Diagnosis: Friend [Rebirth] - Chapter 23.1

Chapter 23.1: (Special 3-in-1 Entry)

A cool breeze drifted into the corridor smelling of disinfectant. The woman pulled a small blanket from her bulging bag and wrapped it around Sun Ning’s shoulders. After they finished eating, Jiang Qing helped support her to the roadside.

The mother and daughter left in a taxi, and night fell.

Jiang Qing boarded a bus. The phone in her pocket vibrated; switching hands on the grab bar, she opened it to find a text message. The bus was filled with people who had just finished work—it was quiet, with only the station announcements mixing with the hiss of the air brakes. Jiang Qing leaned against the pole, a faint smile gracing her lips as she replied.

Over the weekend, the school’s back gate was tightly shut, with only the side guard room open for students to filter through.

Gu Yining didn’t know why she had come here. By the time she realized her actions were improper, she was already at the back gate. She had forgotten what excuse she used to brush off Zhou Xuening; regardless, she hadn’t gone back to the villa, but had come here directly from the hospital.

She walked past the guard room and headed toward the girls’ dormitory. Before that dim door, she knocked for a long time until her knuckles ached, but the weathered wooden door didn’t open. The corridor was dark. Walking back, she didn’t notice a puddle and stepped right into it, catching herself against the wall just in time to avoid a fall.

Sensing the darkness before her eyes beginning to twist, Gu Yining shook her head, recalling the doctor’s question: “Any discomfort lately?” The results were normal, but brain injuries are volatile; adverse reactions can occur even when scans show nothing.

In her previous life, she had ignored the monthly checkups until her memory began to leak away—the massive aftereffects of that violent encounter ten years prior finally revealing themselves. In this life, thanks to Jiang Qing’s early intervention, the injury wasn’t as severe. However, given her odd behavior at the hospital, Dr. Sun took her condition seriously, ordering psychological therapy and observation.

Gu Yining didn’t feel much discomfort—her sixteen-year-old brain was sharp—but she didn’t know about hidden consequences. Now, leaning against the wall, she looked at the wet patch on the floor and felt a wave of distress. The gloom felt like an airtight wall, making it hard to breathe.

Emerging from the school, dim yellow streetlights shone on scattered pedestrians. It was cool, and being a weekend, few snack stalls were open. Electric scooters zipped through alleys. The streets were clean, glowing with a yellow hue like an old photograph.

Gu Yining’s vision blurred. She blinked and realized her eyes were wet; wiping them, she found water on her hand. It seemed it had started to rain—just a few drops before vanishing. She crouched on the steps of a stationery shop. She didn’t want to go home, yet didn’t know where to go. A cloud of depression loomed.

She felt sad. She wanted to see Jiang Qing—the twenty-nine-year-old Jiang Qing, not this sixteen-year-old version who was afraid of her and kept her distance. For the first time since her rebirth, she felt a sense of weary powerlessness.

She crouched there until her legs went numb. When she finally stood, it felt like ten thousand ants were gnawing on her calves. She gritted her teeth and forced herself up. After ten minutes, the numbness faded. She walked up the alley behind the gate, thinking of a certain someone.

Her feet stepped over blurred shadows. A fresh fragrance hit her; a few flower shops were open, their buckets holding wilted sunflowers with golden petals. Through a glass door, she saw a girl buying flowers.

The sunflowers brushed against the girl’s white skirt. She held a bouquet, laughing and talking to the clerk. Gu Yining squeezed her eyes shut and reopened them. The girl had a black backpack and was revealing white teeth in a smile. She shifted the bouquet to her left arm and rummaged in her bag. Gu Yining froze. Just as she was about to walk over, the girl stepped out and smiled at someone waiting.

Only then did Gu Yining notice a man standing there. The light was dim, and she couldn’t see his face. Her foot stopped. A breeze whistled past her ears.

Gu Yining hurriedly lowered her head, pulling her hair forward to hide her face. She followed them at a distance. They walked side by side for several hundred meters before turning into a residential complex. The man swiped a card at the gate and let Jiang Qing in first.

Gu Yining ran to the gate, but it was locked. She peered inside as they disappeared behind some bushes. Anxious, she took a photo, but it was just a black blur. Fortunately, an auntie swiped in, and Gu Yining slipped in behind her, sprinting in the direction Jiang Qing had gone.

The night receded. The greenery in the complex was lush, like maze walls. She caught a faint sound—Jiang Qing’s voice. She hid by a wall, watching two figures in front of a stairwell. In this old building, echoes were clear. She crouched, controlling her steps.

The footsteps above stopped. The man used his keys, and the door opened. Gu Yining saw Jiang Qing enter before the door shut with a thud.

Empty silence.

Gu Yining climbed up step by step. Door 503 had small couplets pasted on the sides. She leaned against it, trying to hear anything. But there was nothing. What was Jiang Qing doing here? What was her relationship with this man?

Jiang Qing had bought a pregnancy test yesterday, visited an OB-GYN hospital today, and was now entering a home with a man and flowers. Gu Yining knit her brows: Was she being deceived? Jiang Qing was smart, but a man that age could easily trick a young girl.

She stood up abruptly. She had to knock and find out. If that man was hurting her, she’d make sure he paid. She turned to rush down, but her heel hit a smooth patch. She slipped, pitching forward. By the time she realized it, she was kneeling on the steps before the door, clutching the iron railing.

Her knees throbbed. Just then, the door clicked open.

Jian Wenxin, holding a bag of trash, jumped at the sight of a girl kneeling there. “Are you… hello? Which floor do you live on? I’ll call your parents.”

She helped her up, noticing the scuffed pants. “Come out and help!” she shouted inside.

Footsteps thumped on the wood. A white skirt entered Gu Yining’s vision.

“Gu Yining?”

Jian Wenxin helped the girl up and looked at a confused Jiang Qing. “You know her?”

“I… I think so.” Noticing the girl’s head was down, Jiang Qing went to help her on the other side. Her voice made the girl flinch. “Why are you here?”

Gu Yining kept her head down, her embarrassment turning her ears and neck scarlet. “To… to a classmate’s house.”

Jian Wenxin sat her on the sofa. From the kitchen came the sizzle of a man cooking. She patted Jiang Qing. “Watch her, I’ll get some iodine.”

Jiang Qing nodded and looked at Gu Yining, whispering: “A classmate’s house?”

Gu Yining kept her gaze down. “Yeah.”

“And you just happened to fall at Ms. Jian’s door?” Jiang Qing let out a sharp, quiet laugh and leaned in close, her breath hitting Gu Yining’s neck. “Are you stalking me?”

No wonder she had received a rare call from Zhou Xuening earlier, asking pointed questions about her health. Jiang Qing had snapped, “Ms. Zhou, what exactly are you asking?” The line went quiet before: “Why did you buy a pregnancy test? And why were you at the OB-GYN hospital?”

Jiang Qing hadn’t been obligated to explain, saying only “It wasn’t for me” before hanging up. Combined with Gu Yining’s shifty behavior outside, she had guessed the rest.

Gu Yining remained silent, a silent admission. The aroma of dinner wafted in. She looked at the silhouette in the kitchen and asked, “Is that Ms. Jian’s boyfriend?”

Jiang Qing nodded and reached for Gu Yining’s knee. “Does it hurt?”

Gu Yining froze. A wave of bitterness hit her nose, and her voice turned soft and trailing, tinged with a flirtatious vulnerability: “Jiang Qing, it hurts so much.”

Jiang Qing took the iodine from Jian Wenxin. “I’ll do it, Ms. Jian.”

Gu Yining was wearing loose sweatpants. She rolled them up to reveal faint red scrapes on her fair skin—not serious.

“Hello, Ms. Jian. I’m Gu Yining from Class 8.” Gu Yining smiled at her and noticed the bouquet on the coffee table—the one Jiang Qing had been holding—next to a cake. “Is it your birthday?”

Jian Wenxin smiled. “Yes. I was just going out to toss the trash and saw you kneeling there. You gave me a fright.”

Gu Yining smiled sheepishly. The cold iodine touched her knee. She watched as Jiang Qing carefully applied the medicine, her slender hand moving the cotton swab across her skin. The living room was small but well-arranged.

Gu Yining took a soft breath and looked up. “Happy birthday, Ms. Jian!” She stood up as her sweatpants slid back down. “I have to go. I won’t disturb your birthday.”

She knew it might be awkward for a stranger to stay, especially with only Jian Wenxin’s boyfriend and her favorite student present.

“Since you’re here, why not stay for cake?” Jian Wenxin offered.

Gu Yining waved her hands. “Thank you, but my family is coming to pick me up. Have a great time!”

Jian Wenxin looked at her injury. “Then I’ll walk—”

Before she could finish, Jiang Qing grabbed Gu Yining’s arm and smiled at the teacher. “I’ll help her down, Ms. Jian.”

After sitting for a bit, the pain had lessened. Jiang Qing supported her down the stairs. Gu Yining smiled: “Jiang Qing, go back up. It’s not far to the gate, I can walk.”

Jiang Qing’s thin eyelids lifted against the light; her light gray eyes looked like beautiful amber. Without her glasses, she lacked her usual “top student” rigidity, gaining a certain charm.

Jiang Qing smiled. “Since when have you been stalking me?”

Gu Yining relaxed. “I saw you at the pharmacy yesterday and the hospital today. I was curious, then I saw you coming out of school and followed you.”

“It’s the weekend. Why were you at school?”

To find you.

Gu Yining bit her lip. “To… get my homework.”

Jiang Qing let out a light laugh, her gaze sweeping over the small mole on the girl’s neck before looking away. “So you didn’t just see me at the pharmacy, you knew I bought a pregnancy test?”

“Just a lucky guess, haha.” Gu Yining suddenly realized something was wrong. How did Jiang Qing know she knew?

“Someone else called to ask before you did.” Two faint dimples appeared. “Ms. Zhou is just as ‘helpful’ as you are, Classmate Gu.”

Zhou Xuening?

Gu Yining was confused. She had thought they were close because Zhou had handled the photos/videos, but since returning to the Gu family, Zhou always acted like she didn’t know Jiang Qing well. Why call now? And how did she know it was Jiang Qing if she hadn’t named her? Was it just “foundation donor concern”?

“Then… that thing?” Gu Yining asked. “Who was it for?”

“A friend,” Jiang Qing’s smile vanished. “Don’t ask; I won’t tell you. Go home. It’s late; your family will worry.”

“Go back and eat your cake then.” Gu Yining looked at the dark stairwell. “Go up first, I’ll walk slowly.”

Jiang Qing nodded. As she walked into the hall, the sound-activated light flickered on. Back in the apartment, the table was set. Jian Wenxin gestured to her: “Wash your hands, it’s time to eat!”

The night grew cold. A phone rang, the light stinging Gu Yining’s eyes. It was Gu Xi.

“Gu Yining, where the hell are you? It’s late!”

The wind whistled. Her knees only hurt slightly now. Winter was coming, and her exposed calves were chilled. Above were the lights of ten thousand homes; nearby, the smell of cooking and warm voices drifted from windows.

Gu Yining let out a flat “Mhm.”

“I’m about to die out here.”

Her energy was gone. She didn’t have the patience to play the part of the long-lost daughter anymore. When she first returned, she craved that missing affection, masking her sensitivity with an outgoing persona. Now, she was tired of it.

She hung up and turned on her phone’s flashlight. Her shadow looked defeated on the gray steps. She felt cold. Her jacket felt damp—likely from the rain earlier.

She sat there until she heard familiar footsteps from above. Her dazed mind snapped to attention. The warm light of the stairwell fell around her. She looked back and saw a shadow jumping down the steps.

It was Jiang Qing, her face dark—not just from the shadows, but from anger.

“Why are you still here?” Jiang Qing’s tone was sharp.

Gu Yining looked up, finding her anger vivid and much better than her cold indifference. She smiled. “Waiting for you so we can go home together.”

Jiang Qing froze, sensed something was wrong, and pulled her up. Gu Yining leaned on her for support. Her face was flushed, and she felt hot against Jiang Qing.

Touching her forehead, Jiang Qing confirmed she had a fever. She pulled out her phone to call Zhou Xuening, but Gu Yining lunged to grab it. Jiang Qing hid the phone behind her back, and Gu Yining took the chance to wrap her arms around Jiang Qing’s waist, giggling. “What are you doing?”

Jiang Qing sighed, looking at the hands around her waist. She guided her out of the complex. “You have a fever. I’m calling your family.”

“Don’t want to go back. Won’t go back,” Gu Yining whispered, leaning weightlessly on her shoulder.

She knew she wasn’t like Gu Xi. After ten years apart, blood wasn’t enough; it was a game of testing and pleasing each other. Tonight, she didn’t want to play.

“I’m tired. I don’t want to go back.” When she was lost, she just wanted to be near Jiang Qing. She didn’t need Jiang Qing to do anything—just to be there. She huddled against Jiang Qing’s chest, feeling the warmth of her body. “I’m going back to school.”

“But you have a fever.”

Gu Yining shook her head, even laughing. “I’m strong. I’ll be fine after a sleep.” she looked at her piteously. “If you don’t take me back, I’ll have to sleep on the street. My fever will get worse, my knees are hurt, and I’m just a student… bad people might find me.”

Jiang Qing looked away, debating whether to point out how terrible her acting was.

They stopped at a pharmacy for medicine and iodine. Back at the dark dormitory, Jiang Qing asked, “Which room?”

Gu Yining, who hadn’t stopped talking all way, suddenly went silent. “To your room first. I haven’t taken the fever medicine.”

Inside, Jiang Qing turned on the light and sat her on the bed. She poured her some hot water in her only cup. She found some medicine in her first-aid kit. Jiang Qing was often sick herself during season changes, so she kept a stock.

She gave Gu Yining a pill. The school was quiet. Jiang Qing closed the window and packed the medicine and iodine into a small bag. Gu Yining sat on the bed, sweat glistening on her forehead from the fever.

Jiang Qing handed her a thermometer. “You caught a cold waiting for me, didn’t you?”

Gu Yining tucked the thermometer under her arm. “I got a little wet in the rain earlier. Probably that.”

Jiang Qing set the cup down and looked at her, her gray eyes reflecting her lashes. “Was there something you wanted to tell me?”

Gu Yining froze. “No. Just had a fever and couldn’t walk.”

Jiang Qing sat on a stool. “Does it still hurt?”

The scrape wasn’t serious, and the pain had mostly faded, but Gu Yining replied, “It hurts.” She took a breath, her eyes suddenly filling with tears. “Jiang Qing, it hurts so much.”

Jiang Qing stared. The liquid made Gu Yining’s eyes shimmer like deep, dark pools. Jiang Qing felt pulled in. Five minutes later, the red line on the thermometer hit 38°C ($100.4°F$). Not too bad.

“Go back to your room and rest. Take the medicine and apply the iodine on time.”

Gu Yining didn’t move. When Jiang Qing tried to pull her up, she felt her resisting.

“Jiang Qing,” Gu Yining took a deep breath, clutching Jiang Qing’s hand. “There’s no one else in my dorm. I don’t want to go back. I’m scared.” She squeezed Jiang Qing’s palm with a desperate sort of determination. “Can I sleep here with you tonight?”

Jiang Qing’s hand trembled. She pulled it back and shook her head. “No. School rules forbid staying in other rooms. It’s trouble if we’re caught. And the bed is too small.”

It’s not small; we’ve slept here before, Gu Yining thought. “But my leg is hurt. And I have a fever. My head hurts, and I’m scared to be alone.”

It was true; she hated being alone. Growing up, if her foster parents were away, she’d find a friend or even lure the neighbor’s dog inside just to have company. Even at nearly forty, that fear of abandonment remained.

Seeing Jiang Qing unmoved, she looked down like a drenched puppy. “Jiang Qing… you know, I haven’t had a mother since I was little…”

Jiang Qing: …