After My Death, I Became a Heartless Madman - Chapter 27.2

“Originally, I wanted to name you Ruowei, but Mia said no.” She asked, ‘How could your daughter be insignificant and small?’ So, we added the grass radical Wei, like a rose. More fitting for a girl’s name.”

Bai Ruowei remained silent, her eyes still lowered.

“The other children always step forward to help when I prepare tea. Only you prefer to stand and watch never speaking, never acting.”

Mr. Bai leisurely wiped his hands.

“That’s what I like most about you. I’ve studied tea preparation since my youth, yet my skill remains rudimentary. What do those children know?”

“You don’t flatter, you don’t overstep. Good. Very fitting for a Chief Inspector.”

Bai Ruowei smiled faintly.

“I’m just clumsy. I don’t know how to prepare tea.”

Mr. Bai laughed heartily.

“Mia told me you’ve gone mad.”

Mr. Bai was always like this talking about the sun one moment, then suddenly the moon. If you couldn’t follow or faltered, he would grow displeased. And if he was displeased.

It was like a knife.

Gutting you open.

Mr. Bai’s eyes gleamed.

“Because of one person.”

Mia, standing by the door, broke into an inexplicable cold sweat.

Mia would never betray Bai Ruowei behind her back, she was Bai Ruowei’s most loyal dog. So Miss Bai knew Mr. Bai was merely using Mia’s name to express his dissatisfaction.

Bai Ruowei said nothing.

This attitude was tacit approval. Mr. Bai knew his adopted daughter had always been sparing with words and didn’t expect any pleasantries from her.

“I won’t interfere with who you like or want.”

Mr. Bai smiled.

“But don’t let it affect the normal operations of the Surveillance Institute.”

With this promise, Bai Ruowei’s sweat-drenched hands slowly relaxed.

“Yes, I understand, Father.”

“I’ll be more measured in my actions from now on.”

Hearing this, Mr. Bai’s expression softened.

He poured Bai Ruowei a cup of tea, which she accepted.

“You’ve caused quite a stir, Bai Ruowei. You must really like her.”

Bai Ruowei paused.

“Yes, Father. I like her very much.”

He pressed further.

“What about her?”

Bai Ruowei froze.

Mr. Bai repeated with a smile,

“I mean, what do you like about her?”

There had to be a reason, right? He had heard some things about what happened in District 14. Mr. Bai wanted to know what could drive Bai Ruowei to such obsession and madness.

Bai Ruowei hesitated.

“I like her…”

She scrambled for an answer in her mind.

Mr. Bai’s gaze made her thoughts transparent, could he read minds too? Perhaps Mia’s mind-reading skills had been taught by him. Bai Ruowei thought for so long that even Mr. Bai found it strange.

Was answering what she liked about someone really this difficult?

Did his usually decisive daughter need to deliberate this much, to struggle so painfully?

By the time Bai Ruowei left, she still hadn’t given Mr. Bai a satisfactory answer.

He didn’t like this, he disliked people hiding things from him, or acting clever in his presence.

Outside the door, Mia was nearly frantic with worry. But the next second, a loud thud echoed in their ears.

Bai Ruowei collapsed to her knees before Mr. Bai, strength drained from her body.

Mr. Bai was startled. Though their adoptive father-daughter relationship was superficial, he wasn’t the type to relish seeing his children grovel to assert his authority. His power was already vast, he had no need to seek superiority over Bai Ruowei.

Especially since this daughter of his had always been strong-willed, enduring severe injuries without a whimper. Yet now, her face was twisted in pain, her forehead slick with cold sweat.

Bai Ruowei’s lips were pale, her body barely able to stay upright.

“Father, I haven’t been feeling well these past few days. Please allow me… to take my leave.”

Mr. Bai nodded and called for a few attendants to escort her out.

Then Mia entered.

“What’s wrong with her?”

Mia shook her head.

She didn’t know either.

The two exchanged bewildered glances before Mr. Bai finally relented with a sigh.

“Ah, fine. Let’s leave her be for now.”

“How much does Bai Ruowei know about Lan Chi?”

Mia thought for a moment.

“Miss Bai is very considerate. She knows I don’t want to discuss Lan Chi with her, so she’s never asked.”

Mr. Bai chuckled.

“You’re really that protective of her? It wouldn’t hurt for her to know. These past few years, her hands haven’t been clean either. She should experience the gravity of life-and-death decisions, learn what happens to those who betray the organization.”

Mia trembled slightly.

Because of that incident fifteen years ago, a deep scar was left in Mia’s heart, still as vivid today as if it were yesterday.

Lan Chi, then a member of the Council, defected from the organization, and everyone connected to her was killed.

Her assistant, her friends, how many like Li Ningzhi and Mia, all fell under Mr. Bai’s blade.

Yesterday’s closest friends became today’s enemies and executioners.

A thick fog of fear permeated the Surveillance Institute, today it was your death, tomorrow it would be mine. No one knew when the sword hanging over their heads would drop.

If you were of no use to Mr. Bai, or if you defected from the organization,

the only outcome was death.

Everyone would be purged.

“You’re the only survivor of that incident, so of course you must help me keep an eye on Bai Ruowei make sure she doesn’t do anything reckless.”

Mr. Bai patted her shoulder.

“You trust me so much… I don’t even know…”

Mr. Bai laughed heartily.

“You adored Lan Chi back then, and she trusted you so much. Yet, to survive, you still betrayed her.”

That day, Bai Ruowei had been right about everything except for one thing.

Lan Chi was never her replacement.

Lan Chi’s identity was special, important enough for Mia to personally step forward and restrain her. The townsfolk wore expressions of reluctance, and a few young men seemed ready to act, but Lan Chi’s gaze darkened, signaling them to stand down.

Mia silently fastened the handcuffs around her wrists.

“Long time no see, Mia.”

Lan Chi smiled beautifully.

“You’ve found a new master, how wonderful. But tell me, are you still wearing the collar I gave you?”

After leaving the Council, Bai Ruowei felt unwell. Mia wasn’t by her side, and neither was Li Ningzhi. Gu Zhiyu brought her a cloak and helped her into the car.

“Miss Bai, you look pale. Should I notify Doctor Lin?”

Bai Ruowei shook her head.

“No need.”

“Mia must have been detained by Mr. Bai at the Council. Should we head back first?”

Bai Ruowei nodded.

Snow rarely fell in the Inner City.

This was a natural paradise, where the intoxicating scent of luxury filled every corner, keeping the Inner City warm and humid, untouched by snow all year round.

But today, the Inner City was graced with a rare snowfall.

It had been the same on the day Song Shizhou died.

She still remembered that day, rushing back in a panic from the Thirteenth District, standing in the cold morgue, surrounded by a crowd gathered around that person’s bed. She remembered her trembling hands, her unsteady steps, the grief that shattered her heart.

How dare she die.

How dare she leave without a word.

Bai Ruowei sat in the backseat of the car, the neon lights flickering across her face like rippling water. She looked down, dazedly staring at her hands as if they were drenched in blood,

that person’s blood.

Gu Zhiyu glanced at the rearview mirror but didn’t dare speak.

Because he thought he heard Miss Bai’s stifled sobs.

It was already 2 a.m., and even the Snow Pavilion had quieted down, the world seemingly submerged in a vast, desolate chill. The Snow Pavilion was remote, no pedestrians, no vehicles.

Gu Zhiyu turned to look at her.

“Miss Bai, shall we return to the Snow Couch or go to the Ink Residence?”

Bai Ruowei paused, forcing her voice to sound as natural as possible.

“Take me back to the Snow Couch.”

The Snow Couch was Miss Bai’s residence, its interior decorated in a minimalist style. Gu Zhiyu parked the car at the entrance and opened the door for Miss Bai.

Bai Ruowei stepped out of the car and pushed open the front door. A faint musty scent wafted from within.

She couldn’t remember how long it had been since she last returned.

Back in the small house they used to live in, there would always be a light left on for her. The moment she opened the door, the aroma of home-cooked meals would greet her.

Then Song Shizhou would come out and ask what she had been busy with lately, why she had disappeared for so long again.

Bai Ruowei sat on the sofa. The room was unlit, everything shrouded in darkness.

Now, there was nothing left.

About an hour later, without calling for anyone to follow, she walked step by step toward the Ink Residence.

The Snow Couch was some distance from the Ink Residence. The cold, rigid shrubs dampened Bai Ruowei’s clothes, chilling her to the bone. The branches whipped against her skin, stinging slightly, but it was bearable, just something to endure.

By the time she reached the Ink Residence, her shoes and socks were thoroughly soaked, leaving a trail of wet footprints behind. Qingluan was startled by her sudden appearance.

Bai Ruowei raised a finger to her lips in a gesture for silence.

Through the transparent glass, one could glimpse the interior, but Bai Ruowei didn’t need to look. Even through the wooden door, her heightened hearing allowed her to detect Song Shizhou’s steady breathing.

And her heartbeat.

So calm and strong.

In truth, Mr. Bai’s question wasn’t one she couldn’t answer.

Tears streamed down Bai Ruowei’s cheeks as she wiped them away. She didn’t understand why she had become so prone to crying lately.

Why couldn’t she just give any answer? That she liked her face, her voice, the way she made her feel, anything at all would suffice. Yet Bai Ruowei found herself unable to speak, her mind utterly blank.

She couldn’t articulate it. She had no answer.

Perhaps she needed more time, Bai Ruowei thought. Maybe she was just too exhausted lately, or perhaps she simply enjoyed having Song Shizhou by her side. Maybe she had been suppressing too much and needed to rest, to think this through properly.

That night at the rest stop, Song Shizhou’s mocking voice seemed to echo in her ears again, that derisive chuckle that had chilled her heart. Bai Ruowei didn’t know who she was speaking to, but she began murmuring the same words over and over.

Leaning against the wooden door, she sat on the ground without a care for appearances, her fingers tracing circles on the doorframe.

“Song Shizhou, say you won’t leave me.”

“Say you won’t deceive me.”

“Say you’ll be like before.”

Bai Ruowei paused, then repeated the words that had gone unanswered.

“Love me.”

In her daze, dawn seemed to break. Bai Ruowei struggled to her feet, only to see Song Shizhou approaching from afar.

As usual, she stood beside her, her gaze tinged with tenderness.

Bai Ruowei reached out to her, but Song Shizhou didn’t take her hand.

Instead, she crouched down, meeting Bai Ruowei’s eyes as she wiped away her tears.

“Miss Bai,”

Hearing her name spoken so softly, Bai Ruowei looked up, her long lashes damp, her expression utterly pitiful.

“But neither companionship nor habit can be considered love or affection.”

The illusory words struck Bai Ruowei like a blade, piercing straight through her heart.

The figure before her vanished instantly. Bai Ruowei scrambled to her feet, frantically looking toward the bedroom.

Song Shizhou lay peacefully asleep in bed.

Had it all been a dream?

…Thank goodness it was just a dream.

Miss Bai couldn’t help but feel relieved, a smile of survival breaking across her face. But the next second, that smile froze.

If she still couldn’t see the truth in her own heart, what right did she have to stand before Song Shizhou?

Mini Theater:

Xiao Song: Miss Bai, can habit and companionship really be called love?

Bai Ruowei: I choose the obtuse angle.

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