After My Death, Everyone Repented (Transmigration) - Chapter 66

The development zone was quiet at night, with a few scattered stars dotting the sky.

Xie Shaojun held Chi Yi’s hand but stopped after only a few steps of running.

It was hard to say which of them had halted first. The van behind them hadn’t been shaken off by much.

Xie Shaojun stopped because she had just woken from unconsciousness and was physically exhausted.

As for why Chi Yi stopped so irrationally, Xie Shaojun couldn’t say.

Leaning on her own strength, Xie Shaojun stepped on the shattered sycamore leaves, her breathing ragged.

Chi Yi moved closer, gently patting her back to help her catch her breath. After a few strokes, Xie Shaojun’s breathing steadied, and she felt a little better. Straightening up, she took Chi Yi’s hand from her back and said, “I’m fine now.”

Chi Yi seemed not to hear, placing her hand back on Xie Shaojun’s shoulder blade. She stared at Xie Shaojun, who had no choice but to patiently repeat, “Do you plan to keep patting me forever?”

Chi Yi didn’t respond, her gaze deep and laden with too many emotions.

Suspicious, Xie Shaojun waved a hand in front of Chi Yi’s eyes. “Are you even listening?”

“Chi Yi?”

Chi Yi wasn’t listening. She slightly lifted her chin, suddenly gripped Xie Shaojun’s shoulder, and leaned in, pressing her soft, thin lips forcefully against Xie Shaojun’s.

Chi Yi’s lips were cold, a stark contrast to the warmth of her palms.

She wasn’t as tall as Xie Shaojun, so to kiss her, she had to tilt her head up. Xie Shaojun looked down at her.

Chi Yi’s peach-blossom eyes were red, no longer composed and steady, nor coolly unreadable.

Xie Shaojun could see a burning intensity in Chi Yi’s gaze, one that demanded continuation.

So she didn’t move.

She let Chi Yi’s teeth roam recklessly inside her mouth until her lips were bitten raw.

Xie Shaojun wrapped an arm around Chi Yi’s waist, took two steps forward, and pressed her against the sycamore tree behind them.

In the shadow of the tree, Chi Yi continued to bite Xie Shaojun with fervor.

Xie Shaojun tilted her head back, putting a little distance between them, forcing their lips apart.

The kiss hadn’t been pleasant, and time was running short. Chi Yi frowned, standing still.

“You bit me too hard,” Xie Shaojun chided.

Chi Yi looked at her with an inscrutable, barely restrained intensity and said, “That’s because you didn’t move.”

There was an accusatory tone in her voice.

Perhaps Chi Yi didn’t realize that her eyes were red at the corners, her lips glistening under the moonlight not like snowflakes, but like a snow spirit fallen to earth.

Xie Shaojun couldn’t bring herself to be angry. She slid her hand down Chi Yi’s back and called her name softly, her voice hoarse: “Chi Yi. Did you really want to kiss me that badly?”

Chi Yi lifted her gaze, her fingers brushing Xie Shaojun’s swollen lips.

Her expression wasn’t its usual calm and collected self.

In the winter cold, their exhaled breaths condensed into faint mist, blurring their vision slightly. Xie Shaojun could barely make out Chi Yi’s eyes.

Chi Yi leaned in again, but this time not for a kiss. Instead, she turned her head and buried it deeply into the crook of Xie Shaojun’s neck.

Something warm slid from Chi Yi’s cheek onto Xie Shaojun’s neck.

Tears.

Xie Shaojun froze.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” After a moment, Chi Yi called her name calmly: “Xie Shaojun.”

“I’m sorry.”

She had already said those words in the car earlier.

Xie Shaojun didn’t understand why she was apologizing again.

Chi Yi’s eyes were filled with complex emotions overwhelming guilt and heartache.

But these emotions shouldn’t have been this overwhelming for the current situation. After all, Jian Qing’s hostage threat was something they had mentally prepared for in advance, and it had been intercepted in time.

There hadn’t been any earth-shattering danger, Chi Yi shouldn’t have been like this.

The surroundings were too dark, with only a single backlit streetlamp in the distance and a few stars overhead.

Xie Shaojun couldn’t read Chi Yi’s expression as easily as usual. Her hand slid soothingly along Chi Yi’s spine. Neither of them spoke, holding each other quietly for a while until Chi Yi seemed to recover. She lifted her head from Xie Shaojun’s neck, closed her eyes, and tilted her face up in a silent request both commanding and fragile whispering, “Can you?”

“Kiss me.”

When it came to intimacy, Chi Yi had always been distant. In their past life together, Xie Shaojun had clearly sensed Chi Yi’s rational restraint and an almost inhuman calmness. So it was rare for her to be this unguarded, this unable to control her emotions.

But the younger Chi Yi, Xie Shaojun’s lover now, was different. She would ask for things.

Xie Shaojun pressed Chi Yi against the trunk of a plane tree, the withered branches above them swaying precariously. The dim stars in the sky cast uneven light on their faces as they trembled.

Leaning in, Xie Shaojun didn’t answer whether it was okay or not, nor did she think this was the time for polite hesitation. She didn’t try to decipher Chi Yi’s expression either.

She kissed Chi Yi’s eyes, her nose, and then her lips thin and slightly cold, needing warmth.

Each kiss was deep, each response just as intense.

Perhaps Xie Shaojun felt that, under the moonlight, Chi Yi from this life and the last had merged into one. There had never been any separation by life or death.

The one who had left without permission had grown up alongside her and returned.

And now, she was saying, I’m sorry.

Around nine in the evening, the police successfully arrested Jian Qing and her hired mercenaries.

The timed explosive had been defused by the bomb squad.

The flashing red and blue lights of police cars amplified the glow behind them. Xie Shaojun, momentarily blinded, pulled away from the kiss, resting her head on Chi Yi’s shoulder as she caught her breath. Still weak from the earlier unconsciousness, she used her fingertips to wipe away a smudge of lipstick at the corner of Chi Yi’s mouth.

An officer called their names.

Chi Yi narrowed her eyes, steadying Xie Shaojun before straightening her own posture and stepping out from behind the tree.

“Found them! Found them!” someone shouted.

A flashlight beam landed at their feet. Xie Shaojun leaned against Chi Yi’s shoulder as Officer Wang hurried over, asking if they were alright.

After receiving their answer, he thanked them and informed them they’d need to come to the station the next day to give statements.

“Sorry for putting you through this,” Officer Wang said, familiar with Chi Yi, adding that Secretary Wang was looking for her.

Then, to Xie Shaojun, he said, “Your parents are here.”

Xie Shaojun really wanted to stay with Chi Yi, but her father, mother, eldest sister, second sister, and Da Mei had all arrived, standing in a row near a black limousine not far away.

She glanced back at Chi Yi, who tightened her grip on Xie Shaojun’s hand, refusing to let go.

Officer Wang urged them to move.

Xie Cheng was already approaching when Chi Yi unwrapped the scarf from her own neck and draped it around Xie Shaojun’s.

“Are you going home?” she asked.

Unwrapping the scarf, Chi Yi’s slender neck revealed a dark red streak of dried blood, which she seemed indifferent to. Xie Shaojun glanced at it, then suddenly reached out, grabbing Chi Yi’s hand and saying, “We should go home.”

She then asked, “Do you want to come back with me?”

Chi Yi met Xie Shaojun’s gaze and immediately replied, “Okay.”

11:00 PM.

The housekeeper packed away the alcohol swabs, disinfectant cotton buds, and gauze, storing them neatly in the first aid kit.

Xie Shaojun’s door was knocked open, and Damei stood at the entrance.

Xie Shaojun looked past her, and Damei said, “I sent Xie Zangxing away. Let’s talk, just us sisters.”

Xie Shaojun stepped aside, letting Damei in.

Her room was cluttered with more belongings than Xie Zangxing’s or Xie Qingcheng’s, though the size and orientation were similar. However, her space doubled as a studio, with easels, paints, and palettes scattered about.

Damei paced around the room before asking, “She really left, didn’t she?”

Xie Shaojun nodded, Feng Qianqian had asked the same question earlier.

Chi Yi had left because her parents had flown in on a private jet late at night to see her.

So before Damei could press further, Xie Shaojun cut straight to the answer: “I originally thought Chi Yi didn’t own any property in Sijiu City, but she just told me she has an apartment here.”

“Her parents are staying there?”

“Probably.” Chi Yi had never mentioned the apartment before, she’d always stayed in hotels when visiting Sijiu City, so Xie Shaojun wasn’t entirely sure.

“Oh.” Damei didn’t press for details. Instead, she nudged Xie Shaojun’s slippers with her toe and asked, “Do Uncle Xie and Aunt Feng know, that you’re actually Chi Yi’s ex-wife?”

“No.” Xie Shaojun replied, “It’s too absurd to explain. But my real name is Xie Haoyun.”

“Fine. The past is better left unmentioned it wasn’t anything good anyway.”

That settled the matter. As longtime friends, Damei and Xie Shaojun both knew some things weren’t worth digging into.

Damei studied Xie Shaojun’s face closely. “You look exactly like her, even your mannerisms. There’s no hiding it. When that video of you teaching went viral, I recognized you immediately. I thought, ‘Xie Shaojun, you little bastard, reborn and still avoiding me? Flying high and ditching your old friends, huh? Just wait till I get my hands on you.’”

“Easy there.” Xie Shaojun poured Damei a glass of water, letting her vent without protest.

After years of friendship, disappearing without a word had been a low blow.

But there’d been no other choice, Xie Shaojun herself hadn’t fully processed things at the time.

“When I first woke up, I didn’t have any memories of the past.” Xie Shaojun sat cross-legged on the floor, a wool blanket draped over her lap, while Damei, unable to stand the heat from the underfloor heating, declined one.

Xie Shaojun didn’t insist and instead asked about Damei’s tattoo studio.

Damei sighed. “After you left, the studio almost went under for a while. At one point, it was on the verge of closing. Then Chi Yi bought up all your sketches under someone else’s name at an inflated price. She’s the one who drove up their value. I knew what she was doing. ‘Twilight’ was my life’s work, but it was yours too.”

Back then, she didn’t even have a single photo of you, utterly pitiful, scouring the world for any trace of your existence. Twilight Studio was half your life’s work, so of course she wanted to take care of it. I refused, thinking belated affection was cheaper than grass. But later, I found out she secretly helped the studio through that crisis under someone else’s name. Though I blamed her after your death, without her intervention, Twilight might have been gone.”

Damei spoke lightly, but Xie Shaoyun could imagine the dire straits the studio had been in.

Damei had always believed that as long as Xie Shaoyun was around, the studio’s reputation would never falter.

Xie Shaoyun’s sudden departure took Twilight’s legacy with her.

Xie Shaoyun patted Damei’s shoulder. “You’ve had it rough these years.”

“Not exactly rough,” Damei glanced at Xie Shaoyun, her voice tinged with weariness. “Just heartbroken when you left. Helpless, guilty it hurt.”

Xie Shaoyun couldn’t find the words. She rested her hand on Damei’s shoulder and gave her a gentle hug.

Looking down at Damei, who then stopped her gloomy talk and chuckled, saying, “Chi Yi’s suffering was far worse than mine.”

“Seeing someone I dislike in more pain than me brings me peace.”

“Besides, you’re alive now. What do I have to be sad about?”

Xie Shaoyun thanked Damei and agreed. “Mm. I won’t disappear again.”

They chatted a bit more about work before Xie Shaoyun asked, “How’s your grandmother these past two years?”

“Still healthy. You should visit when you can. She never knew about your death, her mind’s a bit hazy now. She pickled a bunch of radishes for you, insisting you’d come get them.”

Xie Shaoyun promised to visit the old lady.

They reminisced about the past and caught up on recent events until Xie Zangxing called to hurry Damei along. Damei stood up, smacking her forehead. “I forgot.”

“We talked too long. I didn’t consider you just woke up from a coma your body must be exhausted.”

Xie Shaoyun walked Damei to the door when Damei suddenly stopped and turned back.

Seeing her hesitate, Xie Shaoyun helped her out. “Spit it out. What’s on your mind?”

Damei forced an awkward smile. “Xiao Xie.”

“Bringing Chi Yi home to meet your family are you thinking of remarrying her?”

Leaning against the doorframe, Xie Shaoyun had been half-asleep, squinting. The question made her open her eyes fully, meeting Damei’s gaze.

After a few seconds, Xie Shaoyun said, “No.”

“Good.” Damei exhaled in relief. “Zangxing’s been giving Chi Yi therapy… She knows all about Chi Yi’s obsessive feelings for her ex-wife.”

“When she heard you were with Chi Yi… I’ve been trying to talk her down, but it’ll take time ”

Xie Shaoyun lifted her eyelids, saying she’d talk to her second sister herself. But she also asked Damei to help ease Xie Zangxing into the idea.

“I won’t propose to Chi Yi again, but if she proposes to me, we’ll get married.”

At midnight, Chi Yi settled her parents in.

By 1:30 a.m., she was home. The apartment lacked any lived-in warmth, with only the bare essentials.

Her secretary arranged Chi Yi’s toiletries, eyeing her curiously, why wasn’t she staying at the hotel with her parents?

Chi Yi didn’t answer. She showered and was in bed by 2:00 a.m.

Exhausted, she fell asleep quickly, expecting to sleep till dawn. But she woke up just an hour later.

At three in the morning, Chi Yi woke abruptly from a vivid dream. After opening her eyes, she stared blankly at the dim ceiling for a long while.

It had only been four hours since she parted ways with Xie Shaojun.

But in the dream, it was as if they had never separated. She dreamed that Xie Shaojun had come home with her that night, and the two of them had slept together…

After waking, she couldn’t fall back asleep.

Chi Yi got up, walked to the kitchenette, and poured coffee beans into the machine. The loud grinding noise filled the empty apartment with sound, yet Chi Yi still felt a hollow loneliness.

Once the coffee was ready, she picked up the cup and went to the study.

There were thirty-five work emails waiting. Chi Yi habitually clicked on one and lingered on the page for a long time, never scrolling further before finally shutting the laptop.

She then pulled out a sixty-page, English-language research report from six years ago, part of a module experiment on human brain memory recall she had participated in during her AI research at Stanford.

Lately, she had been reviewing it obsessively. The report was dense with technical jargon, but she didn’t need a dictionary, every term and sentence was comprehensible to her, allowing her to draw analogies and inferences effortlessly.

She had annotated the document, noting questions she couldn’t resolve, planning to discuss them later with her postdoctoral advisor from the project.

After finishing, the papers lay scattered across the desk.

Exhaustion weighed on her, yet sleep remained elusive. The moment her mind emptied, thoughts of tonight’s dream resurfaced.

Even though she mustered every ounce of rationality to stop herself from disturbing Xie Shaojun at this hour, Chi Yi still grabbed her car keys, drove out, and unconsciously parked outside the Xie family villa.

The entire trip took an hour. Thanks to the lack of traffic, it was already past four when she arrived. Through the window, she could see the warm orange glow of Xie Shaojun’s room.

Pulling out her phone, she checked the time, then opened their chat and began typing a message, only for a reply to pop up almost instantly.

Xie Shaojun sent: “So noisy!”

Chi Yi immediately called.

“Why are you still awake?” she asked.

Xie Shaojun let out a resigned laugh. Damei had dropped by late at night to chat, and they might have talked a little too long so long that Xie Zangxing had personally come to her door to drag Damei away.

After that, the noise from next door hadn’t stopped.

“It’s been four hours. If Xie Qingcheng were home tonight, she’d have lost her temper and kicked the door down by now.”

“The walls aren’t soundproof?” Chi Yi glanced up at Xie Shaojun’s window, though she couldn’t see her. Not that it mattered. She kept her voice soft, playing along despite knowing she should be urging Xie Shaojun to rest. For some reason, Chi Yi wasn’t feeling particularly considerate right now.

Xie Shaojun laughed again, helpless.

“Who knows?” she said. “Normally, they are. But tonight, maybe Xie Zangxing’s making noise on purpose, staking her claim. I’m already embarrassed for her.”

Chi Yi fell silent. Xie Shaojun kept talking, but she didn’t respond until Xie Shaojun noticed something was off and called out, “Chi Yi?”

“Are you asleep?”

“No.” Chi Yi’s lips moved a few times before she finally couldn’t hold back and asked, “What were you and Damei doing in your room all night?”

“Chatting.” There was a rustling sound on the phone as Xie Shaoyun climbed out of bed, saying she needed to find some earplugs to put on.

“How do you chat? Any intimate behavior? Holding hands, hugging, or anything else”

Xie Shaoyun paused her search for earphones, glanced at her phone, and stopped mid-sentence, countering with a question: “Why are you asking this?”

“I want to know,” Chi Yi replied, but she showed no intention of explaining the reason. Instead, she changed the subject, telling Xie Shaoyun that Xie Zangxing’s territorial behavior was a misunderstanding, she thought there was something going on between Xie Shaoyun and Damei.

“Tell me the details of what happened then. I can help analyze the reason. Or, if you don’t want to say, it’s fine, just try not to stand so close to Damei next time.”

Xie Shaoyun let out a drawn-out “Oh,” then teased, “You’re jealous too.”

Chi Yi didn’t respond to that. Instead, she said, “It’s 4:30 now,” and asked, “Do you still plan on sleeping tonight?”

“I do. I’m really sleepy. I was about to go knock on your door.”

“Do you want to come to my place?”

Their voices overlapped, and then both fell silent simultaneously. Chi Yi’s breathing through the receiver sounded barely restrained, just like earlier in the evening when she had tilted her face up against the tree trunk, asking to be kissed.

The silence stretched for what felt like three full minutes before Xie Shaoyun finally broke it, asking Chi Yi, “Why aren’t you sleeping either?”

“I don’t know.”

Chi Yi went quiet for a moment on the other end before calling Xie Shaoyun’s name. She added, “It’s not like I didn’t sleep at all. I woke up after dreaming about you. The room feels too empty it’s hard to fall back asleep.”

“Your parents don’t live with you?”

Chi Yi said no.

“They’re staying at a hotel. I’m home alone.”

“Where’s that?” Xie Shaoyun quickly followed up, “Your place.”

Chi Yi gave her an address.

Xie Shaoyun searched it on Gaode Maps and discovered, to her surprise, that Chi Yi’s apartment was right next to her art studio.

“Wait for me. I’ll have the driver take me over.”

“No need to wait. Just come down now,” Chi Yi said. “Since I couldn’t sleep, I’m actually downstairs at your place right now.”

Xie Shaoyun felt her heart lurch violently. She threw off the covers and jumped out of bed.

Pulling back the curtains, she looked outside and sure enough, Chi Yi was leaning against her car. In the bitter cold of late winter, with temperatures dropping to -5°C at night, Chi Yi was bundled up warmly, wearing a different scarf and a beret dusted with snowflakes.

Tilting her head up, Xie Shaoyun could see her nose had turned red from the cold.

“Why didn’t you say so earlier…?” Xie Shaoyun leaned halfway out the window to scold her.

The noise might have disturbed the neighbors, as the sounds from next door quieted slightly, but Xie Shaoyun paid no attention.

She was still in her pajamas flannel, which had grown too warm. In winter, taking them off and adjusting to a new set of close-fitting sleepwear was always a struggle, so Xie Shaoyun couldn’t be bothered to change. At 4:30 in the morning, with the sky still dark and no one around to see, she simply threw on a long coat over her pajamas, draped Chi Yi’s scarf from earlier around her neck, and hurried out the door.

The temperature difference between indoors and outdoors was over ten degrees. Chi Yi was waiting at the entrance and, the moment Xie Shaoyun stepped out, immediately tucked a blanket around her and pulled Xie Shaoyun’s hands into the warmth of her own padded coat.

The gesture felt completely natural because long, long ago, this was how things had always been.

Xie Shaoyun never wore thick clothes in winter, so Chi Yi would bundle up a little more.

Xie Shaoyun never bothered with scarves, so Chi Yi would wear one for her.

Xie Shaoyun’s hands were always slow to warm, so Chi Yi would hold them in her own until they did.

It’s hard to say who accommodated whom more, because when Chi Yi spoke less, Xie Shaojun would keep the conversation going.

Chi Yi wasn’t particularly skilled in daily life, had a picky personality, and disliked driving.

Then Xie Shaojun appeared, and soon, apart from cooking, Chi Yi’s life became filled with Xie Shaojun.

Chi Yi made the wrong choice she chose to leave on her own, asking Xie Shaojun to live well in her place.

Xie Shaojun didn’t blame her for the wrong decision and repaid her with kindness, wishing her happiness and leaving her room for regret.

In Xie Shaojun’s life as a task performer, she believed Chi Yi was a high-level human who broke lovers’ hearts.

Later, the system confirmed that Chi Yi had indeed had her emotions reset lacking excess feelings was normal, not knowing how to love was normal, and making lovers feel exhausted was equally normal.

But Xie Shaojun now suddenly realized that if Chi Yi’s actions didn’t count as knowing how to love or care for someone, then there weren’t many people in this world who truly understood love.

Chi Yi had begun to dreams that made her wake up unable to sleep because Xie Shaojun was in them. She would do things that, in her structured mind, were deemed impulsive and irrational acts of a lovestruck fool, like waiting downstairs for Xie Shaojun late at night.

Though she never once uttered the word “miss” or spoke any sentimental words that might bring tears to one’s eyes, Chi Yi was slowly doing things she had never been good at or even attempted in her life. She might not even have realized it herself, how many times she had stepped closer, defying her own rigid principles.

Now, Xie Shaojun only needed to open the window, walk downstairs, and take a few simple steps to see Chi Yi, to watch the cool detachment in Chi Yi’s eyes melt into warmth, the joy of a beautiful dream coming true.

Xie Shaojun thought that if she had never regained those lost memories, she might still have ended up reaching out her hand to this version of Chi Yi.

Because no one else could ever make Xie Shaojun feel so irreplaceably attached.

At 4:30 in the morning, the roads were clear, the long street stretching endlessly with only the occasional truck passing by. The night was quiet, the car warm, and Chi Yi focused on driving, stealing glances at Xie Shaojun at red lights. Xie Shaojun, meanwhile, dozed off in the passenger seat.

When she woke, the thin blanket slipped from her body.

Memories of the early morning began to surface, though the sky outside remained dark.

Chi Yi reversed the car into the underground garage, parked, and bent down to pick up the fleece blanket that had fallen near Xie Shaojun’s feet.

Instead of straightening up immediately, she looked at Xie Shaojun and called her name: “Xie Shaojun.”

Still half-asleep, Xie Shaojun turned slightly, one hand resting on the passenger door handle.

Chi Yi gazed at her, fingers brushing against her skin.

Leaning forward, her body suspended over the center console, her face close to Xie Shaojun’s, Xie Shaojun, in a moment of unthinking instinct, kissed her.

The next afternoon, Xie Shaojun woke up in Chi Yi’s apartment.

Her phone had been vibrating incessantly, and Chi Yi handed it to her from the nightstand on her side of the bed.

It was a call from Xie Zangxing, asking where Xie Shaojun was.

Xie Shaojun didn’t hide it. “Chi Yi’s place.”

The amusement in Xie Zangxing’s voice vanished instantly. For the first time, she addressed Xie Shaojun with stern formality.

“I don’t know how you managed to get Mom, Dad, and our eldest sister to agree to this, but as far as I’m concerned, I won’t allow it.”

“Second sister,” Xie Shaojun said patiently, “you know what? Last night, Chi Yi saved your life.”

“What?”

“If she hadn’t shown up, I would’ve called Dad downstairs to kick your bedroom door in.”

That was absolutely something Xie Shaojun would do. The only reason she had endured four hours of it was out of respect for Damei’s feelings.

Xie Shaojun figured Xie Zangxing might not have done it on purpose after all, no one had ever tested the soundproofing of the rooms at home.

In all these years, none of the three sisters had ever brought friends over, let alone had such unrestrained fun. So the effectiveness of the walls’ sound insulation had never been verified.

Whether Xie Zangxing was too angry or too embarrassed to speak, she fell silent for a moment.

Xie Shaojun wasn’t particularly bothered. She had slept deeply, comfortably, wrapped in warmth.

When she woke, Chi Yi was still beside her, unusually lingering in bed instead of getting up immediately. She had tucked her legs under the covers, sitting up halfway with her back against the headboard, quietly handling her work.

Chi Yi wasn’t using the keyboard, the volume was turned low, her ears plugged with headphones. The curtains remained drawn, and an orange-yellow bedside lamp cast its glow in the room.

With just a slight tilt of her head, Xie Shaojun could brush against Chi Yi’s leg, feeling the warmth of her body, slightly higher than her own temperature.

It was this warmth that made Xie Shaojun wake up, sensing a steady, comforting heat radiating toward her.

That was why she was in an exceptionally good mood, patient enough to reason with Xie Zangxing. “In psychology,” she said, “there’s a term called ‘herd mentality.'”

Xie Zangxing replied, “There is.”

“Good, then you’ll understand. Our family, including Damei five of us in total agree that Chi Yi and I should be together. Your dissent is considered an invalid suggestion and won’t be adopted. If you insist on your stance, it’ll lead to arguments with family and loved ones. I’m sure neither scenario would sit well with you.”

“So just agree,” Xie Shaojun said, calling out softly, “Second Sister.”

“What’s the point of acting cute?”

Xie Zangxing fell silent for a long moment before finally asking, “Did Chi Yi teach you to say this?”

At some point, Chi Yi had removed her headphones, shifting her gaze from the computer screen to Xie Shaojun. Under her steady stare, Xie Shaojun lazily replied, “No.”

“This was a decision made a long, long, long time ago, Chi Yi deserves happiness. Originally, it had nothing to do with me, but Chi Yi insists that only with me by her side can she be happy. So we’ll stay together.”

After hanging up on Xie Zangxing, Xie Shaojun noticed Chi Yi frozen on the bed, quietly watching her for a long time before leaning in and burying her face against Xie Shaojun’s chest.

She didn’t say much else, only murmuring, “We will be together.”

Without turning around, Chi Yi reached back with her left hand and opened the bedside drawer. It was empty except for two delicate gift boxes.

Without even looking, she took the one on the left, hesitated for a moment, then pushed it toward Xie Shaojun.

“What’s this?” Xie Shaojun asked.

Chi Yi whispered, “A ring.”

“What?”

“I said…” Chi Yi took a deep breath, mustering her courage as she lifted her face to meet Xie Shaojun’s eyes. “Be with me.”

“Let’s get married.”