Diagnosis: Friend [Rebirth] - Chapter 24.1

Chapter 24.1

“How… how so?” After a long pause, Jiang Qing’s hand dropped gently. She was startled by Gu Yining’s words, though she forced a light tone. “Your brain is fine. You’re so smart.”

Jiang Qing worried if her previous comment had hurt Gu Yining, but on second thought, how could Gu Yining be crushed by the word “frivolous”? Her tone hadn’t even been harsh—it was just a well-meaning reminder.

“Jiang Qing.” Hearing Gu Yining call her name, Jiang Qing gave a soft “Mhm” in response.

“You know I injured the back of my head before,” Gu Yining said. “Before I was reborn—in my previous life—I was also injured. Unlike this time, I hadn’t met you yet. No one came to save me that night. I was badly hurt; blood was everywhere.”

The attackers had fled in a panic, leaving her unconscious in that pitch-black woods, her breathing nearly stopped. She eventually woke up in agony. The soil beneath her was soaked, and the thick scent of blood thrashed about in the darkness.

Her head felt deathly heavy. With the slightest movement, viscous blood dripped from her forehead. She struggled to look down at her throbbing calf, only to find a dog licking it. The dog’s tongue was warm, but the sensation was agonizing. She stayed conscious through the pain, dragging her limp body inch by inch toward the exit until she managed to grab a passerby’s leg before passing out.

That was how Gu Yining was saved.

“The doctor said I had permanent brain trauma, though specific symptoms hadn’t shown yet. I was worried at first that I’d turn ‘stupid,’ but for a long time there were no problems, so I assumed I was fine.” Gu Yining paused. “Later, I realized I seemed to have forgotten many things.”

She had even once forgotten Jiang Qing.

Jiang Qing asked, “Forgotten what?”

Gu Yining shook her head. “I don’t know. I can’t remember. It’s just that occasionally, I feel a sudden, deep sadness—just like I did a moment ago.”

Jiang Qing let out a sigh of relief. “You scared me. I thought you were sad because I called you frivolous.” She withdrew her comforting hand. “If your memory chose to forget those things, they probably weren’t pleasant. Let them stay forgotten.”

She lightly grazed Gu Yining’s cheek with her finger and whispered, “I’ll choose to believe you’re reborn for now. Since you’ve been reborn, forget the past. It was just a very realistic dream.”

She smiled, seemingly convincing herself: It was just a very realistic dream.

In the next instant, her wrist was grabbed. Gu Yining’s rapid breath hit her palm as the girl struck while the iron was hot: “Jiang Qing, you must have done well on this monthly exam, right?”

Jiang Qing nodded and gave a soft laugh. “Why ask that?”

Gu Yining spoke seriously, emphasizing every word: “Because you said before that your grades dropped and you didn’t want to be distracted by making friends.”

That had merely been Jiang Qing’s excuse to escape, yet someone had believed it implicitly.

“You should be back at the top now.” Gu Yining unconsciously squeezed Jiang Qing’s palm, suddenly nervous. “So, can we be friends now?”

A moment ago, Jiang Qing was advising her to forget the past, but Gu Yining hadn’t listened at all. Taking advantage of Jiang Qing’s softening heart, she fixed her obsession back onto her.

Jiang Qing’s fingers twitched slightly. Perhaps she was being too stubborn. It was just a friendship; why did she treat it like a major threat?

She felt guilty. Ultimately, this guilt didn’t stem from Gu Yining, but from herself. The past was just a dream. Since she had decided to move on, treating Gu Yining as a normal friend was the right thing to do.

Her palm felt warm under Gu Yining’s grip. Jiang Qing made a decision. She smiled gently and squeezed Gu Yining’s hand back. “Alright. Let’s be friends.”

Waking up, it was already morning.

Gu Yining had slept deeply. The warmth of the quilt enveloped her skin, and the bed was filled with Jiang Qing’s scent. She took a deep breath, realizing she had once again crowded toward the edge.

Jiang Qing wasn’t beside her.

Gu Yining got up to change. At the sink, the cold water instantly dispelled the remaining drowsiness, making her hiss from the chill. The door beside the washstand creaked.

Gu Yining looked up to see Jiang Qing entering with several buns and soy milk. The buns were steaming, and the aroma made Gu Yining’s mouth water.

Jiang Qing set the soy milk on the table. “Come eat breakfast first.”

Drying her hands, Gu Yining took a bun. “Thanks, Jiang Qing!” The bun was thin-skinned and packed with meat filling; the juice flooded her mouth with the first bite.

After breakfast, Jiang Qing folded the quilts and turned to the girl drinking soy milk. “I’m heading to the library in a bit. You can go home or back to your own dorm. Remember to check the scrape on your knee and apply some iodine.”

“I’m going to the library too!” Seeing Jiang Qing tilt her head, Gu Yining swallowed her milk. “I can’t keep up with the class progress. I need to study too.”

On weekends, only the bookstore on the first floor of the library was open. Fortunately, it wasn’t crowded, and there were empty seats on the sofas. They chose a corner. Jiang Qing pulled out practice problems to grind through, while Gu Yining stared at a textbook, trying to memorize key points.

Before long, her vision blurred. Gu Yining looked up at the small lights on the ceiling; the glow looked like marshmallows. The more she looked, the sleepier she got. She stood up and went to the tea bar to buy two drinks: a red bean milk tea for Jiang Qing and a lemon tea to wake herself up.

A few more minutes passed. She was awake, but the textbook was still indecipherable. The neat characters looked like swarming ants. Dazed, her knees began to feel numb. She stood up, pretending to browse, and wandered through the shelves.

The result was Gu Yining returning to the sofa with several magazines. Catching Jiang Qing’s gaze, she felt a wave of guilt. “Tired of studying, just a little entertainment, haha.”

The magazines were Tao Yao and Ru Nan, popular short story magazines for students. In a few years, web literature would rise and these physical copies would vanish. Touching the familiar paper after twenty years felt surreal. Gu Yining was soon lost in the dramatic tales of love and hate.

The clock on the wall turned silently. The sound of turning pages and birds chirping outside blended into a rhythmic white noise.

Jiang Qing let out a breath, moved her workbook to the corner of the table, and met a pair of dark eyes that had been staring at her for a long time. “Watching me for so long… hungry? Want to go eat?”

The open magazine hid the lower half of Gu Yining’s face. She blinked, her lashes framing her eyes into crescents. “I found a picture that looks just like you.”

Gu Yining placed the magazine in front of Jiang Qing, pointing to an illustration. It was a delicate black-and-white drawing of a beauty with her hair pinned high, adorned with pearl flowers. The face was refined and vivid, with eyes like bright stars.

“Doesn’t it look like you?” Gu Yining urged, as if seeking credit.

Jiang Qing looked at it. “I don’t see it.”

“The eyes are very similar!” Gu Yining pointed to the mouth. “The vibe is the same too. I can’t describe it, but I thought of you the first moment I saw it.”

Jiang Qing’s individual features weren’t particularly bold, but together they were harmoniously beautiful. Her skin, like mutton-fat jade, seemed to glow in the light. Gu Yining silently folded the corner of that page.

As it approached noon, they packed up. Passing the checkout, Jiang Qing noticed Gu Yining buying the magazine. “Haven’t you finished it? Why buy it?”

Gu Yining didn’t usually collect magazines. The campus card beeped. “I think the picture looks like you. I like it a lot.” Realizing she might sound “frivolous” again, she added, “Also, I like several of the stories in here. I want to read them again.”

Jiang Qing didn’t mind. As they walked down the steps, the piercing sunlight hit Jiang Qing’s temple. Her vision went black, and she felt a stabbing pain. She leaned against Gu Yining, shrinking back for a few seconds until her sight returned.

The weekend campus was quiet. A dozen pigeons foraged on the stone path, taking flight as the girls approached. A phone vibrated—it was Zhou Xuening. “Hello, Auntie Zhou.”

Under the rustling trees, Jiang Qing walked away to give her space. She stepped on a dry leaf; with a crisp crunch, it shattered into tiny fragments. She looked down, stepping on her own shadow.

When the call ended, Gu Yining came over to take her arm. Jiang Qing smiled. “Ms. Zhou cares about you a lot.”

“Of course, Auntie Zhou is a great person. Didn’t you say before that she’s trustworthy?”

“Did I?” Jiang Qing didn’t quite remember. Hearing that voice fussing over Gu Yining made her feel a way she couldn’t describe, but she didn’t like hearing it. She knew Zhou Xuening was equally devoted to Gu Xi; the woman wanted to marry into the Gu family, so she had to please the children. Since Zhou was the one who found Gu Yining in this life, Gu Yining’s path would likely be smoother.

Jiang Qing was lost in thought until a nudge hit her elbow. “Hmm? Sorry, I zoned out.”

“I asked what you want for lunch.”

“Not sure. Whatever you want is fine.”

“I want Malatang!”

“Okay, Malatang it is.”

As their voices faded, a pale, cold-faced figure stepped out from the corner of the teaching building. Tan Baozhu watched their retreating backs with a sneer. Her mouth felt bitter; she desperately needed something to bite on. She cursed under her breath at the security camera, turned around, and shielded a lighter with her hands. A faint click was lost in the wind.

A moment later, the girl was dangling a cigarette from her lips, light blue smoke drifting up. The sky was dimming.

In the little woods, a boy laid his school jacket on a stone bench for Tan Baozhu. She sat down. The boy sat opposite her; despite the cold, he wore only a short-sleeved shirt under his open jacket, shivering while trying to look tough. She let out a sweet, silk-like laugh. “Are you cold?”

The boy immediately straightened his back. “I’m strong. Not cold.”

Tan Baozhu played with her phone. After a while, she said, “I don’t want to go to evening self-study.”

The boy stared at her exquisite face. “Then don’t go. You aren’t a dorm student; it’s optional today. Are you going straight home?”

Tan Baozhu leaned on her hand, her eyes flashing. “Can I go to your house?”

The boy stood up abruptly, trembling. “My… my house?” His joy was quickly crushed by worry. “No… my parents are home.”

Tan Baozhu giggled until her whole body shook. Nearby pigeons took flight in alarm. She stopped laughing, her gaze following the birds. “I’ll roast and eat you sooner or later.” Then, she tilted her head innocently. “I was joking. What were you thinking?”

The boy’s face flushed red. What a boring reaction, Tan Baozhu thought. She pulled out another long, thin cigarette. “Got a lighter?”

The boy checked the surroundings before offering her a flame. The spark illuminated her white skin. She took a satisfied puff. As she exhaled a blue smoke ring, a sharp voice barked from the side: “Which class is smoking?”

That meddling tone could only belong to a teacher. She flicked the cigarette to the ground, crushing the orange ember with her foot. Seeing the boy’s panic, she sneered before looking at the newcomer.

It was a young female teacher. Tan Baozhu’s gaze landed on the woman’s swaying hips, and she raised a brow. Good body, terrible fashion.

As the woman approached the streetlamp, Tan Baozhu recognized her: Jian Wenxin, the head teacher of Class 1.

The woman walked to the stone table and looked at the cigarette. “Who was smoking this?”

Tan Baozhu glanced at the boy whose eyes were darting around—useless, she thought. She took a breath, not even looking at Jian Wenxin. “Don’t know. Who was it?” She giggled. “Teacher, do you need something else?”

It was almost dark. Even if Jian Wenxin saw her, so what? The cameras couldn’t see this spot. She could just say the teacher was slandering her.