After My Death, Everyone Repented (Transmigration) - Chapter 72

After delivering the harsh words, Xie Shaojun couldn’t wait to leave. The long coat brushed against Chi Yi’s arms, but Chi Yi didn’t take it.

The crowd around them was dense. Someone bumped into Chi Yi from behind, whether intentionally or not, it was unclear. Chi Yi stumbled and fell toward Xie Shaojun, who instinctively opened her arms without thinking.

Once Chi Yi steadied herself, Xie Shaojun withdrew her hands. A faint smile flickered in Chi Yi’s eyes as she said, “Xie Shaojun, you haven’t changed.”

Xie Shaojun didn’t respond.

Chi Yi didn’t seem embarrassed either, continuing in a familiar tone, “I returned to the country three months ago. I’ve already completed my degree in the U.S. and will be transferring back to A University for graduate studies this fall.”

Xie Shaojun didn’t care to know any of this. The story between her and Chi Yi had come to an abrupt end three summers ago.

She had moved on effortlessly. That night, she had repeatedly told herself she was close to forgetting Chi Yi.

As long as Chi Yi understood her words and kept her distance, it would be possible.

But Chi Yi lacked the tact to respect Xie Shaojun’s wishes.

So Xie Shaojun could only ignore her, toss the coat aside, and walk away.

Tonight’s banquet was one of Guangcheng’s grandest celebrations.

The attendees were all social elites. Before arriving, Xie Shaojun had been sternly reminded by her father though it wasn’t their family’s event, they couldn’t afford to lose face.

In other words, no matter how much she loathed these social gatherings, she had to stay until the very end.

Determined not to cause a scene, Xie Shaojun obediently stuck by Xie Cheng’s side as a silent ornament after shaking off Chi Yi.

In high-society circles, connections, status, and collaborations dictated who stood with whom, all smiles and pleasantries.

Coincidentally, the Xie and Chi families had deep ties.

After barely a moment’s respite from avoiding Chi Yi, Xie Shaojun found herself dragged back by their families for another forced reunion.

Over the years, Xie Shaojun had matured considerably. In these circles, concealing one’s emotions was second nature.

Despite having just declared their friendship over, the moment their families gathered, Xie Shaojun effortlessly donned the same polite mask as Chi Yi.

Amid the surrounding chatter, the two families mingled.

At the forefront, Xie Cheng and Chi Guangbo discussed a development zone project, while Feng Qianqian linked arms with Liu Wan, reminiscing about the past.

After a lengthy catch-up, the conversation shifted to Xie Qingcheng. “Qingcheng, you’ll be twenty-five next year. Are you seeing anyone?” Liu Wan asked.

Xie Qingcheng had long made it clear to her family that she had no plans to marry. Sensing her mother’s gaze, she quickly deflected, “Auntie, I still want to enjoy my freedom for a few more years. What about Chi Yi? Has she been seeing anyone?”

Liu Wan glanced at Chi Yi first, then, inexplicably, her eyes settled on Xie Shaojun. Her smile softened slightly as she said, “Chi Yi has someone she likes.”

Feng Qianqian pressed eagerly, “Whose child is it?”

Liu Wan replied, “She’s still pursuing them. Who knows if they’ll reciprocate?”

“How could they not? Chi Yi is so outstanding it’s not like they’re blind,” Feng Qianqian giggled behind her hand, as if Chi Yi’s romantic success was already a foregone conclusion in her mind.

She insisted Liu Wan was being modest and envied her for raising such a remarkable daughter, one who needed no parental concern over career or marriage.

“You’re so fortunate. Chi Yi has never given you a moment’s worry since she was little.”

“Not like me.”

At this point in the conversation, Feng Qianqian pointed disdainfully at her two daughters flanking her and the unruly youngest one behind her, snorting with undisguised irritation.

“Three girls in this house, and not a single one listens. If they ever caused trouble and brought girlfriends home one day, Old Xie and I wouldn’t even be surprised,” Xie Shaojun heard her mother complain.

Unexpectedly, Liu Wan was quite optimistic and open-minded. She linked arms with Feng Qianqian and reassured her, “Having a girlfriend is a good thing. Same-sex marriage is already legal abroad.”

“Think about it you’ll have another daughter by your side to take care of you. How heartwarming.”

She added, “Anyway, Junjun, Zangxing and Qingcheng are all well-behaved kids.”

Liu Wan said this while looking directly into Xie Shaojun’s eyes. Then, naturally, she beckoned for Xie Shaojun to come closer.

Xie Shaojun found Liu Wan’s gaze oddly intense. Hesitantly, she stepped forward, and Liu Wan immediately seized her hand. Pushing up the sleeve of her qipao, Liu Wan revealed a wrist adorned with a translucent jade bangle. Without waiting for a response, she slipped it onto Xie Shaojun’s wrist.

Xie Shaojun tried to refuse several times but failed.

She could only turn to her mother for help. After Feng Qianqian nodded, Xie Shaojun politely thanked Liu Wan.

Liu Wan clasped her hand tightly, her tone even warmer than when speaking to her own daughter. “Auntie hasn’t seen you in so long. How have you been these past few years, Junjun?”

Given the close ties between their families, Xie Shaojun had practically grown up under Liu Wan’s watchful eye. Out of courtesy, she answered each question dutifully, briefly summarizing her experiences over the years.

Chi Yi stood quietly nearby, listening patiently.

The surroundings were noisy, and a few people tried to approach her for conversation.

In such a setting, Xie Shaojun noticed that even Chi Yi had moments of imperfection, her expression distant, her gaze fixed intently on Xie Shaojun’s chattering lips.

Her fingers absently interlaced, cradling a glass, tapping lightly now and then, a telltale sign that Chi Yi was listening attentively. When Xie Shaojun finished speaking and looked up, she met Chi Yi’s focused stare. After a brief pause, she deliberately averted her eyes.

Whatever was said afterward, Xie Shaojun didn’t bother to listen.

Some time later, she suddenly heard Chi Yi call her name.

Xie Shaojun didn’t respond. Distractedly, she excused herself from the elders and tried to slip behind the dance floor, hoping to find some food and fresh air.

Her gaze drifted toward the distant buffet table when Chi Yi stepped closer and said, “You forgot to eat again.”

It was a statement, not a question.

Xie Shaojun lifted her eyelids slightly but didn’t deny it.

They walked a few more steps, one after the other, before Xie Shaojun stopped.

Chi Yi halted as well, deliberately ignoring the other’s silent rejection. In the same familiar tone as before, she murmured, “They have red velvet cake over there the kind you like.”

“Want to go together?”

Under the lights, Chi Yi stared at her.

Xie Shaojun frowned, feeling this wasn’t right. “Chi Yi,” she said.

Chi Yi looked up. Unable to hold back, Xie Shaojun asked, “Didn’t you hear me?”

“What?” Chi Yi feigned ignorance.

“I don’t want to be friends with you anymore,” Xie Shaojun reminded her. “How many times do I have to repeat it?”

Chi Yi smiled faintly, devoid of emotion, and said she’d heard it.

Since their reunion, this was the first time Chi Yi made Xie Shaojun feel something other than strangeness, just like three years ago, with that faintly mocking, bitter tone, engaging in a quiet standoff.

Xie Shaojun decided to drop the pretense as well, her smile not reaching her eyes. “As long as you understand, that’s all that matters.”

“No particular reason, just hope you’ll stay away from me in the future.”

Chi Yi neither agreed nor refused. She stared at Xie Shaojun for about thirty seconds.

Suddenly, she raised her wine glass and greeted Xie Cheng behind Xie Shaojun, saying, “Uncle Xie, not long ago, you invited me to visit your home. But Xie Shaojun said she was too busy and wouldn’t let me come over.”

Xie Cheng had been discussing a development zone project with Chi Guangbo. Hearing this, he turned around and blinked, signaling her not to cause trouble. Then, feigning seriousness, he scolded her, “How old are you? Speaking so carelessly, taking advantage of Chi Yi’s good temper to bully her.”

Chi Yi, cunning as ever, smirked. Xie Shaojun couldn’t stand her and clicked her tongue, spinning the wine glass in her hand with an air of nonchalance. She retorted to her father, “You know she’s two years older than me. She’s seen more of the world than I have, how could I possibly bully her?”

Given the close relationship between their families and their intertwined business dealings, Xie Cheng naturally sided with Chi Yi, while Chi Guangbo defended Xie Shaojun, saying she wouldn’t make such remarks lightly and asking Chi Yi if she had done something wrong.

Chi Yi smoothly took the out her father offered. She stepped closer to Xie Shaojun, her cool, elegant face suddenly inches away. Xie Shaojun caught the faint scent of red wine mixed with a hint of freesia.

With a faint smile, Chi Yi adopted a sincere tone and admitted her fault. Tilting her head slightly, she said, “Xie Shaojun, I’m sorry.”

“I shouldn’t have gone three years without coming back to see you. Can you give me a chance to explain?”

Xie Shaojun met Chi Yi’s amused gaze with a forced smile. Under the watchful eyes of everyone, she couldn’t refuse. Playing the part of the magnanimous one, she crossed her arms and said breezily, “Fine.”

“How do you plan to explain?”

The corners of Chi Yi’s eyes curved slightly as she replied without hesitation, “It’s simple, take me off your blacklist.”

“You were never on my blacklist,” Xie Shaojun said calmly, locking eyes with her.

The room fell silent. Chi Yi stopped speaking. The teasing glint in her eyes faded, replaced by a long, heavy silence, as if she needed confirmation. Her voice was hoarse when she finally asked, “So you saw all the messages I sent you these past three months…”

“Yeah,” Xie Shaojun nodded. “It’s exactly what you’re thinking.”

Since returning, Chi Yi had sent many messages.

Sometimes it was, The weather’s nice today. Went for a morning jog past No. 1 High. Uncle Chi mentioned you’ve been studying there these past three years. What’s high school like?

Other times: Gloomy weather. Work’s stalled.

Lately, it had turned into Good morning, good afternoon, good night.

And occasionally, late at night, a terse “Xie Shaojun” followed by a long, lingering ellipsis.

Xie Shaojun had seen them all. She’d read them, locked her phone, tossed it aside, torn up the ink-stained paper in front of her easel, and started a new painting.

For three months, she had asked nothing about Chi Yi’s return, hadn’t even inquired with her family. When she was younger, suppressing curiosity about someone hadn’t seemed so hard.

But now, suppressing curiosity about Chi Yi required Xie Shaojun to mute all her feelings good or bad toward her.

So they couldn’t be friends anymore.

Because this relationship, before it even began, had already taught Xie Shaojun how to say goodbye.

Chi Yi found Xie Shaojun utterly impervious to persuasion, a heart severed from love, and had no recourse left. The last trace of a smile faded from her lips, her expression as bleak as the sky at four in the morning, more bitter and awkward than the summer of their parting, when Xie Shaojun had told her she had someone she liked.

After the banquet, within just a week, Xie Shaojun crossed paths with Chi Yi twice more.

The most recent encounter was at the launch event for Chi Group’s new internet product. Xie Shaojun sat in the audience while Chi Yi stood on stage.

On the massive LED screen, Chi Yi wore an open-collared white suit, her hair tied in a low ponytail. Her appearance hadn’t changed much from her blue-and-white school uniform days years ago, but her aura had matured into that of a sophisticated woman.

As she introduced the latest product developed by Chi Inter, Chi Guangbo was surrounded by influential figures in the audience.

Praise poured in from all sides.

“Lao Chi, is your daughter really only twenty?”

“I heard this project was just the first research topic she worked on with her professor in New York. It’s unbelievable she achieved such success.”

“Not at all, not at all. When she returns to develop domestically, she’ll still need to learn from all you uncles.” Chi Guangbo spoke modestly, but his eyes and brows were brimming with pride.

Those around him only praised her more lavishly.

“So humble. When this internet company first listed in New York, it barely made a ripple. Who would’ve thought that in just three years, with your Chi Yi at the helm, collaborating with universities on AI research, she’d multiply its market value into a tidal wave?”

Chi Guangbo’s face was wreathed in smiles. “The family did lend some support. Chi Yi still has much to learn.”

A close acquaintance of his remarked bluntly, “Look at you, grinning ear to ear. Three years ago, how old was your daughter? Among the younger generation, she’s risen the fastest. You had the foresight to fully support her entrepreneurial ventures. Back then, Chi Group’s internal situation was dire, funds were tight yet you dared to back her research wholeheartedly before she even graduated. Truly remarkable ”

Xie Shaojun didn’t know whether Chi Guangbo had supported Chi Yi’s ventures, but she refused to credit Chi Yi’s current success to his careful nurturing.

At sixteen, Chi Yi had faced slander and stigma, powerless in that moment when her father had already abandoned her, fleeing abroad. He had sacrificed his daughter’s dignity and pride for a chance to regroup and stage a comeback.

That night, Chi Yi had stubbed out her cigarette, waiting only for a single “Happy Birthday” amid the rumors.

The stars hung in the sky, but no one remembered the loneliness of her fall.

Xie Shaojun didn’t want to remember either, so she gazed at Chi Yi with unmistakable pity a stark contrast to the admiration in everyone else’s eyes.

Perhaps her gaze was too blatant in its sympathy, because Chi Yi, mid-presentation, seemed to sense it. She lifted her lashes and glanced in Xie Shaojun’s direction. After a pause, the corners of her lips curved into a genuinely warm smile.

Xie Shaojun pretended not to see and immediately averted her eyes.

Beside her, Xie Qingcheng rubbed her arms, her face a picture of exaggerated shock.

“Was Chi Yi just smiling at me? Studying abroad really changes people, huh? That smile was so, sapphic.”

Xie Shaojun pulled her arm free from her sister’s grip, yawned, and said with disinterest, “Don’t know.”

“No idea.”

“We’re not close.”

The new product launch continued, with Chi Yi’s gentle yet firm voice filling the room unchanged from the tone she had used years ago when teaching Xie Shaojun to read, as she calmly and steadily presented the products she had brought back to the country over the past few years.

Xie Shaojun wasn’t interested in whatever the group of businesspeople in the front row were discussing. After saying a quick goodbye to Xie Qingcheng, she left midway through the event.

Outside the launch venue was a spacious exhibition hall. A hostess noticed Xie Shaojun walking out and handed her a cup of tea, then followed behind to provide explanations.

Inside the transparent display cases were a variety of intricate AI models.

“This is last year’s development, a guide dog designed to assist the visually impaired in navigating outdoors. Its AI program is named Shaoshao.”

Xie Shaojun’s steps faltered slightly. She turned and gave the small dog in the display case, indistinguishable from a real Pomeranian an inscrutable look.

After a long silence, a half-formed suspicion crossed her mind. Her expression darkened as she criticized, “What was the designer thinking? Doesn’t it seem like this robot dog has human-like eyes? If its owner woke up at night and saw it, they’d be scared to death.”

The hostess let out an awkward “Ah,” clearly unprepared for this line of questioning.

Forcing a smile, she struggled for a moment before mustering a defense for the product. The guide dog, she explained, was primarily intended for the visually impaired a public-service AI robot, so the likelihood of someone being startled by its gaze at night was nonexistent.

She added that the guide dog was currently the company’s top export model, and both its design concept and the data behind it were the work of the company’s chief designer, Miss Chi.

Xie Shaojun lifted her eyelids slightly and interrupted with a disarmingly pretty smile. “A twenty-year-old Miss Chi probably hasn’t read much, has she? Do me a favor and pass along a message: she should brush up on domestic copyright law. Putting human eyes on a dog is an infringement of intellectual property rights.”

The hostess froze under Xie Shaojun’s glare, her expression stiffening belatedly.

Xie Shaojun adjusted the strap of her crossbody bag, switching it to her left shoulder, then flicked imaginary dust off the crocodile leather with her right hand, as if she might pull out her phone at any moment to gather evidence. But in the end, she didn’t.

Under the hostess’s uneasy gaze, Xie Shaojun finally grew bored and amiably dismissed her. “Oh, don’t take it so seriously. Just a joke. You can go I’ll look around on my own.”

Once the staff member had left, Xie Shaojun, as if compelled by some obsessive need to check for similarly infuriating violations, methodically examined every model in the glass cases.

As an art student, she wasn’t deeply versed in model construction, but she had a keen eye for proportions. The AI models produced by Chi Corporation’s internet division struck her as unnervingly humanoid.

Given current technology, they were genuinely cutting-edge.

After scrutinizing each displayed model, though reluctant to praise Chi Yi, Xie Shaojun had to concede the highest compliment.

“Impressive.”

“What’s impressive?”

The voice came from slightly behind and to her right. Xie Shaojun had heard it earlier and for a long time in the past, that same voice had called her name at home, at school, in the car on the way to and from places.

“Xie Shaojun.”

She would always turn around immediately. But every time, no one was there.

This feeling filled Xie Shaojun with extreme annoyance, as if the memories of being with Chi Yi in the past had taken hold of her. What they taught her first was not happiness, but separation.

So when she heard that voice again in the empty exhibition hall, Xie Shaojun didn’t react.

Chi Yi called her name once more and asked, “Why are you here?”

She was already very close, her warm breath brushing against Xie Shaojun’s neck, carrying a faint scent of freesia laundry soap. It was like a thin, warm mist gently enveloping Xie Shaojun’s cheeks.

The bright overhead lights, hanging from the ornately decorated ceiling, forced Xie Shaojun to tilt her head back. From her slightly averted gaze, she met Chi Yi’s petal-like eyes.

Xie Shaojun instinctively narrowed her eyes. The harsh light created a blurry, grid-like haze in her vision. Chi Yi stood within the halo, her shadow behind her seemingly intertwined in an intimate embrace. At such close proximity, Xie Shaojun lost the composure she had feigned since their reunion.

She hopped back, pressing a hand against Chi Yi’s approaching shoulder to push her away.

Unexpectedly, Chi Yi, this madwoman didn’t resist at all. Instead, she let Xie Shaojun’s excessive force send her stumbling backward until her back slammed into the glass wall behind her. A sharp corner jabbed into her waist, and Chi Yi bent over with a drawn-out, pained inhale.

Xie Shaojun’s expression instantly darkened. For the first time since their reunion, anger seeped into her tone as she snapped, “Why didn’t you dodge? What the hell do you want ”

“I’m sorry.” Xie Shaojun roughly helped Chi Yi up, but before she could finish, Chi Yi cut her off.

Turning her face to look directly into Xie Shaojun’s eyes, she stubbornly asked, “What do I need to do for you to stop being angry?”

Xie Shaojun stared back for two seconds, at a loss for words.

Without answering, she wrapped an arm around Chi Yi’s waist and turned her around so her back faced her.

Underneath her jacket, Chi Yi was much thinner than before, her shoulders delicate, her waist arched like a supple willow branch. Xie Shaojun glanced at her and suddenly found it hard to proceed. But then she remembered the heavy thud of Chi Yi hitting the wall.

Steeling herself, she steadied her fingers and bunched up Chi Yi’s shirt like crumpled linen, pushing it above her waistline.

Chi Yi trembled, her back tensing instantly.

At first, Xie Shaojun didn’t feel awkward during the examination. But when Chi Yi glanced at her with reddened eyes, her gaze lingering as if she had something to say, her lashes like hooks, Xie Shaojun grew nervous in turn.

“We’re both girls. What are you looking at? It’s not like I’m going to do anything to you,” Xie Shaojun feigned calm, cursing inwardly. She reminded herself that Chi Yi probably didn’t know about her past crush, so there was no need to feel awkward.

Just as she managed to steady her emotions, Chi Yi fixed her with those reddened eyes again and told her not to curse.

Xie Shaojun:

“Turn your head away.”

Her tone softened unconsciously. “I’m just checking if your waist is injured. That hit earlier was pretty hard.”

Xie Shaojun added by way of explanation.

Silence fell again. After about thirty seconds, Chi Yi seemed to be in a slightly better mood, relaxing as her tone took on a strange note. Hunched slightly, she asked in a breathy voice, “So, how’s the examination going? Aren’t you going to ask me where it hurts?”

“Ah… oh. Sorry, this is my first time checking someone else’s injury. I’m not very good at it yet.”

These words seemed to please Chi Yi. The corners of her eyes curved slightly as she stared at Xie Shaoyun, making Xie Shaoyun’s cheeks flush. Xie Shaoyun herself didn’t even know what she was doing, she absentmindedly rubbed Chi Yi’s waist and asked, “Does it hurt here?”

“A little higher.”

“Lower.”

“Ah, wrong. It seems like it all hurts. Could you, rub it all for me?”