After Redeeming the Female Lead, I Faked My Death and Escaped - Chapter 29.2

Gu Qingzhu was no exception.

Dinner was extravagantly prepared, with candles and flowers adorning the table, making it exceptionally formal.

Though the people coming and going were alive, the residence still lacked any vitality. Everyone kept their eyes downcast, as if they wished their gazes could glue themselves to their toes, avoiding any contact with Gu Qingzhu solemn and orderly.

Gu Qingzhu once thought she preferred this kind of quiet.

On set, everyone was particularly noisy. Perhaps the decibel level of their voices wasn’t high, but layered together, they amplified in her ears ten thousand times over, becoming unbearable.

Perhaps the medication had blurred her sense of time, making her hospital stay feel interminably long. The surroundings were so silent it was like living in a glass room one that housed only her.

Suddenly, she wanted to hear something different.

Gu Qingzhu parted her lips slightly: “There’s no need to be so”

Polite and distant.

But before she could say more, the Beta who met her gaze averted their eyes nervously: “Is there a problem?”

Gu Qingzhu hesitated briefly before giving up: “Never mind.”

Deep-rooted mindsets were especially hard to change.

Gu Qingzhu thought to herself, she hadn’t changed at all. What was the point of demanding it from others?

It would only bring unnecessary frustration.

She lowered her eyes, the clinking of cutlery against porcelain crisp and clear.

Yet in her peripheral vision, a wineglass brimming with liquor tilted toward her.

Gu Qingzhu looked at Ying Xu, momentarily bewildered.

Before she could feel indignant, the Alpha offered her a warm smile.

“Qingzhu,” Ying Xu called her name softly, “welcome home.”

Gu Qingzhu felt her heartbeat skip a beat.

On her first night back at the mansion, Ying Xu finally had time to check the backlog of messages.

Sheng Qiuyu’s messages were packed to the brim, having accumulated over a thousand during Ying Xu’s absence. Scrolling to the beginning, she found photos Sheng Qiuyu had sent of a hotel room.

Ying Xu wasn’t there, and Sheng Qiuyu seemed both bewildered and secretly delighted, as if she had misunderstood Ying Xu’s absence as a trip to the main city to look for her.

But as Ying Xu remained unresponsive, the Omega’s tone shifted, growing increasingly frantic. She even sent Ying Xu screenshots of her call logs, showing that she had dialed Shan Qiaoyun a hundred times in ten minutes, every single one rejected.

In the end, she completely exploded, publicly tagging Gu Qingzhu’s account on StarNet.

Sheng Qiuyu didn’t dare ask Ying Xu directly, afraid that the already pacified netizens would start attacking the Alpha again.

So, she could only indirectly criticize Gu Qingzhu in her posts, trying to use public pressure to force a response from Gu Qingzhu’s side.

But what she didn’t expect was that Gu Qingzhu was already hospitalized, and Shan Qiaoyun was busy with her own plans, leaving no time to respond.

This public tagging only resulted in Sheng Qiuyu’s account being suspended for half a month. The netizens, deprived of their drama, turned on her again.

Sheng Qiuyu gained nothing from either side and was also discovered by her family for sneaking out, earning her another round of scolding. With no wins anywhere, her mood grew increasingly despondent, and the occasional voice messages she sent were filled with grievance.

“Are you ignoring me because you saw me cursing Gu Qingzhu? Do you hate me now?”

“Without you here, I don’t want to act.”

“I’ve always hated acting anyway, and I’m not even good at it. Why is something so easy in your eyes so hard for me? Am I just stupid?”

“Can’t you… just not be with Gu Qingzhu?”

Despite receiving no reply, Sheng Qiuyu continued to share everything about her life with Ying Xu.

By the time Ying Xu reached the end of the messages, she found that just a few minutes earlier, Sheng Qiuyu had sent a new video.

The video was filmed by someone else. A birdcage stood wide open, and a small, pure white bird spread its tail feathers. It was incredibly tiny, seemingly no larger than half of Sheng Qiuyu’s palm, yet exquisitely delicate, with each feather distinct and its tail feathers fluffed out beautifully.

As if afraid of hurting it, Sheng Qiuyu gently stroked its tail: “Xiao Yu, call me ‘sister.’”

Xiao Yu.

Sheng Qiuyu’s childhood nickname seemed to be this very name, which was why she had been so furious when the unfamiliar Cheng Yun had addressed her that way she treasured the term.

So why would she use it to name a bird?

At first, Ying Xu had felt nothing toward the name “Ying Xu.” But during her time with Gu Qingzhu, she was constantly reminded that she was merely a stand-in for Xu Ying, and eventually realized that “Ying Xu” was just “Xu Ying” reversed.

She couldn’t help but feel that names were precious.

Lost in thought, the video continued to play.

Inside the cage, the pure white bird widened its eyes. The azure sky reflected in its gaze as it spread its wings, as if embracing the heavens.

“Sister! Sister!”

It hopped back and forth on its perch, lively and playful, even nuzzling Sheng Qiuyu’s hand on its own.

“Sister! Sister!”

It repeated the words: “Sister Xiao Yu!”

The video ended there. Sheng Qiuyu sent a few more messages.

[Its eyes are blue too. I had to fight so hard to get it.]

[Do you like it? When you come back, I’ll give it to you.]

【Don’t Ignore Me Anymore】

Ying Xu finally understood why she had given her pet name to a little bird.

“Xiao Yu.”

Sheng Qiuyu propped her chin on her hand, staring blankly at the dishes on the table, lost in thought. It wasn’t until the woman’s voice sharpened that she finally looked up. “Mom.”

Her tone unconsciously carried a hint of coquetry, softening Du Xun’s displeased expression. “Why didn’t you answer me earlier?”

“I was thinking about something else.”

Sheng Qiuyu was adept at deflecting, and Du Xun gave a slight nod, letting it go without further comment. Instead, she got straight to the point. “Earlier, we were talking about Cheng Yuedu. What do you think of her?”

Cheng Yuedu Cheng Jun’s elder sister.

Sheng Qiuyu had only exchanged polite nods with her. If she had to recall any impression, it was that night at Cheng’s banquet when she had made plans with Ying Xu, only for Ying Xu to be whisked away early by Gu Qingzhu.

Because of that, Sheng Qiuyu couldn’t help but resent the Cheng family, treating everyone with a cold shoulder.

The Cheng family was too vast, riddled with too many conflicts for Cheng Yuedu to easily control. Under such circumstances, the best solution seemed to be a business marriage mutually beneficial.

She had heard rumors before but had always relied on her family’s doting to dismiss any concerns.

The smile on Sheng Qiuyu’s lips faded bit by bit.

She stared at Du Xun, who sighed softly. “I’m just asking for your opinion. If you’re unwilling, you can tell me.”

Without hesitation, Sheng Qiuyu replied, “I won’t have anything to do with her.”

She had no interest in Cheng Yuedu to begin with. Moreover, the Sheng and Cheng families had never had any business dealings. The only commonality over the years was that Cheng Jun’s mother had lingered in both households for a time.

Her words landed heavily, and the dining table fell into silence.

No one brought up the topic again, and Sheng Qiuyu lost all appetite for the meal. Even on her way back to her room, she couldn’t help but wonder why?

Hadn’t she told everyone she had feelings for an Alpha? Why did no one seem to care?

For once, Sheng Qiuyu felt a pang of grievance.

Such emotions were rare in her life. The more she thought about it, the more her eyes welled up with tears. On her brightly lit phone screen, the messages she had sent piled up into the thousands, yet there was still no reply.

She flipped through her photo album and sent over the only thing that still brought her joy, a video of her parrot. She followed it with a string of reckless words she couldn’t bear to reread, then abruptly turned her phone face down, too afraid to check for a response.

After a long silence, Sheng Qiuyu suddenly called out, “Xiao Yu!”

A sharp chirp rang out in response. Unlike the calls of ordinary birds, it was piercing and impossible to ignore. In the dimly lit room, only a faint lamp was on, but it was enough to illuminate the bird’s sleek, glossy white feathers.

It seemed eager to fly out of its cage but, finding it locked, paced back and forth on its perch, calling back to Sheng Qiuyu, “Jiejie! Jiejie!”

Seeing how obedient it was, Sheng Qiuyu let out a sigh of relief.

The bird had been sold to her by a branch of the Xu family. The Beta who bred it specialized in raising birds small, delicate, docile, and intelligent, they were incredibly endearing. The only downside was their tragically short lifespans. Some died within days, and the longest survivor had barely lasted a month.

The one in her room was a new breed, the result of selective breeding. The Beta claimed it could live for at least three years and was auctioned in limited quantities, making it all the more coveted.

To capture it, Sheng Qiuyu had expended considerable effort and money. Occasionally, she would feel a sense of doubt was it really worth it, just for a bird?

But the moment she truly met its gaze, Sheng Qiuyu had only one thought.

It was all worth it.

Would she like it? Sheng Qiuyu suddenly felt a pang of nervousness.

Just as she steeled herself to say something and unlocked her phone, two messages from Ying Xu appeared before her eyes.

[I saw it.]

[Thank you, Xiaoyu.]