After Rebirth, I Became My Ex's "White Moonlight" - Chapter 44

Ji Yun woke up frozen from her sleep. Looking out the window, a light snow had already begun to fall. The photo of her and Cheng Siyu by the bed had gathered a layer of dust, and the winter pajamas that Cheng Siyu used to set out for her were no longer on the bed.

It had been two months since Cheng Siyu left; she had died in the rain that signaled the beginning of autumn.

Now, it seemed everyone’s life had returned to its normal track. She watched Shen Moxu winning awards for her movies on television and saw on social media that Cheng Hanyi had found a boyfriend.

She, too, should say goodbye to Cheng Siyu, but she couldn’t do it.

When she was on set, she would subconsciously look toward the entrance to see if Cheng Siyu’s figure was there to bring her a handmade bento.

When she tapped on her phone, she would subconsciously want to check her chat history with Cheng Siyu to see if she had shared a new delicacy she’d found, or if that “little brat” had dragged their slippers out again.

Even when meeting with Ji Yan, who now had a boyfriend, Ji Yun’s mind was filled with images of Cheng Siyu. Several times, out of habit, she mistook the person sitting in front of her for Cheng Siyu—until she spoke.

“Xiao Yun, why are you so distracted?”

At that moment, Ji Yun suddenly realized that this wasn’t Cheng Siyu. Cheng Siyu would never call her that.

For the first time, she understood what it felt like to miss someone who was dead; she hadn’t even felt this way when her own mother passed away.

Ji Yun gradually became despondent. She stopped going to film sets, rejected all work offers, and stayed in the home she had shared with Cheng Siyu.

The furnishings in the house remained exactly as they were; even the dog bed for the “little brat” hadn’t been moved an inch.

Many times, she sat on the living room floor getting dead drunk, and in her stupor, she could almost hear Cheng Siyu’s nagging voice.

“Little brat, look, your other mother is dead drunk again. Go bite her.”

Even though the “little brat” never dared to approach her after hearing those words, only staying by Cheng Siyu’s feet and whimpering.

Scenes she had once found utterly annoying had now become the very things she yearned for most.

Once again, she drank until her stomach bled and fainted in the living room. Ironically, it was Shen Moxu who found her this time; she had come over to retrieve something she had left behind when Cheng Siyu lived there.

Shen Moxu thought she would come during the day when Ji Yun should have been at the set to find her things. Instead, after using the key from Cheng Siyu’s belongings to open the door, she saw Ji Yun lying unconscious on the floor.

She originally intended to ignore her—in her eyes, someone like Ji Yun deserved to die a hundred times over—but finally, seeing the photo on the table of Cheng Siyu smiling brightly with Ji Yun, she dialed 120. She left with her things before the paramedics arrived.

When Ji Yun woke up again, she was in the hospital. She couldn’t remember when she had passed out or when the medics had carried her there.

However, she vaguely remembered that a woman had called the ambulance. Aside from herself, the only person with a key to that house was Cheng Siyu.

She’s lying to me, right? She’s just angry that I brought someone else home, right?

Following this thought, Ji Yun frantically searched the entire hospital for the operator who had taken the call, hoping to find a trace of Cheng Siyu’s existence.

But after searching for a long time, she found that the operator had already finished her shift. Ji Yun waited in the hospital until late at night for the operator to come back on duty, only to hear that the emergency call had been made from a roadside phone booth. The operator didn’t know who it was, only that it was a young woman.

The next day, Ji Yun went to Cheng Siyu’s grave and touched the photo of her grinning face on the headstone.

It was only then that Ji Yun realized in a daze: Cheng Siyu had once looked at her that way, but she had already lost that version of her.

“I’m sorry… I… I miss you so much.”

In front of the grave of the person she thought she would never fall for, Ji Yun broke down for the first time, looking as helpless as a child.

Later, Ji Yun walked for a long time along the road where Cheng Siyu’s body had been found. Along the way, she felt as if she could see the tracks left by Cheng Siyu dragging her suitcase.

Until she reached an intersection and saw the drainage ditch mentioned in the reports. She stood there in a trance, as if seeing the Cheng Siyu who had moved into her home with such high expectations upon her invitation.

Perhaps at that time, Cheng Siyu never imagined that her life would end on this very street a few years later.

Tears fell down Ji Yun’s cheeks. She didn’t remember why she fell in love with Cheng Siyu; it seemed that ever since she left, Ji Yun hadn’t had a single good night’s sleep, her dreams filled with nothing but that figure.

She had thought she would be happy to finally be rid of the “burden” and could indulge herself freely. In the end, she discovered that she was the one who couldn’t leave Cheng Siyu.

Ji Yun walked step by step along the road back to her apartment building. She saw that the garden downstairs was overgrown with weeds. This was the place Cheng Siyu had once meticulously cared for; now, it bore no resemblance to how it looked when she was there.

She returned home feeling lost. For some reason, she was afraid to go home; she was afraid to see a house covered in dust, afraid of the emptiness.

The elevator descended and opened in front of her. An old grandmother leaning on a cane walked out.

“Are you Xiao Yu’s friend? I haven’t seen her in a long time. Winter is here, and I’ve knitted a sweater for her. Could you give it to her for me?”

The grandmother handed a plastic bag to Ji Yun. Ji Yun had no memory of this old woman at all. Then she suddenly remembered Cheng Siyu telling her before that there was an elderly lady living alone on the second floor; when she walked the dog, the “little brat” would often run to her house. However, she didn’t mind the dog and even boiled eggs for him to eat.

“Xiao Yu… Xiao Yu went back to her hometown,” Ji Yun said, fighting back tears as she took the bag. “I will give it to her for you.”

“Yes, tell her to bring the little dog to my house more often. It’s been a while since I’ve woken up to the sound of a dog scratching at the door. I’m still not used to it.”

“Yes… okay, Grandma. I’m going up now.” Ji Yun covered her face and pressed the elevator button. The moment the doors closed, she looked at the pink sweater and burst into tears.

People only begin to cherish what they have after they lose it; she finally understood.

Half a month later, Ji Yun’s manager, Liu Jiani, discovered that Ji Yun—who had hated dogs since childhood—was keeping one at home.

Ji Yun hadn’t told her this. Liu Jiani had seen that Ji Yun had been silent for too long and wasn’t answering her phone. She couldn’t find her at her villa and only found out through inquiries that Ji Yun had been living here all along.

Ding-dong.

Ji Yun, whose eyes were vacant as she watched the puppy running around the living room, heard the doorbell after a long time. She was startled for a few seconds before standing up and staggering to open the door.

When she saw it was Liu Jiani, her expression darkened.

“What are you doing here?” Her voice sounded like a dried-up riverbed, nothing like the champion singer she once was. Her beauty remained, but her hair was like branches stripped of nutrients—dry and brittle.

“My little ancestor, I haven’t seen you in forever. Can’t I just come to see you?”

“Come in.”

After saying that, Ji Yun sat back down on the floor.

“How did you become like this?”

Liu Jiani looked at the environment, which was barely considered tidy, and then at Ji Yun sitting on the floor. At that moment, a puppy wagging its tail came to her feet and licked her shoes.

“Don’t you hate dogs the most?”

Previously on a film set, a dog that had wandered from nowhere had startled Ji Yun so much that she got angry and walked off the job that very day.

“My girlfriend likes them,” Ji Yun replied.

“Your girlfriend? I’ve never heard of you having a girlfriend.” Liu Jiani began to look around the house, only to find that aside from Ji Yun’s personal items, everything else was covered in a thick layer of dust, unused for a long time.

When she walked back to Ji Yun, she noticed a photo of two girls placed in front of her. One girl in the photo was smiling very brightly.

Liu Jiani thought for a long time before she found the face familiar. “Isn’t this that little lover of yours who used to go to the set every day to bring you food and get scolded by you? Where is she?”

“She’s dead. Two months ago, she died.” Ji Yun glanced at the calendar on the wall, a smile on her face that looked more painful than crying.

“Dead?”

Liu Jiani seemed to have found the reason for Ji Yun’s lethargy. She knelt down to comfort her. The usually proud and aloof Ji Yun leaned into her arms and wept bitterly.

“Jiani-jie… Siyu… Siyu doesn’t want me anymore. I… I lost her. I failed her.”

Ji Yun wailed in her arms. Liu Jiani patted her hair heart-wrenchingly, but she couldn’t find any words of comfort.

“Actually, that girl was a very good person. I remember once I said I wanted to try her rice balls, and she brought me two the very next day.”

She reminisced. In her memory, Cheng Siyu was very kind to Ji Yun and all the staff around her.

“How could such a good person just… be gone like that?”

She sighed as she looked at the photo. Ji Yun was already sobbing uncontrollably, and the puppy, as if sensing human heartache, ran to Ji Yun’s side and sat down obediently.

“I failed her… I failed her. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault. That child wouldn’t want to see you like this. Living well now is the best comfort for her.”

Standard comforting phrases came from Liu Jiani’s mouth, but to Ji Yun, they felt like needles stabbing her heart. Cheng Siyu probably didn’t want her to “live well.”

Would she hate me? Hate me for bringing a stranger to our home, and being with them in our bed? She would.

When exactly did she start to love Cheng Siyu? Why did she only realize it after she died?

Ji Yun remembered a day when she realized she no longer felt anything for Ji Yan. After that day, she started looking for all sorts of lovers. She thought she had moved on from that relationship that had placed a moral shackle on her.

After that, she also began to give Cheng Siyu the cold shoulder. It was from that moment that her heart must have been moved, wasn’t it? From then on, Cheng Siyu’s figure would appear in her eyes and mind constantly, and she would even call out her name in the middle of the night.

Ji Yun was in a daze. It turned out that she had fallen for Cheng Siyu from the very day she stopped feeling for Ji Yan. It was just that she had never noticed. She regretted it.

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry,” she continued to murmur.