After My Death, Everyone Repented (Transmigration) - Chapter 55.1

On the night before being discharged from the hospital, Xie Shaoyun received a text message.

It was from Jian Qing.

“I want to meet you.”

Jian Qing said, “I know it’s you.”

Xie Shaoyun curled her lips into a smile but didn’t respond.

Not long after, several MMS messages came through evidence Jian Qing had dug up, convinced that Xie Shaoyun must indeed be Xie Shaoyun.

Xie Shaoyun didn’t scrutinize them closely, but she no longer felt the need to keep hiding.

In fact, after waking up from this coma, Xie Guangqi had also sent her so-called “evidence” nothing more than handwritten drafts of irises, Xie Shaoyun’s mannerisms, and the line, “No parent would fail to recognize their own child.”

It sounded utterly ridiculous, but it was then that Xie Shaoyun truly let go of these people. The accounts to be settled, the truths to be uncovered she intended to know them all.

The next day, after completing the discharge procedures, Xie Zangxing stood blocking the doorway.

She intercepted Xie Shaoyun, who was preparing to leave alone, and asked, “Is it right not to come home? Grandma’s been waiting at home for her granddaughter.”

This was indeed inconsiderate of Xie Shaoyun. She had already stayed in Nan City for nearly two months.

Though she’d been in the hospital, with the four members of the Xie family taking turns to care for her, Grandma was still waiting at the old house. Whether for duty or personal reasons, she couldn’t linger in Nan City any longer.

Xie Shaoyun told Xie Zangxing she had some matters to attend to.

“I’ll be back by tomorrow morning at the latest.”

She walked to the door, handing the handle of her freshly packed suitcase to Xie Zangxing.

“Fine, take me with you,” Xie Zangxing raised an eyebrow, inexplicably stubborn, refusing to back down no matter what was said.

Xie Shaoyun leaned against the wall and looked up at her.

Her eyes widened, still as striking as ever, but there was no trace of allure in them now. Meeting Xie Zangxing’s gaze head-on, her expression was unyielding, making it clear this wasn’t up for discussion.

“Second Sister, I really have some private matters to handle.” Xie Zangxing didn’t relent, so Xie Shaoyun glanced down at her vibrating phone, where the caller’s name was displayed. With a faint smirk, she reminded her, “Answer it.”

Xie Zangxing, still in full surveillance mode, picked up the call and sweetly greeted the person on the other end with, “Wife.”

She tried to block Xie Shaoyun with her foot, but Xie Shaoyun dodged it effortlessly.

Pushing the door open, Xie Shaoyun turned back to the pursuing Xie Zangxing and said, “You’re really careless. ‘Da Mei’ isn’t the ‘Da’ from ‘Daji’, it’s the ‘Da’ meaning ‘unhindered access.’ Pay attention. After knowing her for so long, you still got her name wrong?”

Xie Shaoyun’s words were like tossing a grenade, leaving Xie Zangxing frozen in place. By the time she snapped out of it, that cunning troublemaker Xie Shaoyun had already made a swift escape.

Unable to find her anywhere and with the moment lost, Xie Zangxing had no choice but to focus on herself, hastily explaining to Da Mei.

“My little sister was joking with me. Don’t take her seriously.”

“How could I possibly mistake your name?”

Xie Zangxing tried to reassure Da Mei, but there was no response on the other end of the line.

“Are you listening?”

“She wasn’t wrong. The ‘Da’ in Da Mei is the one meaning ‘unhindered access.’ It’s a rare surname, often misread. There’s only one person in this world who’d pronounce my name correctly”

Da Mei’s voice faltered. “But that’s just how she always talked never serious. I should’ve realized sooner,” Her choked sobs were unmistakable.

Realizing who her wife was thinking of, Xie Zangxing opened her mouth, feeling she needed to say something.

“Sorry, Da Mei,” Xie Zangxing said. “My sister doesn’t understand the life-and-death bond between you and your siblings. She didn’t mean anything by it”

“She knows,” Da Mei interrupted firmly, not giving Xie Zangxing the chance to deny that “Xie Shaojun” wasn’t Xie Shaojun. Her voice trembled as she called Xie Zangxing’s name: “Xie Zangxing, where are you now? I’ll come find you.”

Without Xie Zangxing to stop her, Xie Shaojun left the hospital without trouble. Someone was waiting for her at the entrance.

As Xie Shaojun approached, the person stepped forward to greet her.

She called Xie Shaojun’s name, and Xie Shaojun glanced at her without showing any surprise.

Jian Qing’s dimples were deep, her round eyes bright, and her shoulder-length hair neatly styled, tucked behind her ears. Gone was the heavy makeup from the last banquet; now, with her bangs down, she looked pure and harmless. “I didn’t think you’d come out to see me,” she said.

Her appearance was deliberate, meant to show Xie Shaojun that this was the Jian Qing who had adored her two years ago, not the ruthless Director Jian.

“Then tell me why I’d avoid you,” Xie Shaojun retorted, tossing the question back at her.

Jian Qing smiled in response, standing under the shade of a tree where no one would recognize her as the cold-blooded madwoman who treated lives like weeds.

She gazed at Xie Shaojun with greedy eyes, as if beholding a long-lost masterpiece. She moved closer, attempting to breach the safe distance between them, but Xie Shaojun’s bodyguard blocked her. Jian Qing’s smile stiffened, her brow furrowing.

Swallowing her longing, she whispered to Xie Shaojun, “I won’t do anything to you.”

Xie Shaojun lifted her eyelids lazily, agreeing. “Of course you can’t. But I don’t like you don’t you know that?”

Jian Qing didn’t respond. Unable to touch Xie Shaojun’s hair or face, she could only trace her features with her eyes. Her voice was soft, her demeanor submissive, but her words brooked no refusal: “I came to take you home. Auntie made soup for you chicken soup to nourish you.”

Xie Shaojun smirked and motioned for the bodyguard to step aside. She walked up to Jian Qing, though going home was out of the question.

They found a nearby café and sat down.

Jian Qing placed their order, and soon a server brought over a few desserts and a glass of milk.

Xie Shaojun said nothing but didn’t refuse conversation either, so Jian Qing relaxed. She asked, “Can I still call you ‘sister’?”

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-six,” Jian Qing replied.

Xie Shaojun hummed, uncrossing her legs. “Birth month?”

“March.”

“I was born in October. As long as Sister Jian doesn’t mind, you can even call me ‘Mom.'”

Jian Qing didn’t take offense. Instead, she turned her face slightly, her eyes brimming with intense emotion eagerness, longing.

“Xie Shaojun,” she said, “was it you inside the doll that night?”

Xie Shaojun met her gaze impassively. “Yes.”

“This is the second time,” Xie Shaojun said.

“What?”

“All these years, you’ve lived without restraint, encroaching on others’ survival. Have you ever killed anyone?”

Jian Qing’s expression shifted instantly, her gaze turning damp and sticky as she stared at Xie Shaojun.

She seemed to genuinely consider the question before shaking her head. “I’m a law-abiding citizen.”

“But you killed me,” Xie Shaojun said, her eyes lingering on Jian Qing’s abdomen. “Twice now. Isn’t that right?”

Jian Qing opened her mouth, eager to defend herself.

“They were the ones at fault. I would never wish for your death.”

“I only want to like you, to love you.”

She looked up at Xie Shaojun, who was also gazing at her, lips curving slightly.

Those lips were strikingly vivid, seductive with a faint arch, the amusement in her eyes dissipating into undisguised loathing. Yet they ensnared Jian Qing’s gaze as she repeated her words: “Like me? Pursue me?”

“You think you’re worthy?” The teacup overturned with a sharp clatter.

Xie Shaojun stood up. Jian Qing reached out to stop her, so Xie Shaojun’s gaze drifted downward, lingering at Jian Qing’s waist.

She sneered mockingly: “The evidence of your crime has always been inside you. Two years, and still no progress you couldn’t even protect the doll I gave you.”

“Once, twice, but never a third time.” Xie Shaojun lowered her eyes, looking at Jian Qing with regret and cruelty: “A murderer says she loves me. Jian Qing, guess, what do you think you are in my eyes?”

Every expression froze on Jian Qing’s face, her throat dry, unable to utter a single word.

Once again, she thought of that day in the operating room, Xie Shaojun’s head slipping off the gurney, her bright, silent smile calling her useless. No matter who brought it up, Jian Qing’s expression would darken, but those words had never truly wounded her.

Until now, when Xie Shaojun stood before her once more, stating the fact of her murder in an eerily calm tone. The veins in Jian Qing’s neck bulged, her fingers clenched so tightly that blood seeped from between them.

The gentle facade on her face vanished completely, replaced by ugly panic as she struggled to defend herself. But Xie Shaojun pointed out that any defense was futile, because the proof was inside Jian Qing’s body.

The autumn sunlight pierced Jian Qing’s vision, stabbing into her from all directions. Suddenly, she collapsed into her chair, letting out a muffled, heavy sob.

Xie Shaojun chuckled lightly and walked out of the café.

Through the glass window, Jian Qing watched the retreating figure she so desperately longed for so dazzling, her silhouette haloed in light, piercing Jian Qing’s fervent heart like ten thousand arrows.

At that moment, Jian Qing admitted it no matter what methods she used, she would never be able to earn the love Xie Shaojun could give.

The proof was that kidney. Xie Shaojun had died because of her. Carrying it meant Jian Qing would wear the shackles of a prisoner for the rest of her life.

Stepping out of the café, the sunlight was just right. It had been a long time since Xie Shaojun had basked in the sun. She decided to take a walk, dismissing her bodyguards.

She crossed a street, walking aimlessly for a while. She was familiar with the alleys of Nan City, so she didn’t bother checking the signs. Her skin warmed slightly under the sun’s touch.

After a while, she grew hungry.

To her left was a convenience store. Xie Shaojun walked in.

She ordered some oden, asking for extra broth and no spice.

The clerk, head bowed, scooped the oden into a paper cup, her right arm cradling a one-and-a-half-year-old child.

She was slightly plump, with a round face and a kind demeanor, dressed in the store’s red uniform. After packing the oden, Xie Shaojun went to pay.

Without looking up, the clerk said gently that she could pay after eating.

Her profile exuded a motherly tenderness.

Xie Shaojun smiled as she took the cup, glancing at the child in the woman’s arms. “Your child is really beautiful,” she remarked casually.

The woman’s eyes crinkled with a smile as she looked up at Xie Shaojun, then her eyes widened.

“Miss?”

Xie Shaojun frowned. “What’s wrong?”

The woman’s expression turned panicked. She placed the child in the stroller, stared at Xie Shaojun’s face for a few more seconds, and said, “Could you please watch him for me? I need to step out to make a call.”

Her eyes were slightly moist, as though something urgent weighed heavily on her, and she desperately conveyed her need for help through her gaze.

Xie Shaojun didn’t think much of it and replied, “Sure.”

However, she reminded the woman that she shouldn’t casually leave her child with strangers in the future, it wasn’t safe or appropriate.

The woman nodded fervently, her emotions running high, and told Xie Shaojun that the child’s name was “Zhu Nian.”

“His father chose the name to commemorate our family’s benefactor.”

Xie Shaojun found herself inexplicably under the woman’s grateful gaze. She picked up her oden and sat on a bench closer to the child.

Three minutes later, the woman returned, followed by a tall, dark-skinned man with a vicious scar running across his cheek. Despite the approaching winter, he wore a short-sleeved shirt, revealing arms adorned with a vividly tattooed green dragon.

When Xie Shaojun looked over, the man’s scalding tears fell straight to the ground.

“Xie…” His lips were dry, and he rubbed his arms, not daring to step forward. He stood at the entrance and called out, “Little Xie.”

Xie Shaojun raised a hand to shield her eyes from the light, then belatedly glanced back at the child in the high chair.

Realization dawned on her. She finished the last skewer of oden in her hand, tossed the bamboo stick into the trash, and said to Zhu Sicheng, “You’re actually pretty good at naming things, huh?”

Xie Shaojun stayed for dinner at Zhu Sicheng’s home before leaving.

Zhu Sicheng talked about the development of his real estate company over the years, he was now the developer for the construction site in Nan City’s western district.

He mentioned that his wife had been trying to lose weight since giving birth, but she insisted on exclusively breastfeeding. Their child, Zhu Nian, was thriving the name was chosen as a keepsake, a reminder of how much they all missed Xie Shaojun.

Xie Shaojun clinked glasses with Zhu Sicheng and gave the child a red envelope with lucky money.

The child laughed happily, and a smile tugged at Xie Shaojun’s lips.

Two years ago, when she died, Xie Shaojun had thought the world was irredeemably rotten. Scum thrived while good people never saw justice. So she had defiantly abandoned this world but then she met Chi Yi, Zhu Sicheng, Damei,

In the landscape of her past, every person had a vivid, smiling face.