After Redeeming the Female Lead, I Faked My Death and Escaped - Chapter 24.2

Xu Ying had never seen Gu Qingzhu by herself. She couldn’t even imagine the consequences. Without hesitation, she grabbed her things and rushed downstairs.

Just as her door clicked shut, another elevator slid open.

The interior was spotless. Sheng Qiuyu lowered her sunglasses slightly, double-checking that every strand of her hair was perfectly in place before stepping out, satisfied.

Behind her, a uniformed woman wearing a mask pushed her luggage with a polite smile. The woman’s hair was tucked neatly under a cap, but her upturned eyes, the moment Sheng Qiuyu saw them, she was struck by how much they resembled Xu Ying’s. It made her inexplicably fond.

Thinking of Xu Ying, Sheng Qiuyu’s mood brightened further. She casually pulled out a bill as a tip.

A gloved hand accepted the money, and a gentle voice spoke.

“Thank you, Miss Sheng.”

“Qingzhu.”

Gu Qingzhu opened her eyes in the dream.

Summer greenery surrounded her, the air thick with heat, everything blurred except for the vague silhouette of a woman standing before her. Only her face was clear shy, smiling.

“I know it’s all my fault.”

“I don’t want you getting hurt because of me.”

“I won’t blame you.”

The twenty-first time. Gu Qingzhu jolted awake.

Her back was drenched in cold sweat. She checked the time only five minutes had passed.

This was her twenty-first attempt to sleep in the past week. Each time, she managed only a few minutes of restless slumber. Like an endless nightmare, twenty-one times, Xu Ying’s face had haunted her dreams.

Gu Qingzhu could barely sleep, barely eat. A week of this had left her complexion ghostly pale.

For a moment, the only sound in the empty bedroom was her own ragged breathing.

After a long silence, once she had steadied herself, she reached for the book on the table.

After the car accident, Gu Qingzhu had hired a professional team to surveil Xu Ying around the clock, hoping to uncover evidence of a crime, anything to make up for Xu Ying’s suffering.

Now, hidden beneath the guise of a book, lay a dossier dedicated solely to Xu Ying’s personal history.

She arrived at the mansion seven days ago. In those seven days, Gu Qingzhu refused visits from Shan Qiaoyun and turned away the care of the servants. Every time she regained consciousness, she would fix her gaze on that book.

In the past, Gu Qingzhu would have opened it without hesitation. But after witnessing Xu Xu’s self-sacrificial public apology and the woman’s gentle, forgiving smile, Gu Qingzhu felt, for the first time, the weight of a soul.

It was far too heavy, not something that could be lifted with a flippant word or a fleeting thought.

There was no denying it: Gu Qingzhu felt fear.

She finally realized just how extreme her actions had been if everything was not as she had imagined.

And how utterly repulsive they were.

This fear choked her, as if invisible hands were tightening around her throat. She despised being controlled, even by her own thoughts.

In the silence, her fingers brushed against the cover, then turned the first page.

Xu Xu’s past was laid bare before her, as light as a feather yet devastating in its simplicity.

The alpha had grown up in Star City. Her parents had died of a rare illness when she was young, leaving her sickly and frail. She was raised in an orphanage.

Despite frequent absences from school due to her health, Xu Xu’s exceptional intellect allowed her to excel academically, earning a substantial scholarship every year.

For university, she enrolled in Star City’s prestigious institution, coincidentally in the same field as Xu Ying. They became acquainted then, and after graduation, Xu Ying invited her into the laboratory as an “assistant.”

Xu Xu’s personal life was monotonous. Before becoming Gu Qingzhu’s lover, she had spent years shuttling between the lab and home, with only occasional visits to the orphanage where she had grown up to volunteer.

No vices, no overly intimate friends or family just a quiet, kind, and sincere nature.

Her record was as pristine as a blank canvas, so unblemished that even the angriest hand would hesitate to mar it with ink.

Before Gu Qingzhu reunited with Xu Ying, the two had already known each other for seven years.

Was such a long time truly not enough for one person to truly see another?

Staring at the words, Gu Qingzhu’s lips turned pale.

She hesitated, wavered, and thought of Wei Siyan.

If even Xu Ying’s birth mother harbored no suspicions toward Xu Xu and willingly grew close to her…

While she, without any evidence beyond contracts and debts, had doubted, despised, and berated Xu Xu, even treating her as a mere tool to be used at will.

Then what had she been doing all these years?

Never before had Gu Qingzhu felt such profound confusion. The world outside was blanketed in snow, and the storm seemed to envelop her too, leaving her with nothing but an all-consuming “coldness.”

After a long while, she picked up a glass with only a sip of water left, parted her lips, and forced the pills down her throat.

The medication couldn’t cure anything, it only worsened her emotions.

To stay lucid, Gu Qingzhu rarely took pills. But lately, haunted by Xu Xu’s face in her dreams, she had no choice but to endure the unbearable act of swallowing them.

Nausea rose in her throat, the pills lodged there, refusing to go down. Instinctively, she pressed her fingers against her neck, repeating the motion until exhaustion finally forced them down.

Amid increasingly ragged breaths, she pushed open the window. Her dark eyes fixed on the snow-covered ground, heavy with unspoken thoughts.

Even if she managed to fall asleep with the help of those detestable things, the vision of Yingxu no longer appeared before her eyes. Instead, another overly familiar and intimate face would linger by her side.

Xu Ying would gaze at her, asking in a gentle tone, “Why haven’t you left yet?” Or she might simply stand beside her, listening attentively to her words, silent and sparing with speech. More often than not, she would remain in front of Gu Qingzhu until the latter lightly shook her arm, prompting the woman to finally glance at her.

Outside the door, a servant knocked at some point when, Gu Qingzhu couldn’t recall.

She couldn’t remember what Xu Ying had said to her in that final scene, but her fingertips still seemed to retain the warmth of the woman’s skin. It was utterly different from the coldness of this world. At this moment, as Gu Qingzhu recalled that scene, all her thoughts seemed to float in the air, her body feeling weightless.

But humans are inherently burdens to the world. Perhaps vanishing into the wind would be the only way to align with the meaning of existence.

Her gaze finally flickered, her fingertips accidentally brushing against some button. Soft music began to play in her ears a song Xu Ying had loved dearly.

If Xu Ying were still alive, what would she be doing now?

Gu Qingzhu stared at the vast blue sky, struggling to rein in her thoughts, forcing herself to focus on just this one question.

Yet the endless blue only made her think of one person.

In her ears, the woman’s gentle voice echoed.

“I won’t blame you.”

The sound of flowing water surrounded her as Gu Qingzhu closed her eyes.

False pity, hypocritical masks, there were no perfect people in this world. Everything was an illusion.

She thought again of Xu Ying, smiling softly.

Perhaps only in the places where Xu Ying had been could she feel even a trace of warmth.

This really was…

Such a bitterly cold winter.