After Rebirth, I Became My Ex's "White Moonlight" - Chapter 7

“I’m sorry.”

Following a feverish kiss thick with the scent of alcohol, a half-dreaming, half-awake Cheng Siyu opened her eyes. She sat back and looked at Ji Yun, but it was as if she were looking through Ji Yun’s eyes at someone else entirely.

Ji Yun was still dazed, her face flushing a deep crimson. Fortunately, everyone else was engrossed in loud conversation, and no one had noticed the farce unfolding in the corner.

“I’m drunk,” Cheng Siyu said, turning to give Shen Moxu a brief explanation before standing up to leave.

The alcohol continued to erode her brain, dragging up memories of the past. She wasn’t sure if she could stay by Ji Yun’s side without doing something even more out of line.

Cheng Siyu, it’s time to let go, she muttered to herself. But the moment she stood up, she couldn’t help but look back at Ji Yun. As her gaze met Ji Yun’s, a single tear escaped from the corner of her eye and fell.

“Why didn’t you bring Little Rascal out?”

The moment she saw Ji Yun, Ji Yan blurted out the question. It was only then that Ji Yun remembered that Little Rascal was the golden retriever puppy Ji Yan had given her for her twentieth birthday.

Because Ji Yun had been bitten by several wolves her father kept when she was a child, she had a psychological shadow regarding dogs. However, because it was a gift from Ji Yan, she had decided to give it to Cheng Siyu to raise. Of course, she never explained that the dog was a gift from Ji Yan; even the name “Little Rascal” was given by Cheng Siyu after the dog arrived at her house.

But Little Rascal had passed away from gastroenteritis a few months ago. Cheng Siyu had called her late that night, but Ji Yun was at a banquet. By the time the banquet ended and she returned the call, Cheng Siyu’s voice on the other end was hoarse from crying.

“Little Rascal is gone. He just passed away at the hospital during emergency treatment. I’m sorry I didn’t let you see him one last time.”

Ji Yun wasn’t particularly fond of dogs to begin with, but hearing Cheng Siyu cry so heart-wrenchingly, she offered to spend money to buy her another one later. Cheng Siyu had refused, asking only for Ji Yun to come and stay with her.

Ji Yun had been happy to oblige. Cheng Siyu’s home was comfortable in every way, except for the presence of the animal she disliked—even though Cheng Siyu cleaned meticulously every time. Now, the only barrier between them was gone.

“Little Rascal died of gastroenteritis a few months ago.”

“Oh, I see. Your girlfriend must have been very sad,” Ji Yan remarked. She had received many photos of the girlfriend and the puppy from Ji Yun, often accompanied by daily little essays.

What Ji Yun hadn’t told her was that those things were sent to Ji Yun by Cheng Siyu; Ji Yun herself never appeared in any of those photos.

“It was… alright,” Ji Yun brushed the topic aside. She didn’t want to talk about anything related to Cheng Siyu right now.

“Where’s your boyfriend?” Ji Yun noticed Ji Yan was alone, harboring a secret hope that the two had fought, or perhaps that the boyfriend didn’t exist at all.

“He’s looking for a parking spot. Let me call and ask,” Ji Yan’s words completely extinguished the small flicker of hope in Ji Yun’s heart.

“Oh, no need to call, he’s here.”

A second later, Ji Yun saw a blond man in a suit walk in through the door. He walked straight to Ji Yan’s side, and Ji Yan naturally tucked her arm into his. They looked like a perfect match, but in Ji Yun’s eyes, it was a painful sight.

The reservation had been made in advance, and the three of them slowly took their seats.

“I want the seafood fennel pasta,” Ji Yan said before even opening the menu. Hearing her words, Ji Yun looked at her, momentarily dazed.

“I want the tomato meat sauce pasta.”

It was as if she were seeing Cheng Siyu’s shadow through Ji Yan’s face; her fingers trembled slightly.

“Xiao Yun, what are you thinking about? Oh right, didn’t you have a fight with your girlfriend? Tell me about it, I’ll help you strategize.”

Ji Yan had a gossipy look in her eyes. In her impression, Ji Yun’s girlfriend was someone who loved life. She had always looked forward to meeting Cheng Siyu to talk about their experiences raising dogs.

“Don’t mention her…” Ji Yun’s expression darkened. She had thought that seeing Ji Yan would allow her to briefly cast Cheng Siyu aside, but it was the opposite. Looking at Ji Yan’s face, her mind was filled only with Cheng Siyu’s image.

The next day, Cheng Siyu woke up in her dorm bed. The hangover from her binge drinking hit her, and as she tried to sit up, a wave of dizziness forced her back down.

Fragments of memory surged into her mind. She seemed to have kissed Ji Yun, but the memory was so blurred that she couldn’t tell if it was a dream or reality.

Just then, her phone rang. She answered it; it was from the film crew. They had found a new male lead and wanted them to come in and reshoot the scenes that Shan Xiyuan hadn’t finished.

Exhausted as she was, she agreed. She washed up briefly and got ready. The moment she stepped out the door, the image of Ji Yun kissing her surfaced again. She shook her head. Ji Yun wasn’t the type to lose control after drinking. It was probably just a dream, she thought—though it was tragic that even in her dreams, she couldn’t let go.

Soon, Cheng Siyu arrived at the set. The new male lead was a gentle and modest upperclassman. She had seen him a few times but wasn’t well-acquainted with him. After greeting him, they began to chat.

The new lead’s name was Wen Zhiluo, a minor celebrity at school. Rumor had it he was the son of a big star, though he always kept a low profile.

While they talked, the rest of the crew arrived, including Shen Moxu and Ji Yun. Shen Moxu seemed to know Wen Zhiluo and quickly joined the conversation, while Ji Yun sat down quite a distance away from them.

“Chi Li and Ye Xingyue, come out for a moment,” the director called out using their character names for convenience.

As soon as the director spoke, Ji Yun and Wen Zhiluo walked out, leaving Shen Moxu and Cheng Siyu in the room.

The moment the door to the lounge closed, the little chatterbox Shen Moxu began whispering to Cheng Siyu.

“Hey, did you know? After you left yesterday, Shan Xiyuan went to the private room too.”

“I didn’t know,” Cheng Siyu replied.

“Gosh, I knew you wouldn’t. The school forums are going crazy. He confessed to Ji Yun in front of everyone. Ji Yun was so scared she kept clutching my hand.”

“Is… is that so?” Cheng Siyu replied flatly. She wasn’t interested in such things, especially when they involved Ji Yun.

“Guess if she said yes?” “No.”

The word slipped out of Cheng Siyu’s mouth instinctively. She knew Ji Yun too well. Ji Yun was fastidious; very few women ever caught her eye, let alone someone as arrogant as Shan Xiyuan. The only reason she herself had been kept by Ji Yun’s side for so long was merely because she was basking in “that person’s” light.

Cheng Siyu didn’t know that person’s name, but she had seen her once. It was shortly after graduation. Ji Yun had suddenly mentioned she had an event to attend. At the same time, a classmate secretly told her that Ji Yun had quietly booked a table at a certain five-star restaurant.

She had thought Ji Yun was preparing a surprise for her. She waited expectantly for a call, even wearing the scarf Ji Yun had given her. But by eight in the evening, there was no news. Unable to wait any longer, Cheng Siyu walked to the vicinity of the restaurant, hoping to run into her. After waiting a long time without a word, she finally called.

“Hello?” The phone rang for a long time before being picked up. It was noisy on the other end, like a crowded place. Then came Ji Yun’s impatient voice.

“Where are you?” Cheng Siyu asked cautiously.

“Didn’t I tell you I’m at an event? I’m busy, don’t call again.”

The next second, the line went dead. Cheng Siyu didn’t even have time to ask another question. However, just as she was shrinking into herself to head back to the dorm, she saw a figure she knew all too well. It was Ji Yun—but standing next to her was a woman.

At that moment, Ji Yun’s expression was nothing like the impatience she’d shown on the phone. Instead, her eyes were filled with a love and tenderness that Cheng Siyu had never seen directed at herself.

The next day, she waited for Ji Yun downstairs at her apartment and questioned her about the deception.

“That was my cousin. she’s been living abroad and just suddenly came back yesterday.” Looking at the agitated Cheng Siyu, Ji Yun was uncharacteristically gentle for once. Then, as if afraid Cheng Siyu wouldn’t believe her, she took out a family photo to show her.

“I’m sorry, I misunderstood you.”

Seeing the photo, Cheng Siyu only felt the embarrassment of a misunderstanding cleared up. She didn’t notice that the person in the photo looked sixty percent like her, nor did she wonder why Ji Yun had hidden the truth. Moreover, the look in Ji Yun’s eyes as she watched her had become very complex.

It was only later that she realized that because she was a cousin, Ji Yun wasn’t afraid of being found out. What lay buried beneath was precisely because of this surface-level relationship, making it difficult for others to detect.

“Siyu, I think that Wen Zhiluo seems to have a thing for you.”

Shen Moxu’s words broke Cheng Siyu’s reverie. She snapped back to reality.

“Really? I don’t think so,” Cheng Siyu replied.

“How can you say that? He was all smiles when talking to you just now. That’s the first time I’ve seen him initiate a conversation with someone.”

As they spoke, Ji Yun and Wen Zhiluo returned. Shen Moxu tactfully dropped the subject.

Without Shan Xiyuan, the set was free of further drama. The second day of filming went smoothly and ended quickly.

The only surprise was that after filming, Ji Yun handed Shen Moxu three tickets. They were for Qin Xiangqing’s movie premiere—not just regular tickets, but premiere tickets that included a meet-and-greet with the star.

“Wow! Ji Yun, where did you get these? I saw scalpers selling them for five figures and couldn’t bring myself to buy them.” Taking the tickets, Shen Moxu hugged Ji Yun and gave her a big kiss on the cheek.

“My mom happened to have a collaboration with the organizer this time. He asked if I wanted them, so I took them.”

“I love you, my Xiao Ji,” Shen Moxu said, then looked at Cheng Siyu, asking tentatively, “You’ll come with me, right?”

As Shen Moxu spoke, Ji Yun also cast a tentative glance toward Cheng Siyu. After a long silence, Cheng Siyu finally looked at Ji Yun.

“Don’t you have claustrophobia? You can’t watch movies.”