After My Death, I Became a Heartless Madman - Chapter 50.1

The noble and proud scent of laurel seemed to carry a hint of redemption, gradually calming Song Shizhou’s flustered heart. Yet, in its wake came an inexplicable restlessness.

Her heart pounded wildly. Bai Ruowei’s warmth and fragrance brushed against her side, stirring a trace of intoxication within her.

Outside, the sound of rain began to fall without warning a soft, gentle spring shower typical of March or April, soothing against the skin. The bay window in the bedroom had been left open, and a few raindrops slipped through the beige curtains, landing on the back of Song Shizhou’s hand.

The cool touch startled her, and she instinctively pulled away from Miss Bai’s embrace.

A pale hand rested on her waist, and a jade-like neck lifted slightly. The woman paused, seemingly dazed.

Song Shizhou lowered her head.

Suppressed emotions clogged her chest, leaving her momentarily at a loss for words.

The next second, she smiled bitterly and mockingly.

Because the very person who had selflessly offered her solace in her panic was also the one who had hurt her the deepest.

Fragments of the past surged into her mind like tangled threads, chaotic and unannounced, filling her thoughts, happy and unhappy, bittersweet and joyful. But when she looked back from the end, she suddenly realized that the memories of betrayal outnumbered the rest.

Perhaps it was because she and Miss Bai had been entangled for too long. Perhaps it was because Miss Bai had occupied too significant a place in her heart. Even though she was someone who tended to forget and stay optimistic, even though so much time had passed, she could still be so easily overwhelmed by the memories.

“Deep affection does not endure.” She should have understood this principle best after all, she was the perfect example. Maybe it was because of the recent power outage, but the electricity in the room was unstable, and the overhead fluorescent light buzzed faintly.

It only deepened the loneliness.

The cool laurel fragrance brushed against her side, tempting her to sink deeper, to lose herself. Bai Ruowei slowly stood up and gently wiped the raindrops from the back of her hand.

“Shi Zhou, what’s wrong?”

The familiar address carried a hint of concern, but to Song Shizhou, it only swelled into a sour, suffocating ache.

The corner of Song Shizhou’s mouth twitched as she pulled her hand away. Yet the laurel scent seemed to linger, though the warmth vanished in an instant. She paused, her expression unreadable.

“Nothing.”

“I just suddenly remembered something from before.”

She didn’t say it outright didn’t say, I remembered the hurtful memories from our past life. But Bai Ruowei’s heart still clenched with foreboding.

Confronting their past, the mistakes she had made, it wasn’t something particularly difficult for her. She had never tried to escape or deny them. But what had always terrified her, what she dared not recall, was the consequence those piled-up mistakes pointed to.

The consequence of losing Song Shizhou completely.

Her face instantly paled, her lips still flushed and damp from illness standing out starkly, beautiful yet sharp and eerie.

Even her voice was unusually hoarse.

She didn’t dare ask what Song Shizhou had remembered, yet she didn’t dare not ask.

“Was it from our past life?”

Song Shizhou wanted to nod, but seeing Bai Ruowei’s haggard expression, she couldn’t help but soften.

Her brows furrowed slightly, as if unwilling to continue this topic.

“It’s late now. You should get some sleep.”

Her tone was decisive.

Unfortunately, it was decisively rejecting.

The woman’s expression grew distant and cold again, as if that fleeting moment of emotion had never existed. Bai Ruowei’s heart couldn’t help but tighten. Her slender fingers lingered on Song Shizhou’s wrist, as if she still wanted to press further, but then she hesitated, unsure what to even ask.

This hesitant demeanor only irritated Song Shizhou more. Yet, Song Shizhou merely paused for a second before ruthlessly shaking off her hand.

Bai Ruowei’s gaze flickered, as if she had long anticipated this cold treatment, and her expression settled back into calm indifference.

“Alright, I understand.”

“Thank you for letting me stay tonight.”

The bowl of medicine on the table had gone cold. Perhaps she should brew another packet of fever-reducing powder. Song Shizhou’s expression shifted slightly, but in the end, she made no move.

The door opened and closed. In an instant, the once-warm room turned chilly not just the guest room, but the master bedroom even more so.

After a quick wash, Song Shizhou lay down on the bed.

A small nightlight glowed softly on the bedside table. She buried her face in the blanket, strands of dark hair falling against her cheeks.

Her fingertips still carried a faint trace of osmanthus fragrance, so even after leaving Miss Bai, her expression remained weary and lost.

She hadn’t deliberately brought up the past during such a tender moment it was just that memories surged forth without warning, flooding her mind with moments spent with Bai Ruowei, weighing her heart down with an inexplicable heaviness and confusion.

It made her unwilling to simply drown in Bai Ruowei’s gentleness.

Her thoughts drifted aimlessly, growing increasingly scattered, when Sun Mengchen suddenly called.

She answered the phone. Sun Mengchen, straightforward as ever, skipped the pleasantries and got straight to the point.

“I heard you still haven’t found a suitable studio. Any luck yet?”

Work matters pulled her out of her brooding thoughts. Song Shizhou sighed.

“Not yet. I plan to check out a few more commercial streets these next few days.”

“The ones near Houhai are all too established. There are hardly any shops for rent, and even if there are, the locations and sizes aren’t great.”

That was why it had taken her so long.

Sun Mengchen clicked her tongue.

“Starting a business is always tough at first. Push through this phase, and it’ll get better.”

She sent Song Shizhou an address.

“Have you been here yet?”

Song Shizhou glanced at her phone.

“Tangshui Alley.”

The name was unfamiliar. She thought for a moment she had seen it recently on a video app. It was supposed to be a traditional-themed commercial street, still under development, so foot traffic was low.

“Exactly,” Sun Mengchen continued.

“You’re new to this, so there’s a lot you don’t know yet. The commercial streets you’ve been visiting Houhai, Songmo, they’ve been around for years. Their brands and business districts are already well-established. Who’d give up a prime spot like that easily?”

“But Tangshui Alley is different. I heard it’ll be fully developed next month. New commercial streets are always busiest in the first two months after opening.”

“Just think of it as an investment. Besides, a commercial street with a traditional Chinese theme would pair well with a porcelain studio.”

Song Shizhou nodded, finding her reasoning sound.

“Alright, sis. I’ll go check it out tomorrow.”

Sun Mengchen acknowledged with a hum.

“By the way, Shi Zhou.”

“I’ve heard your relationship with your family hasn’t been great.”

Sun Mengchen scratched her head.

“Starting a business is hard enough as it is. You need to stay steady now and not let others affect your mood.”

Song Shizhou paused, surprised by the sudden concern.

“It’s fine, Mengchen-jie. I know what I’m doing.”

Sun Mengchen replied,

“That’s good then.”

“Your family mainly deals in the hotel business and doesn’t pay much attention to other ventures. But the way your mother treats you.”

“If you want to do porcelain, you need to be resolute and not let your family influence you.”

Song Shizhou smiled.

“My family doesn’t interfere with what I do. Even if they did, they couldn’t sway my decisions.”

Sun Mengchen’s tone turned somewhat indifferent.

“That’s for the best.”

“You’re still too young. I’m in my thirties now, started from sales in the company. A few years ago, I thought I’d seen it all and experienced every kind of nastiness. Now, I wouldn’t dare say that.”

“Shi Zhou, since you’ve already made up your mind, don’t dwell on that matter you asked me about last time.”

Song Shizhou hesitated, taking a long moment to realize what Sun Mengchen was referring to.

Her reaction was so delayed that the phone line had already gone dead by the time she processed it.

She had indeed wanted to understand why Miss Bai was so contradictory before. But after these past few days together, she felt the answer no longer mattered. She could see Bai Ruowei’s efforts, her remorse.

Yet her heart remained heavy.

Perhaps because wounds heal with time but leave ugly scars behind. For a moment, Song Shizhou felt strangely dazed she almost wished Bai hadn’t changed, so she could simply hate her.

Just hate her, nothing more.

After the call ended, any hope of sleep vanished. She distractedly searched for information about Sweetwater Lane on her phone instead.

Work distracted her from those wandering thoughts. She agreed with Sun Mengchen opening a porcelain studio shared similarities with running a restaurant. First, consider location and foot traffic. Second, assess customer spending power. Third, check for nearby competitors.

Though Pine Ink and Back Lake commercial streets had high foot traffic and affluent customers, they already housed two or three porcelain studios. As a newcomer, Song Shizhou would struggle to establish herself quickly.

Given the traditional Chinese theme, Sweetwater Lane was indeed an ideal location for her studio.

She spent the entire night researching locations, channeling her melancholy into productivity. Consequently, she barely slept, yet woke the next morning feeling surprisingly refreshed, without any fatigue.

She discussed last night’s ideas with Sun Mengchen and decided to set out soon to scout for studio spaces. Bai Ruowei sat neatly dressed on the sofa, fragments of their conversation drifting to her ears, stirring something in her heart.

When Song Shizhou hung up, Miss Bai reverted to her usual quiet demeanor.

Her complexion looked much better than last night, the unnatural flush from the high fever had completely faded. Miss Bai had a strong constitution just one night was enough for the fever to break.

She didn’t know how long she had been waiting there, but the moment she heard Song Shizhou’s footsteps, those indifferent pale green eyes immediately lifted.

Song Shizhou tilted her face slightly, avoiding her gaze, and asked,

“Are you feeling better?”

Bai Ruowei was taken aback, not expecting her first words to be concern.

“I’m alright,” she replied faintly.

“The fever’s gone.”

“Thank you for bringing me back yesterday.”

Song Shizhou nodded.

“It’s fine.”

She had already thanked her once last night, but for some reason, she repeated it again. Perhaps it was because she felt a little awkward. Miss Bai’s back was straight, as rigid as bamboo, the clean lines of her white shirt hanging elegantly. But upon closer inspection, one could detect a slight tremble.

She was nervous.

“When is Mia coming to pick you up?”

Bai Ruowei didn’t answer the question directly.

“The person who called you earlier was that your business partner?”

Song Shizhou nodded.

“Something like that.”

Miss Bai let out a soft “oh.”

Her expression seemed conflicted.

“I didn’t mean to eavesdrop on your conversation. If you’re looking for a studio, I can help.”

She rarely offered assistance so eagerly, which was why her words came out stiff and awkward.

Song Shizhou shook her head.

“The studio issue is already resolved.”

Perhaps because a major worry had finally been lifted from her mind, she seemed in good spirits, even willing to share more.

“I was really struggling with it a few days ago, but I’ve already found a suitable commercial street.”

“It’s called Tangshui Lane. I don’t know if you’ve heard of it.”

“Tangshui Lane?”

Bai Ruowei froze.

Once again, she hadn’t been of any help.

Her eyes lowered deeply, and a sour feeling instantly spread through her heart.

She used to think she was omnipotent in front of Song Shizhou, capable of solving any difficulty for her. But in their past life, she clearly hadn’t managed it. Now, heaven had given her a chance to make amends, yet even something as small as helping her find a studio she still couldn’t do it.

Bai Ruowei’s eyes drooped slightly as she muttered, “Alright then.”

She sat back on the sofa, lost in thought.

“You can just drop me off at Tangshui Lane later. I’ll have Mia pick me up there. That way, I won’t take up any more of your time.”

Her words were polite and considerate, but her tone carried a thick undercurrent of grievance, as if it might spill over at any moment.

Tangshui Lane wasn’t far, and since it was already past the morning rush hour, they arrived quickly. Song Shizhou parked the car in the lot.

The parking area was open-air, with a warm breeze carrying the scent of flowers. Yet Miss Bai shivered slightly, as if chilled.

“Mia won’t be here for a while.”

“She’s been busy lately, so she might be late.”

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