After My Death, Everyone Repented (Transmigration) - Chapter 69

Inside the car, Xie Shaoyun and Chi Yi were both a little out of control. The air conditioning was on, but their bodies were sticky with sweat, their hair tangled.

Chi Yi called her assistant to buy some snacks from a morning tea restaurant and bring them to the car. Once they arrived, she had the driver take them straight home.

Chi Yi’s home was also Xie Shaoyun’s home.

A two-story penthouse duplex where Xie Shaoyun had lived for a long time. The position of the shampoo, the bedside incense, the arrangement of her and Chi Yi’s lipstick shades on the vanity none of it had changed.

Two years ago, when Xie Shaoyun left this home, she had dragged two suitcases as tall as herself.

But now, returning to live here again, Xie Shaoyun only had a small bag. It didn’t contain clothes or daily necessities, Chi Yi already had all of those here. Xie Shaoyun had only brought Chi Yi’s New Year’s gift.

It seemed as if nothing in the house had changed much. Everything Xie Shaoyun had once taken away had been stubbornly replicated by Chi Yi and placed back in its original spot.

In truth, this wasn’t the first time Xie Shaoyun had come back to stay. But because the environment was so familiar, it was easy to overlook the details.

The previous times, Xie Shaoyun had come in a hurry, always at night, in the dark. She had been too preoccupied with Chi Yi, pressed against each other on the sofa, the round bed in the bedroom, the floor mat exhausted afterward, falling asleep in each other’s arms, with no time to notice anything else.

Her hair half-dried, Xie Shaoyun lost patience and put down the hairdryer, spacing out for a while. Chi Yi was still in the shower and hadn’t come out yet.

Xie Shaoyun stood up and, like a landlord inspecting her territory, walked through every room on both floors.

This wasn’t something Xie Shaoyun would have done before, but now things were different. She had been involved in decorating every inch of this home the shape of the sofa, the overhead lights, the color of the curtains, all chosen together with Chi Yi.

The traces of their life together were too obvious, leaving no room for unfamiliarity or distance.

From the lower floor to the upper, the last room was Chi Yi’s study.

Bookshelves stood on the left, a wine cabinet on the right, and in the middle were two desks pushed close together.

One was Chi Yi’s; the other, the colorful one, was Xie Shaoyun’s.

Xie Shaoyun sat down in her own designated workspace, spinning once in the chair before returning to her original position.

With a thud, her arm knocked against a white binder. Xie Shaoyun quickly bent down to pick it up, dusting it off. The papers that had fallen out bore a research report title written in French: Brainwave Memory Band Retrospective Mapping.

Xie Shaoyun skimmed it briefly before gathering the documents. Just then, she heard movement behind her.

“Puppy.”

Chi Yi called her. Usually, after their intimate moments, Chi Yi didn’t like using Xie Shaoyun’s name as if “puppy” was more affectionate, satisfying some mischievous whim of hers.

Xie Shaoyun placed the folder back in its original spot.

“Why the sudden interest in brainwave research?”

Chi Yi glanced down and said, “I studied this topic in school before. Found it interesting, but the technology isn’t quite successful yet.”

Xie Shaoyun let out an “oh” but didn’t look up, missing the emotion in Chi Yi’s eyes.

They left the study, and Chi Yi touched Xie Shaoyun’s half-dried hair. “It’s not dry yet.”

“My hair’s long. Drying it in winter means holding the hairdryer forever it’s a hassle. Is yours dry?”

“We have a hair dryer at home. Want to use it?” Chi Yi asked.

“Bad for the scalp.”

As if knowing she’d refuse, Chi Yi said, “Then I’ll dry it for you.”

Chi Yi went downstairs to fetch the hair dryer, then returned to the second floor and asked Xie Shaoyun to sit at the dressing table so she could dry her hair for her.

In front of the mirror, their figures overlapped. The warm, dry breeze from the hair dryer carried a hint of spring.

Xie Shaoyun felt her eyelids grow heavy, drowsy, and unconsciously called out Chi Yi’s name, murmuring, “Chi Yi.”

“You said you didn’t want to know the story recorded in that black notebook.”

Chi Yi froze for a moment, then sighed helplessly before slowly crouching down and leaning close to Xie Shaoyun, pressing her forehead firmly against hers.

She said, “Originally, I didn’t want to know.”

“But you were so sad. If I couldn’t remember, you’d be the only one grieving in those memories.”

Xie Shaoyun didn’t know what to say. She wanted to tell Chi Yi about their past directly.

But Chi Yi stubbornly refused to let her recount it and instead said to Xie Shaoyun, “Researching human brainwave technology is preparation for advancing artificial intelligence, so this isn’t just about remembering our past lives.”

“I was wrong. Don’t be angry.”

Putting down the hair dryer, Chi Yi leaned in to touch Xie Shaoyun’s fingers, then her lips. Xie Shaoyun no longer had time to dwell on those thoughts. She pushed Chi Yi onto the bed and did what they hadn’t had time to finish in the car earlier.

The following week, both Xie Shaoyun and Chi Yi were swamped with work. Before the New Year, Xie Shaoyun skipped her duties at the Artists’ Association and hid away at Chi Yi’s place to slack off.

But then Damei had to take Xie Zangxing home to meet her parents. As the New Year approached, the tattoo studio was flooded with work.

Whether for professional or personal reasons, Xie Shaoyun had to help out. Even though her current reputation didn’t match that of her past life, last month, a video of her performing a full-back tattoo repair for a sleeve was recorded by an observing tattoo artist and posted online.

Damei used this to promote Xie Shaoyun’s skills, and afterward, many people sought her out for tattoos. Moreover, scarcity drove up demand.

Xie Shaoyun didn’t show her face in her designs. Since she was registered with the association, her main profession wasn’t as a tattoo artist. Occasionally working at the studio was fine, but she didn’t take on frequent commissions.

On Friday evening, Xie Shaoyun took on Damei’s last client. This client was somewhat special, Cui Shuran, a well-known figure in the financial district, had a scar on her shoulder blade and wanted a butterfly tattoo to cover it.

But the location was tricky, and the client had many demands. Damei had worked on it for two months and still hadn’t finished the touch-ups. This was her final session, just half an hour of color correction should have been enough.

The original appointment was set for 4 p.m., but the client’s assistant kept postponing the time.

By 9 p.m., the client still hadn’t shown up. Xie Shaoyun wasn’t that patient and told the front desk to refuse the appointment and reschedule.

Chi Yi had her company’s annual dinner that night and might be home late.

Xie Shaoyun called her to ask when she’d be done.

Chi Yi said 11 p.m.

Xie Shaoyun thought that would give her enough time to finish the painting she was making for Chi Yi before heading back.

So she didn’t urge Chi Yi to come home early. On the other end of the line, Chi Yi was unusually quiet, waiting in silence for a while before unilaterally ending the call.

Xie Shaoyun didn’t think much of it. Recently, while working on shading for clients, inspiration had struck her. She wanted to add spring vines to the iris painting she was making for Chi Yi.

So she laid out her paints and tools in her dedicated studio, sketching and coloring.

Half an hour later, a commotion suddenly erupted downstairs.

“We called earlier to confirm with you, thinking this matter could be resolved through mutual discussion. Miss Cui has a prior engagement with Mr. Chi of Haimi Group tonight, an unexpected annual meeting. So, we had no choice but to postpone the tattoo appointment. I assumed the studio would understand.”

“Apologies, but no matter how important a client’s matter is, if a pre-booked appointment is postponed, our studio’s policy requires rescheduling for the next available slot.”

“Business is about prioritizing clients. Even Tony is working overnight on tattoos. Does your tattoo artist think they’re above everyone else?”

“Really, I’m very sorry,” the receptionist apologized helplessly, but the client wasn’t having it.

The client’s tall, burly male assistant shoved the receptionist aside and said arrogantly, “Miss Cui doesn’t accept your apology. Call the tattoo artist out, we’re filing a complaint against her.”

Xie Shaojun descended the stairs just in time to hear the argument. Her hand rested on the railing as she lifted her eyelids, casting a cold, assessing glance at the two before ensuring the receptionist was unharmed.

Then, she addressed the blustering assistant, “I’m right here. How exactly do you plan to complain about me?”

The studio was nearly empty by then. Xie Shaojun removed her mask, revealing a striking face illuminated under the lights, radiant and alluring. Her eyes naturally carried a smile, even when she was angry, exuding an irresistible charm.

The studio’s heating was on, and she walked down in a fitted dress, her bare calves drawing attention even in cotton slippers, no heels needed.

The male assistant was momentarily stunned.

Miss Cui frowned, calling her assistant’s name twice with no response. Impatient, she stepped out from behind him, squinting to focus on Xie Shaojun. Her poor eyesight made it hard to discern Xie Shaojun’s features, but her tone was sharp as she demanded, “Are you the tattoo artist assigned to me? What’s your name?”

“Don’t feel like telling you. Afraid you can’t handle it,” Xie Shaojun replied with a smirk.

Her words instantly provoked Miss Cui. The male assistant clenched his fists, ready to step forward, but the receptionist quickly intervened to defuse the tension. “This is our Master Xie. Her skills are exceptional even better than the boss’s ”

“Xie?” Cui Shuran cut her off, scanning her memory for any tattoo artist by that name. “Da Mei actually assigned me some nobody?”

The blatant mockery was too much for the receptionist, who opened her mouth to protest.

Xie Shaojun stopped her with a raised hand. Smiling, she strode confidently toward Cui Shuran and declared, “Now, this ‘nobody’ is rejecting you.”

Only then did Cui Shuran finally get a clear look at Xie Shaojun’s face.

She froze, taking a long moment to process before scrutinizing Xie Shaojun again.

Xie Shaojun’s features were striking naturally expressive, effortlessly captivating, more enchanting than any celebrity. Wherever she went, she left a lasting impression.

Cui Shuran clearly recognized that face. Straining her memory, she finally placed Xie Shaojun from an international art exhibition gala.

Her voice trembled slightly as she asked, uncertain, “Your surname is Xie?”

Xie Shaojun ignored her, bluntly dialing the police to report a disturbance.

Cui Shuran hesitated, not daring to approach.

The male assistant beside her arrogantly stepped up to Xie Shaojun and said, “You wouldn’t dare.”

Xie Shaojun didn’t even lift an eyelid, merely chuckling softly under her breath.

It was at that moment that Chi Yi pushed the door open. She hadn’t changed out of her evening gown yet, a shawl draped over her shoulders.

“How wouldn’t she dare?” Chi Yi frowned, summoning the driver, assistant, and bodyguards inside. She strode straight toward Xie Shaojun, stepping protectively in front of her. After scrutinizing the situation for a moment, she asked, “Is someone causing trouble?”

Xie Shaojun replied that it wasn’t a big deal, there were surveillance cameras in the shop, and the police had already been called. Then she turned to Chi Yi and asked, “Why did you come here?”

Chi Yi answered, “To take you home.”

“The annual gala isn’t over yet, is it?”

Chi Yi shook her head. “I left early.”

Xie Shaojun laughed at that. The two exchanged an intimate, unwavering gaze, their fingers intertwined, matching rings glinting, clear proof of their marriage.

Meanwhile, Miss Cui, the only one from the evening’s Haimi Group gala present here, stood frozen in shock.

She suddenly recalled Chi Yi’s fiancée, renowned painter, vice-chair of the Artists’ Association, the third daughter of Sunshine Automobile’s Xie family, and Chi Yi’s same-sex partner.

Every detail matched the woman standing before her.

Cui Shuran’s eyes rolled back, her face paling as if she might faint at any moment.

Fortunately, the usually aloof and highly intelligent CEO Chi Yi had no time to spare for her. Xie Shaojun led Chi Yi upstairs, chiding her along the way, “Honestly, it’s freezing out, and you barely dressed before coming here to catch someone.”

“Next time, don’t come home so late.”

Chi Yi let Xie Shaojun drape a worn-out coat over her shoulders before casting a glance at the thoroughly terrified Cui Shuran.

Cui Shuran wished she could vanish into the ground, not daring to make a sound.

But Chi Yi, who hadn’t recognized her at the gala, simply called for the driver and instructed, “Handle them.”

Then she followed Xie Shaojun upstairs.

The second floor was bathed in warm lighting, with only the studio illuminated.

Xie Shaojun led Chi Yi inside, saying she needed to wash her hands first.

In the center of the studio stood an easel, and Chi Yi immediately spotted the painting of irises.

She walked over, the paint on the canvas was still half-dry.

“You were working on this tonight?”

Xie Shaojun hummed in affirmation.

“These are spring irises. My New Year’s gift to you.” Standing at the sink, Xie Shaojun didn’t turn around as she asked, “Do you like it?”

Chi Yi paused, lifting her gaze to Xie Shaojun a beat slower. Paint still clung to Xie Shaojun’s fingers as she rinsed them under the tap, the warm water mixing with pigments as it trickled down her hands.

Chi Yi’s gaze lingered before she finally answered, “I love it.”

“Mm.” Xie Shaojun grabbed a paper towel, drying her hands as she walked over.

She stopped in front of Chi Yi. On the easel was a painting of blooming irises entwined with green vines.

But Chi Yi’s eyes were drawn only to Xie Shaojun, whose allure far surpassed the artwork. She watched as Xie Shaojun’s lips curved into a smile, radiant and captivating.

Under the soft studio lights, Xie Shaojun wrapped an arm around Chi Yi’s waist and asked, “Chi Yi, do you know what irises symbolize?”

Unexpectedly, Chi Yi nodded.

“Their meaning is, ‘I miss you.’” Chi Yi leaned close, her voice the gentlest it had ever been, whispering into Xie Shaojun’s ear, “Spring is here, and I’ve been thinking of you all along.”

Xie Shaojun believed her. “Chi Yi,” she murmured, “I love you.”

They kissed in the studio, the easel toppled over, paint spilling across the floor.

The graffiti-covered ground depicted two slender figures from behind.

On the third day of the Lunar New Year, Chi Yi went on vacation to the Barton Estate in France, and Xie Shaojun tagged along.

For nearly half a year, Xie Shaojun hadn’t traveled far, diligently working on numerous projects.

Most of her energy was spent designing logos for the art studio, tying up loose ends left behind by Qin Wan.

A smaller portion of her time was devoted to nurturing relationships, occasionally helping Da Mei by taking on tattoo commissions.

By year’s end, she was no longer drifting aimlessly her pockets were full, and her love life was thriving.

There was just one downside: maintaining a long-distance, platonic relationship with Chi Yi had completely derailed Xie Shaojun’s plans for outdoor sketching.

It had been ages since she’d traveled abroad to breathe fresh air.

On the flight to Paris, Chi Yi draped a blanket over Xie Shaojun.

Xie pulled it over her head and tried to sleep. But half an hour later, the plane suddenly tilted, and turbulence rocked the cabin.

Chi Yi caught Xie’s slipping body as startled cries erupted from the back of the plane. Shaking off the dizziness, Xie heard Chi Yi’s distressingly practiced emergency response, first pulling her upright into her seat, checking her seatbelt, then dumping the orange juice from the tray into the trash. All in ten seconds.

“Lean your head back, close your eyes, and take deep breaths,” Chi Yi said, turning to her. “It’s just wing turbulence. It’s fine.”

Over the repetitive safety announcements, Xie found her voice and said, “Chi Yi, I want to move.”

Chi Yi froze. After two seconds of silence, she asked, incredulous, “Do you mean what I think you mean?”

“Yeah.” Xie nodded. “Would you be okay with me moving to Nan City to live with you?”

Chi Yi wrapped an arm around her from the side, saying she believed Xie was serious not joking in this moment.

And then: “Welcome home.”

After the New Year, Xie Shaojun had a brief period of leisure before becoming swamped again. Not with her art studio or tattoo work in March, she attended the annual meeting at the headquarters in Bei City.

The Artists’ Association had several major projects lined up for 2026, two of which fell to Xie.

The first: the government’s decision to brand Nan City as a “Cultural Capital,” with various associations assigning personnel to help establish its art galleries.

The second: the upcoming 6th Maritime Silk Road International Arts Festival in Nan City, where Xie would oversee everything from selecting submissions to thematic arrangements.

With less than six months until the event, the tight deadline left no room for advance notice, her assignments were handed down during the meeting.

Xie was exasperated. After the session, she went to the director’s office and said with a forced smile, “I never agreed to this appointment. How could you dump so much work on me without asking?”

The old man set down his pen, straightened his tie, and raised an eyebrow. “Young people should have young people’s vigor. Besides, I’m sending you to Nan City you’ll have to endure the workload.”

“You approved my teaching initiative last year, didn’t you? And those two special professor slots.”

Xie thought to herself, That’s not the same thing at all.

The tasks she asked her boss to handle were trivial, but the tasks her boss assigned to her required her utmost effort.

The boss smiled like the Maitreya Buddha and said, “Comrade Xie Shaojun, only you can handle this matter. We old folks can’t move around as easily anymore. Among the younger generation, no one currently holds a higher title, greater fame, or more awards than you. Only you can hold your own in such a setting.”

Xie Shaojun remained silent. The old man continued, “What was your original purpose in learning to paint?”

Xie Shaojun recited her university’s motto in response: “Promote domestic culture to the world.”

“Good that you remember,” the boss said. “The Silk Road Art Exhibition’s stage is now in your hands, it’s also about promoting culture and expanding the influence of domestic artwork.”

The old man pulled out a stack of materials and patiently explained the concept of the art festival to Xie Shaojun, his tone growing gentler. “Comrade Xie Shaojun, I hope you won’t betray the dreams you’ve held onto all this time.”

With things put this way, Xie Shaojun naturally had to take on the project.

The International Silk Road Art Exhibition was crucial for the country’s cultural outreach. When Xie Shaojun first started learning to paint whether it was oil paintings, abstract works, or later abandoning the Japanese tattooing techniques her goal had always been to bring domestic artistry abroad.

To make others learn from our own traditions. That was what her professor had once said in class.

Art knows no hierarchy or nationality.

In painting and aesthetics, if one achieves the pinnacle of artistry, it becomes something extraordinary.

Over the years, Xie Shaojun’s skills had improved significantly. Her expertise was no longer limited to abstract oil paintings, she could also incorporate the tactile sense of tattooing into her work.

There was no need for self-doubt. She was, without question, the most capable among the younger generation to command such a stage.

The boss’s intention was for her to give it serious thought.

She did need a platform to showcase herself, and Xie Shaojun was willing. But before committing, she wanted to discuss it with Chi Yi.

That night, Xie Shaojun didn’t make love to Chi Yi. Instead, she hugged her from behind, pressing her face against Chi Yi’s cheek, and brought up the matter.

“If I take on this project, our wedding will probably have to be postponed. I’ll be very busy for half a year.”

Chi Yi looked at her quietly for a long moment before saying, “Little pup, you don’t have to be so obedient.”

Xie Shaojun blinked in surprise. “How could you tell I’m being obedient?”

Chi Yi traced her fingers over Xie Shaojun’s brows, her eyes brimming with tenderness, and replied in a casual tone, “I can see it everywhere. You discuss everything with me so well-behaved.”

Xie Shaojun arched a brow and teased, “Does it make you happy that I’m well-behaved?”

“Very,” Chi Yi answered immediately.

Their gazes locked, and Xie Shaojun rolled over, pinning Chi Yi beneath her. “Then you’re way too easy to please.”

Recommended pre-release from a good friend superb read. Title: Wedding of Fortune (GL)

Author: Hu 33

Qian Cheng, the least favored daughter of the Qian family, is sent to the Si household as a substitute bride to “ward off misfortune” in place of her elder sister.

On her wedding night, Qian Cheng discovers that the supposedly terminally ill “young master” of the Si family, Si Jin, not only looks stunningly feminine but, upon undressing, is indeed a woman!

To ensure her birth mother’s safety in the Qian household, Qian Cheng resolves to consummate the marriage with her eyes closed until she realizes Si Jin is blind.

So she could only open her eyes, take the other’s hand, and press it against her slightly heated skin, trembling as she said, “Don’t be afraid, I’ll teach you.” Though she didn’t know how either, she held Si Jin close and leaned in.

After a night had passed, Qian Cheng rubbed her legs and sighed in admiration, Si Jin truly lived up to being “a talent envied by the heavens.” Those beautiful, slender hands not only learned to write quickly but mastered other things even faster.

It wasn’t until later that she discovered Si Jin had been pretending to be blind on their wedding night

Qian Cheng bit down hard, “You’re done for!”

Si Jin held her close, smiling as she asked, “How exactly do you want to ‘play’?”

Marriage first, love later super sweet.

No need to engage your brain, just skim through a couple pages before bed.

The illness is fake, both female leads are perfectly healthy and guaranteed to live long lives with a happy ending.