responded, puzzled.

“No,” Chi Yi said.

Xie Shaojun didn’t understand, so she stayed silent.

But she comprehended Chi Yi’s next words clearly: “You can call me anytime you want. I can’t promise I’ll answer every time, but whenever you call, I’ll be free, I’ll respond immediately.”

“Just now, I wasn’t silent because I was busy. I was just thinking…”

Xie Shaojun asked, “Thinking about what?”

She heard Chi Yi whisper softly, “About you.”

“I want to see you right now. To confirm that the you tonight is real. And Last night, you texted that you once loved me. If I try to bring back the you from back then… is it still not too late?”

There was no resentment in Chi Yi’s tone, nor was it overly emotional. It was as if she had simply laid bare her heart, revealing the last remnants of her true feelings to Xie Shaojun, a sincerity that had never changed from the very beginning.

Xie Shaojun didn’t answer immediately, and Chi Yi didn’t press her.

Just as the call was about to automatically disconnect, Chi Yi, experienced, ended it herself and redialed. When the call reconnected, Xie Shaojun tilted her head to gaze at the faint moonlight seeping through the window pale and ghostly. The night’s glow cast a chilling hue over everything in the hospital room, but because the person on the other end of the line was quietly waiting for her answer, Xie Shaojun suddenly felt there was nothing to fear.

Holding the phone, she stared at the moonlight for a long time. Amid the faint rustling of wind on Chi Yi’s end, she finally agreed to Chi Yi’s request.

“Then you’ll have to try,” she said.

“And so will I.”

Xie Shaojun thought they had reached an understanding, because when she said they could try, Chi Yi seemed both surprised and delighted, suddenly becoming talkative to the point of lulling Xie Shaojun to sleep. Now, she really was about to drift off.

Chi Yi made a verbal agreement with Xie Shaojun: by the time she finished handling her current tasks and before her flight landed, Xie Shaojun was to be discharged from the hospital in good health.

Xie Shaojun agreed.

The call cut out briefly due to poor signal. Xie Shaojun tossed her phone onto the bedside table, closed her eyes, and prepared to sleep.

Then, suddenly, she heard footsteps.

At 4:30 in the morning, just as Xie Shaojun had turned off her phone and was about to fall back asleep, she realized a stranger had entered her hospital room. The figure stood silently by her bed, not making a sound, simply staring at her for a long time. The cold of late autumn clung to their coat.

Xie Shaojun slowly opened her eyes to find Chi Yi, who had just hung up the phone, standing before her. She wasn’t sure how Chi Yi had gotten here.

Her hair wasn’t tied up, cascading loosely down her back. Likely due to frequent styling, her thick, jet-black hair remained smooth and untangled despite the wind, falling naturally with a soft, flowing curve.

Beneath her dark hair, she wore a thin white trench coat. The legs of her pants were damp, and her not-too-high heels bore traces of dried mud, unevenly scattered across them.

At the sight of Chi Yi, Xie Shaojun felt surprise but no joy, wondering if she was dreaming. She asked in confusion, “Did it rain tonight?”

Her gaze instinctively flicked to the window outside, the sky was clear, the moon hung high, and there was no rain.

“It rained heavily in Tokyo. I’m not sure about Nan City, I didn’t pay attention.” Chi Yi pulled a chair to the bedside and leaned in close, her face hovering near Xie Shaojun’s pillow. Her lashes lowered as their eyes met, and she asked nervously, “Was it really you on the phone just now, Xie Shaojun?”

Chi Yi had brought nothing with her, not even a bag. She was covered in the traces of her journey, her emotions visibly unsteady.

She stood there like a startled bird, seemingly bursting with words yet unsure how to express her urgency to see Xie Shaojun.

Her mind blank, she reached out tentatively, her fingers brushing Xie Shaojun’s hand. She traced lightly up Xie Shaojun’s fingers, as if confirming whether the person before her was real.

Chi Yi’s hands were icy, trembling with nervous tension. Xie Shaojun lifted her eyelids and shot her a reproachful look, but she couldn’t bring herself to push those cold fingers away.

Instead, she grasped Chi Yi’s hand and tucked it under the blanket.

Then, raising her eyes, she asked, “Did you finish your work in Japan?”

Chi Yi shook her head honestly. “No. I have a meeting in Osaka at ten tomorrow morning. After that, at three in the afternoon, I’m flying from Japan to France. A partner suddenly backed out, and the overseas market is unstable. I have a month to mitigate the damage from the negative fallout.”

“Then why did you rush back from Japan in the middle of the night? What were you thinking?”

Xie Shaojun glared at her. Chi Yi lowered her head without answering, reaching again for Xie Shaojun’s hand, only to have it avoided.

Though disapproval lingered in Xie Shaojun’s gaze, her tone softened as Chi Yi’s head drooped. “Don’t do this again,” she said, finally offering her hand.

Chi Yi’s heart leaped at the gesture. Staring into Xie Shaojun’s eyes, she insisted she wasn’t tired, she just couldn’t sleep without seeing her, needing this reunion to ease her mind.

“You still haven’t answered my question,” she pressed. “Was it you who said those things tonight?”

Xie Shaojun laughed, feeling a mix of exasperation, amusement, and heartache. Too weak to speak much, she motioned for Chi Yi to lean closer.

Obliging without hesitation, Chi Yi bent down. Xie Shaojun caught her cold lips in a brief kiss, then pulled away, breathless. “Chi Yi,” she murmured, “you’re so annoying.”

“But what I said was true.”

It was too late to leave. Chi Yi claimed she’d sleep in the chair by Xie Shaojun’s hospital bed. True to her word, she sat there, but her hair spilled over as she leaned against the bed, watching Xie Shaojun’s face with forced alertness, pretending she wasn’t the least bit tired.

Xie Shaojun felt helpless, but fortunately, this was a VIP ward. After waking from her coma, she had no major issues, and the array of medical equipment attached to her had been removed at her request.

The hospital bed was relatively spacious. Xie Shaojun was slender, and Chi Yi was also quite slim.

After sitting for a few minutes, Xie Shaojun relented and asked her, “What will it take for you to close your eyes and sleep?”

Chi Yi stared at the empty space on Xie Shaojun’s bed, her desire to sleep beside her written plainly on her face. Xie Shaojun studied her for three seconds, then, after rolling over twice in succession, agreed to Chi Yi’s request to share the bed.

The bed wasn’t particularly large. After a month in a coma, Xie Shaojun had become skin and bones, frail to the extreme.

If Chi Yi chose to take advantage of the situation now, Xie Shaojun wouldn’t have been able to resist. So when Chi Yi wrapped her arms around Xie Shaojun from behind, her lips pressing like poison against the nape of her neck, Xie Shaojun deeply regretted inviting her onto the bed.

But thankfully, Chi Yi held her with polite restraint, promising not to burrow into Xie Shaojun’s embrace and to sleep quietly and soon, she was sound asleep, drifting off even faster than Xie Shaojun.

When they woke again, only two hours had passed. As the nurse drew the curtains open, Chi Yi reluctantly opened her eyes, then silenced the other woman’s startled gasp with a single glance before sending her away.

Squinting at her phone, Chi Yi saw that Secretary Wang had already sent her schedule, but she didn’t feel like moving. She wanted to stay like this forever.

Perhaps their bodies had their own ideas while asleep. Unconsciously, they shifted into their usual sleeping positions, and by the time they woke, they were facing each other, Chi Yi nestled in Xie Shaojun’s arms. Xie Shaojun’s warm breath fanned against Chi Yi’s neck, sensation gradually returning to every part of her body.

The moment her consciousness cleared, the usual sharp, aching emptiness she felt upon waking was no longer there instead, it had blurred and faded. Chi Yi lifted a hand to trace Xie Shaojun’s cheek, her eyes, the delicate shadow cast by the bridge of her nose.

For the first time in two years, she woke feeling truly content and happy.

In the laws of nature, once an island splits apart, it can never fully merge back into whole flesh and blood. Chi Yi had thought she was that island but Xie Shaojun, generous as ever, had turned back to find her.

Chi Yi thought to herself: This world had once been so hostile to her, but now, because she was holding Xie Shaojun again, all that pain and longing no longer mattered. Because she had finally glimpsed the light.

When the nurse came for rounds, the sound of the door turning roused Xie Shaojun. She blinked, frowning as she took a moment to adjust. Chi Yi was right there, close, their bodies still entwined.

The nurse stood at the doorway, about to enter, but Chi Yi met her gaze without flinching and instructed her to come back later.

Only after the nurse awkwardly retreated did Xie Shaojun notice the shift in their positions. She looked at Chi Yi, who only tightened her embrace.

With a weary hand, Xie Shaojun patted Chi Yi’s back lightly and said, “Alright, let me go now.”

Chi Yi refused, pressing closer to Xie Shaojun’s ear as if desperate for affection. “Can I take you with me to Japan?”

“Unless you plan to carry me there on a stretcher to lie around like a corpse,” Xie Shaojun replied. Chi Yi leaned in, eyes fixed on Xie Shaojun’s lips, and murmured, “Can I kiss you?”

Xie Shaojun didn’t know how to respond to this. Chi Yi seemed eager to define their relationship, wanting to prove something through physical contact nervous yet restrained.

Xie Shaojun’s fingers rested on Chi Yi’s smooth back as she leaned in, her hair cascading down. Her gaze grew heated, but she still sought Xie Shaojun’s permission.

“I’m a patient right now,” Xie Shaojun said with drooping eyes. “I don’t have the strength. If you want to kiss me, you’ll have to do it yourself.”

They were pressed close. Chi Yi’s lips were soft and cool as they brushed against Xie Shaojun’s, then slowly traced them, as if savoring the wrapper of a candy agonizingly slow.

Xie Shaojun had initially thought that if they got back together, she’d need to be more patient with Chi Yi. After all, Chi Yi often came across as aloof and domineering, so Xie Shaojun assumed she might have her own way of doing things.

She was willing to indulge Chi Yi, if Chi Yi wanted to kiss, then let her. But here Chi Yi was, calling others “puppy” while nipping at Xie Shaojun’s lips like a dog herself, slow and deliberate, her eyes reddening at the corners, soft and pleading.

Xie Shaojun endured it. Chi Yi kissed her several times before finally pulling back slightly, lips a little sore, and asked in confusion, “This isn’t how you usually kiss me.”

Xie Shaojun scoffed.

She thought, I shouldn’t have expected anything from Chi Yi.

Their eyes met. Though Xie Shaojun didn’t have much energy left, Chi Yi’s lips lingered near hers, red and soft, her mouth downturned in dissatisfaction, brows furrowed at the subpar kissing experience.

Xie Shaojun smoothed the crease between Chi Yi’s brows, gently pulled her closer, and parted her lips.

Chi Yi froze for a moment, then quickly caught on, her eyes brightening as she looked at Xie Shaojun.

Xie Shaojun had nothing to say, she simply kissed Chi Yi deeply, the kind of kiss shared after a long separation. It started as comfort but soon became something else. It didn’t last long, though; Xie Shaojun was exhausted, and Chi Yi was easily satisfied.

When it ended, Chi Yi asked, pleased, “Xie Shaojun, what are we now?”

“No idea.” The smile on Chi Yi’s lips froze. Xie Shaojun kept a straight face and asked, “Did you plan this? Kiss me a few times, sleep together, and then we’re official?”

Without hesitation, Chi Yi denied it. “No.”

Xie Shaojun didn’t quite believe her and shot her a sidelong glance. Chi Yi averted her gaze before awkwardly changing the subject. “I had a dream last night.”

The attempt to lighten the mood was too obvious, she had clearly struggled to come up with such a clumsy line.

Xie Shaojun’s puppy-like eyes curved downward, but she didn’t press the issue. Instead, she encouraged her. “It’s fine if you did.”

Chi Yi’s surprised gaze snapped back to her. Xie Shaojun also felt a little embarrassed and casually continued the previous topic. “Was it a good dream?”

Chi Yi didn’t deny it. She looked at Xie Shaojun and inexplicably smiled. “I think… I can finally dream now.”

When Secretary Wang called, Chi Yi was reluctant to answer. The phone vibrated on the nightstand several times before Xie Shaojun reminded her, and only then did she pick up.

She had a flight to catch in thirty minutes. After briskly outlining her work schedule for the day, she hung up, it was time to leave.

She dressed slowly, dragging out the act of tying up her hair, but two minutes later, she still had to go.

Next, she needed to appear at the top floor of a landmark building in Osaka to hold a grand meeting to salvage the precarious overseas market. For the next month, she wouldn’t be able to see Xie Shaojun.

Chi Yi opened her mouth, wanting to explain a few words to Xie Shaojun, only to find that Xie Shaojun had sat up at some point and was now looking up at her.

Then she stretched out her arms and said to Chi Yi, “Give me a hug.”

Chi Yi’s lips curved slightly at this gesture. The bright morning sunlight streamed in as they embraced.

Chi Yi said, “Xie Shaojun.”

“Hmm?”

“Is it always you who has to wait for me?”

Xie Shaojun turned her face slightly, their gazes meeting. Chi Yi’s expression grew a little troubled. She really wanted to stay with Xie Shaojun all the time, not always making her wait. But Chi Yi was often flying all over the place, she was busy, as if, at times, busyness was an inseparable part of her existence.

Maybe Xie Shaojun couldn’t adapt to this kind of life, which was why she wanted to break up. Chi Yi had thought about changing, but apart from promising to answer Xie Shaojun’s calls and communicate more, she couldn’t make any bigger compromises for now.

Chi Yi moved her lips, wanting to explain.

Xie Shaojun listened seriously for a moment but suddenly didn’t want to press Chi Yi anymore. Because Xie Shaojun thought about how, when she went out to gather inspiration, she’d also be away for long periods.

And Chi Yi had given all the time she could spare outside of work… to Xie Shaojun.

If she demanded all of Chi Yi’s time, that would be unreasonable unrealistic.

“I won’t always wait for you,” Xie Shaojun said hesitantly.

The answer immediately made Chi Yi’s expression turn grave.

Without giving her a chance to explain, Xie Shaojun mustered her courage and pressed a kiss against Chi Yi’s cool cheek.

Chi Yi looked up and heard Xie Shaojun say with a smile, “Next time, once I’m better, I can go on business trips with you and gather inspiration along the way.”

The morning sunlight, carrying the scent of grass and earth, broke through from all directions.

For a moment, Chi Yi’s mind went blank. She stared intently at Xie Shaojun and noticed that this time, Xie Shaojun’s eyes were bright, curving slightly as they met hers, patiently waiting for her to understand and respond.

Though Xie Shaojun’s body was still weak, her tone remained soothing, kindly accommodating all of Chi Yi’s shortcomings.

Chi Yi stayed silent for a long time until the insistent phone call rang again.

In a somewhat dazed manner, Chi Yi said to Xie Shaojun, “Okay.” Then, “I can go gathering inspiration with you too.” And finally, “Xie Shaojun, I love you.”

“I love you so much.”