After Redeeming the Female Lead, I Faked My Death and Escaped - Chapter 25

The car sped down the highway.

Ying Xu had left in such a hurry that she hadn’t even put on her headphones. The moment she played the voice message, Sheng Qiuyu’s aggrieved voice pierced her ears: “You’re not here? Why aren’t you here? Where did you go? Who did you meet?”

The high pitched tone was like a needle, further tangling Ying Xu’s already chaotic thoughts.

“Drive faster,” she said tersely, lowering the volume. Her reply to Sheng Qiuyu was uncharacteristically perfunctory:

[I have some things to deal with. I’ll contact you later. Don’t worry.]

The driver acknowledged but couldn’t help stealing a glance at the woman in the rearview mirror.

Ying Xu hadn’t bothered with any disguise, her strikingly recognizable face made it impossible to blend in. The driver couldn’t help but wonder about her destination and whether it matched the rumors circulating online.

Her phone kept vibrating, but Ying Xu had no intention of reading any more messages. She turned it off.

At some point, a bone deep chill had settled over her. It was clear that Gu Qingzhu had done something reckless, and Ying Xu was now caught in the fallout.

Beneath her sleeve, her fingers dug into her forearm, nails pressing hard until the skin reddened. The pain sharpened her focus.

She had once hesitated should she cut ties with Gu Qingzhu and abandon the mission? If she did, the woman, deprived of her emotional anchor and tormented by pain, might choose death.

But in the end, Ying Xu hadn’t burned that bridge.

Now, it seemed her choice had been the right one. Had she left Gu Qingzhu completely and thrown in her lot with Sheng Qiuyu, the Omega’s possessive nature would have barred her from ever seeing Gu Qingzhu again.

Whether Gu Qingzhu lived or died, what state she was in, Ying Xu would never know. She’d be left waiting for death in the vast emptiness of the Sheng family’s estate.

The thought sent a cold sweat down her palms.

No matter what, Gu Qingzhu couldn’t die.

And Ying Xu had to stay by her side.

Until now, the only reason Gu Qingzhu had clung to life was hatred.

Her hatred for Ying Xu had been the driving force that kept her world intact.

But now that hatred was wavering. Doubt had crept in, and the carefully constructed fortress of her life was crumbling.

It seemed Gu Qingzhu had lost her reason to live.

If Gu Qingzhu couldn’t fall in love with Ying Xu in the short term, then it was better to let her keep hating her.

Ying Xu stared out the window, her gaze heavy.

After all, because of Gu Qingzhu, there were already enough people who despised her.

If others were still drowning in hatred, unable to free themselves, why should the instigator get off so easily?

Ying Xu couldn’t accept that.

Against the snowy landscape, the rust-red building stood out starkly.

When the door opened after her knock, the servants were visibly startled to see Ying Xu.

The scandal had spread too far, they knew all about it. Outsiders might misunderstand Ying Xu, but they had interacted with her personally. They knew the depth of the relationship between the two women and how absurd the accusations truly were.

For a moment, their gazes were filled with pity.

The sympathy Ying Xu hadn’t sensed from Cheng Yun now washed over her. The feeling was strange but not entirely unwelcome.

Taking a deep breath, Ying Xu stated her purpose.

In the next second, the pity in their eyes flickered with hesitation.

Then, without hesitation, they shook their heads.

“I’m very sorry, Miss Ying,” a Beta servant said softly. “Qingzhu has given strict orders, the manor is closed to all guests for the time being. I’ll relay your message to her during dinner.”

Ying Xu was drenched in cold sweat, her hair clinging to her skin, making her feel even colder.

Her face was pale, and for the first time, her voice carried a hint of urgency: “Qingzhu hasn’t contacted the outside world for too long. Ms. Shan is very worried about her and asked me to come check on her.”

“Everyone is worried about her.” At this moment, Ying Xu was uncharacteristically honest, revealing a sliver of sincerity as she forced a bitter smile, her voice low. “Me too.”

Perhaps because she had lied too many times, even when speaking the truth, Ying Xu felt a trace of falseness.

But to an outsider, her expression was the epitome of reluctance and pitifulness. The woman couldn’t help but soften: “This… I’ll go contact Qingzhu now.”

Ying Xu shook her head, rejecting the suggestion.

“Let me see her for myself.”

If Gu Qingzhu was truly in trouble, who could guarantee that the maid alone with her wouldn’t tamper with something?

This matter was tied to her life. Apart from herself, Ying Xu trusted no one.

Her words were gentle, and after some persuasion, the woman finally opened the door.

Ying Xu went straight upstairs, the maid following closely behind, still concerned.

Watching the woman’s back, the maid sighed softly, as if tattling, and whispered, “Qingzhu barely eats. The last time I saw her was last night. She’s lost a lot of weight. If possible, Miss Ying, please try to persuade her.”

Ying Xu nodded perfunctorily, her gaze fixed anxiously on the upper floors.

She instinctively stopped on the third floor.

Last time, Gu Qingzhu had specifically asked her to deliver roses to her room.

Naturally, Ying Xu had no idea where it was. Guided by the maid, she had knocked on the door at the corner of the third floor. The woman had only opened a crack, revealing an exquisitely decorated room bathed in bright light.

As if unwilling to let Ying Xu see more of the interior, Gu Qingzhu had only allowed her to leave the flowers outside. Ying Xu hadn’t thought much of it avoiding contact with Gu Qingzhu was exactly what she wanted.

But seeing her pause now, the Beta maid behind her was surprised: “Miss Ying, is something wrong?”

With that one sentence, Ying Xu instantly realized Gu Qingzhu’s room wasn’t here.

Yet every time Ying Xu had seen the woman go upstairs, she had always gone to the third floor.

Whose room had she seen last time? Xu Ying’s?

A sense of absurdity washed over Ying Xu. She took a deep breath, struggling to keep her tone steady: “It’s nothing.”

She continued upward, only glancing at the maid’s reaction from the corner of her eye.

The mansion had five floors. Below the third floor, everything was bright and tidy. But upon stepping onto the fourth floor, each footstep kicked up dust.

The fourth floor was cluttered with junk.

The fifth floor had only one room.

As Ying Xu knocked on the door, the maid murmured beside her, “Qingzhu rarely lets us come up here.”

There was no response.

In the silence, only their faint, held breaths could be heard.

“Qingzhu?” The maid spoke cautiously, “Miss Xu, Miss Ying is here.”

Still, silence.

The Beta finally realized something was wrong. Over the past few days, even if the Omega had been disinterested, she had still responded to them. And Gu Qingzhu had always slept very little, it was nearly impossible for her to be unresponsive due to sleep.

A key turned in the lock, and after a click, the solemn, dust covered interior was revealed.

A bed, a desk, a single window. A book lay on the shelf, notebooks piled on the desk, their covers scarred with scratches.

In this grand and imposing mansion, Ying Xu had always felt that her room was out of place, like a prison. Who would have thought that the place where the owner of all this lived was even worse?

A faint scent of pheromones lingered in the air those belonged to Gu Qingzhu. Yet the woman was nowhere to be found in the room.

The servant glanced around, trembling, nearly convinced that Gu Qingzhu had jumped out the window to escape.

Until she heard the faint sound of running water.

“Qingzhu.” The Beta’s voice shook, her mind uncontrollably racing toward one terrifying possibility.

“Call a doctor,” Ying Xu ordered hastily, striding toward the bathroom. Each step felt like walking on needles, as though she weren’t moving across solid ground but balancing on a high wire, one misstep away from a fatal fall.

The servant’s retreating footsteps were gratingly loud. The bathroom door was slightly ajar, and as she drew closer, the sound of water grew clearer. The pheromones could no longer mask another overpowering, acrid scent.

Blood.

Her blood ran cold. Before pushing the door open, Ying Xu had still believed she could handle whatever awaited her.

Until the door was flung open with a violent crash, slamming against the wall.

Harsh white light flooded the room. The window was half-open, daylight mingling with artificial light, casting everything in an eerie, dreamlike haze.

The floor was slick with water, but it wasn’t clear, streaked with a faint crimson, thick and viscous.

The showerhead dangled limply over the edge of the tub. Inside, fabric clung to a pale, emaciated body. Strands of hair floated like seaweed in the water, swaying with the current, full of eerie vitality.

Yet the woman who possessed all this Gu Qingzhu lay curled in the icy water, her face deathly pale, like a plant withering in the depths of winter, her eyes tightly shut.

Her wrist was submerged, blood still seeping from it. A small knife lay sunken at her feet.

Ying Xu thought, Lunatic.

A complete and utter lunatic.

She stepped forward, staring at that face. For the first time in her life, she reached out and gripped Gu Qingzhu’s chin with bruising force. “If you wanted to die, why not choose an easier way?”

The skin beneath her palm was freezing, like ice.

Her voice was quiet, drained of energy. Ying Xu had no strength left to match Gu Qingzhu’s madness.

She felt utterly exhausted, as though from the moment she stepped into this room, her life had begun to slip away just like Gu Qingzhu’s.

To die like this? Because Gu Qingzhu chose death, she had to follow?

What kind of logic was that?

No response.

“Last time… you saw it, didn’t you? Those comments. She wanted me to jump.”

The scene from that night flashed before her eyes again. A single window had separated their worlds.

Gu Qingzhu had stared at the screen, silent, lost. She had looked at it all with something close to disbelief, as though realizing for the first time just how cruel people could be.

She had thought she hid her emotions perfectly. But Ying Xu had noticed.

A ruthless, decisive, cold yet “kind”

Lunatic.

Ying Xu released her grip. Finger marks were already darkening on the woman’s chin. She stared at her handiwork, coldly, and finally, as Gu Qingzhu teetered on the edge of consciousness, she voiced the question she had buried deep inside.

“Why isn’t this happening to you?”

Just because of some intangible “protagonist” status?

Silence still reigned. Ying Xu turned and walked out of the bathroom.

If she had to choose a way to die, she would rather jump out the window and end it all herself than be tied to Gu Qingzhu.

“Ying Xu” had already died because of Gu Qingzhu.

But Ying Xu would not.

Her life was hers to control.

Yet, just as she took the first step, a trembling breath reached her ears.

Die.

Ying Xu thought.

Death might just be liberation.

Isn’t this what Gu Qingzhu wanted? Then let her have her wish.

Consider it her own bad luck.

But why should it be her bad luck?

There were so many disgusting people in this world, so many who deserved to die.

Why should death be hers?

In the silence, Ying Xu turned her head, her cold gaze fixed on Gu Qingzhu.

Time seemed to slow at that moment. Before her eyes, the woman struggled to open her own, her lashes damp, as if with tears. She seemed still trapped in a dream, her voice drifting and uncertain.

“Sorry”

Sorry for what?

The sound of water masked footsteps.

Ying Xu stared at Gu Qingzhu’s face.

Slitting one’s wrists was the stupidest way to die, the pain it brought was more prolonged and agonizing than any other method.

Yet, Gu Qingzhu had still chosen it.

She had even lain in a bathtub filled with cold water, letting the chill seep into her bones.

Her teeth bit into her lips, the thin flesh already torn and ragged. Trembling, she looked like a doll utterly destroyed.

The next second, Ying Xu finally deciphered the syllables trembling between the woman’s lips.

“I’m sorry.”

Sorry.

To whom? “Ying Xu”?

For a moment, Ying Xu thought she must be hallucinating.

Then, the woman reached out a hand, as if trying to touch something. Ying Xu watched coldly, offering no help.

The wound on her wrist was glaring, flesh torn open, liquid trickling down her arm before being diluted by the water, spilling across the floor.

In the silence, the owner of that hand finally found what she sought. Slowly, hesitantly, she reached for it.

Then, with the lightest touch, her palm brushed against Ying Xu’s cheek.

“I’m sorry.”

In the silence, the woman spoke again, her words fragmented, sending a chill down Ying Xu’s spine.

“Xu”

“Ying.”

Her arm suddenly fell limp, her breath hitching for a moment.

Almost instantly, all strength left Ying Xu’s body, nearly buckling under its own weight.

When a person loses warmth, it seems all other sensations are swallowed along with it.

And before her own death, the last person she saw was Gu Qingzhu. The last words she heard were an Omega’s “remorse” toward her lover. The last trace of warmth she felt was the blood that belonged to her.

Ha.