After the Strategy Failed, the Heroine Turned into a Crematorium - Chapter 46

As Qi Zhie left the hospital, she was still slightly dazed. Recalling how Bian You had closed her eyes, unwilling to look at her, she frowned slightly and raised a hand to press lightly against her chest.

The shrill ringtone of her phone made her head throb. Seeing Ren Shuliu’s name on the screen, her expression cooled.

The moment the call connected, Ren Shuliu’s voice, laced with schadenfreude, came through: “Heard you went to the hospital? So, did she agree to see you?”

The news traveled fast. Qi Zhie thought that if Ren Shuliu had put this intelligence network to proper use, she would have already established herself firmly in Jingping City by now.

“You really have too much free time,” Qi Zhie said coldly.

“That I do. The mountains are high, and the emperor is far away, the old man can’t control me here, so of course I’m free.”

“…”

Qi Zhie hung up without another word, feeling that even a single syllable wasted on her was too much.

Returning home, she stood frozen in place as she took in the cold, empty silence of the house.

All those things she had once found unbearably childish had vanished overnight, and yet, from the depths of her soul, a hollowness welled up.

It had once been filled to the brim, wrapped in soft plush, cradled carefully in gentle hands.

But now, it felt hollowed out, with icy winds howling through, chilling her to the bone.

In silence, she walked to her room and stepped into the bathroom, turning on the shower and letting the water pour over her head.

Her gaze fell on the empty shelf, the little yellow ducks that had once sat there were all gone. Only a single toothbrush remained on the sink, solitary and forlorn.

Every trace of Bian You seemed to have been wiped clean, and yet her presence lingered everywhere.

Shivering from the cold, Qi Zhie stepped out of the bathroom and entered the walk-in closet. The half that had once belonged to Bian You was now completely bare.

Mi Yue had packed everything away meticulously not even a single scarf had been left behind.

Finally, her eyes landed on the bedside table, where a glass rose, a gift from Bian You that she had once dismissed as tacky sat alone. It was the only remaining object in the room that still tied her to Bian You.

The rose inside the glass dome stretched and bloomed quietly, its surface shimmering under the direct light.

Actually, maybe it wasn’t that tacky after all.

Qi Zhie sat by the bedside, her fingertips lightly tracing the glass cover, as if she could still recall Bian You’s expression when she had given it to her eyes brimming with joy, eagerly offering up everything she thought was beautiful, all to make her happy.

But she had never given her much in return.

Qi Zhie lowered her lashes, shadows pooling beneath them.

Lying down, she pulled the other pillow into her arms and buried her face in it, her mind drifting slightly. It still carried a faint trace of Bian You’s scent.

Her grip on the pillow tightened unconsciously. Qi Zhie realized she was sick.

If she wasn’t sick, what was she doing now?

The wind seemed to have picked up outside, howling as it sent the curtains fluttering. Occasional thuds echoed from beyond the window. Rubbing her temples, Qi Zhie got up and walked over, gazing absently at the trees swaying violently in the wind below.

It looked like rain was coming.

Closing the window, the excellent soundproofing turned the howling wind outside into a lover’s whisper. Returning to bed, Qi Zhie found herself still wide awake.

Her hand instinctively reached to the side, only to grasp empty air. It was then she suddenly realized she had grown completely accustomed to Bian You sleeping beside her. Now, with that warmth missing, every bit of discomfort surfaced.

In the latter half of the night, a flash of lightning streaked across the sky, followed by the distant rumble of thunder that eventually cracked overhead as if splitting the heavens. For a moment, Qi Zhie felt as though the thunder had come to strike her.

Sitting on the bed, she abruptly recalled Bian You’s reactions during thunderstorms. Her heart skipped a beat, and before she could think further, she had already changed clothes and was standing at the front door, hand on the handle.

Snapping back to reality, she hesitated only for a second before grabbing her keys and stepping out.

She drove all the way to the hospital. By then, raindrops the size of beans were pelting down with desperate force, accompanied by flashes of lightning and thunder, creating an eerie, apocalyptic scene.

Entering the inpatient building, she saw many people still bustling about in the lobby. She went straight upstairs to Bian You’s floor. Deep into the night, the corridor was much quieter, with only the nurses’ station still lit.

Through the glass window, she could vaguely make out the situation inside the room.

The hired caregiver was asleep on the accompanying bed, while the person on the hospital bed was curled into a tight ball, not even revealing their head.

Qi Zhie’s chest tightened, almost suffocating. She tried to move as quietly as possible when opening the door, but the moment she closed it behind her, the figure on the bed sharply sensed the disturbance and threw off the covers to look over.

Their eyes met in the darkness, and Bian You’s expression darkened instantly.

Since she had already been noticed, Qi Zhie didn’t bother hiding. She walked straight to the bedside to check on Bian You. With the intermittent flashes of lightning outside, she could see the sweat-dampened strands of hair clinging to Bian You’s forehead.

“What are you doing here?” Bian You said coldly.

The moment she spoke, the caregiver jolted awake. Upon realizing there was an extra person in the room, they quickly got up and moved protectively in front of Bian You, eyeing Qi Zhie warily.

Qi Zhie remained silent before finally saying, “Thunder.”

Bian You stared at her with a look that clearly questioned her sanity.

“So you came because of that?”

Qi Zhie glanced at the caregiver, who in turn looked to Bian You for instructions.

After a long silence, Bian You dismissed the caregiver.

Qi Zhie turned on the light, unsurprised to see Bian You’s even paler complexion. Her hands hung stiffly at her sides before she finally asked, “Should I wipe your sweat for you?”

Bian You sneered. “What’s the point of pretending to care now? Is there anything left on me that you still need?”

Qi Zhie pressed her lips together. Just then, another thunderclap boomed, and Bian You flinched violently, her face ghostly white.

Without caring about the awkwardness between them, Qi Zhie stepped forward and pulled Bian You into an embrace. Feeling the faint tremors in her body, Qi Zhie bit her lip, eyes stinging.

“Get off!”

Bian You suddenly erupted, struggling fiercely to push Qi Zhie away.

The voice filled with resentment and loathing pierced Qi Zhie’s heart like a sharp knife.

She realized she had truly been spoiled by Bian You accustomed to her radiant smiles, to the way her eyes held nothing but her. Now, even the slightest hint of rejection or disgust from Bian You shattered the most hidden defenses in her heart.

The tearing pain in her chest made her understand just how shameless and excessive her actions had been, bringing a regret so unbearable it was suffocating.

No matter how many people had warned her she would regret it, none of that remorse had felt as visceral as it did in this moment.

“Bian You!” Qi Zhie murmured her name, but under the weight of her resistance, she found herself at a loss for words.

Bian You shoved Qi Zhie away forcefully, her eyes rimmed red as she ground out between clenched teeth, “Qi Zhie, do you still think of me as some dog you can summon and dismiss at will? What’s the point of all this now?”

“Haven’t I repaid everything I owed you?”

“Qi Zhie, don’t make me look down on you.”

Once, she had gone to great lengths to affectionately call her by a pet name reserved only for her. Now, the icy utterance of her full name struck Qi Zhie as unbearably harsh more grating than even the childhood taunt of “Seven Geese.”

“I’m sorry,” Qi Zhie murmured, lowering her head slightly, her voice hoarse.

She wasn’t used to being treated this way by Bian You, and for a moment, she seemed utterly lost.

Bian You couldn’t help but let out a bitter laugh, her heart aching, the wound on her gland throbbing so much pain that tears welled up in her eyes.

“Qi Zhie, do I look that pitiful to you? Like I’m so desperate for you that a half-hearted apology would make me come crawling back like a dog?”

There had been a time when Bian You had debased herself to such lows. Looking back now, she couldn’t help but feel a deep, wretched sorrow.

“No!” Qi Zhie frowned, her eyes clouded with unshakable anguish. She was realizing she was becoming worse and worse at speaking.

“If not, then get out. I don’t want anything to do with you anymore.” Bian You pointed coldly toward the door.

Amid the thunderous roar outside, as if the world itself were ending, Qi Zhie reached out and took Bian You’s hand. Her throat was painfully dry, and though she knew how shameless her next words would be, she still forced them out.

“There’s still a connection between us. We never broke up.”

Bian You seemed stunned by this, as if she could never have imagined Qi Zhie would say such a thing, let alone have the audacity to.

“Never broke up? Qi Zhie, do you even hear yourself?”

Qi Zhie pressed her lips together, her face growing paler under the fluorescent lights.

“We never said we were breaking up.”

Bian You laughed in disbelief. “Fine. Then let me say it now, officially: We’re done. Are you happy now?”

Her eyes, still glistening from tears, were bright but devoid of their usual warmth.

Qi Zhie gazed into them and whispered, “I don’t agree.”

She still wanted those eyes to belong to her, still wanted to see herself reflected in them, still wanted to possess every part of her.

Bian You’s head throbbed with pain as she sneered, “After everything, what right do you have to disagree?”

“Qi Zhie, the way you’re clinging on now is truly pathetic.”

Qi Zhie held her hand tightly, refusing to let go no matter what she said.

“Let go!” Bian You snapped angrily.

Qi Zhie’s face was pale, but she stubbornly shook her head.

“Release me!” Bian You grew increasingly furious, trying to shake off her hand with force.

The more Bian You resisted, the more the fire in Qi Zhie’s chest blazed uncontrollably, burning her eyes red at the corners as her rationality gradually crumbled.

“Mmm…”

Bian You’s eyes widened as she watched Qi Zhie close the distance between them. She could still feel the warmth and softness of Qi Zhie’s lips pressing against hers, moving insistently, utterly infatuated.

Bian You’s expression changed instantly. She shoved Qi Zhie away, her face alternating between pale and flushed, as colorful as an overturned palette.

She never would have imagined Qi Zhie would do something like this.

The caregiver who had come in to check on the commotion was also startled by the scene. After a moment’s hesitation, she retreated to the doorway, sensing the atmosphere wasn’t right for her to intervene.

Ignoring the caregiver behind her, Qi Zhie looked at Bian You earnestly and said, “We’re compatible, aren’t we?”

“Compatible my ass!”

Bian You rarely swore, but her heart was in turmoil. She never expected the usually passive and reserved Qi Zhie to take the initiative, catching her completely off guard.

Qi Zhie ignored her remark, walking straight into the bathroom to fetch a basin of warm water, intending to wipe away the cold sweat Bian You had broken out earlier.

Bian You laughed at her nonchalant demeanor, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

“Qi Zhie, I never knew you had such a shameless side.”

Qi Zhie wrung out the towel, her brows slightly furrowed, but she didn’t respond.

Bian You turned her head away, avoiding the towel. “I have a caregiver. No need for CEO Qi to trouble herself. Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.”

Qi Zhie’s hand froze mid-air. Staring at Bian You’s indifferent face, she felt a lump form in her throat.

The caregiver quickly stepped forward, taking the towel from Qi Zhie with an ingratiating smile. “I’ll handle it. This is my job, after all.”

Bian You pointed at the door, signaling for her to leave.

Qi Zhie’s arms dropped limply to her sides. “I’ll come see you tomorrow,” she said finally.

Bian You scoffed and lay down, turning her back to her.

As for tomorrow, when Qi Zhie returned to the hospital, all she found was an empty room.

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