Diagnosis: Friend [Rebirth] - Chapter 27

Chapter 27

Jiang Qing got into the car clutching her backpack. The Mercedes made a U-turn at the intersection and drove steadily into the night.

Before long, the car entered the Anhe city center. Unfamiliar scenery retreated rapidly outside the window. Jiang Qing broke the silence: “Where are you taking me?”

Zhou Xuening glanced at the girl. “It’s too late; you won’t be able to get back into the school. I’ll take you to my place to rest first.”

The car drove into a residential complex and stopped in front of a building. Jiang Qing followed Zhou Xuening into the elevator and then into the apartment.

Having changed into slippers, Jiang Qing sat constrainedly on the living room sofa. A moment later, Zhou Xuening emerged from the bedroom with a pair of pajamas and handed them to her. “It’s late. Rest after you’ve showered. You’ll sleep in this room. You can take a taxi to school yourself tomorrow morning.”

Jiang Qing took the pajamas and nodded softly. “Okay.”

Ten minutes later.

Thick, moist white steam obscured her vision. Jiang Qing wrapped herself in a bath towel, dried her body, changed into the pajamas, and stood before the mirror. After some searching, she finally found a hairdryer in the cabinet under the sink. As she pressed the button, flying droplets of water landed on the counter.

The mirror was covered in a layer of mist. Jiang Qing filled a cup with water and splashed it against the glass; the mist shattered and slid away. In the mirror, the girl pursed her lips, her shallow dimples faintly visible.

When Jiang Qing pushed the bathroom door open, a strong smell of alcohol hit her. Zhou Xuening was leaning back on the sofa. She set a wine bottle down on the coffee table—perhaps she was too tired to hold it, as it landed with a heavy thud that sounded almost intentional.

Realizing someone had entered the room, Zhou Xuening turned to look. The girl was wearing oversized pajamas, looking even thinner than usual, with a large patch of skin below her collarbone exposed. Zhou Xuening stared at the girl’s features; suddenly, her eyes trembled. She slowly lowered her head, her focus scattering. Pressing a hand to her forehead with an exhausted expression, she said, “Go back to sleep.”

Jiang Qing said, “Okay.”

As she pushed the bedroom door open, Jiang Qing heard the person behind her lift the bottle again, the liquid gurgling down her throat. The hand gripping the doorknob stiffened for a second. Jiang Qing blinked, then stepped into the bedroom and closed the door.

Waking in the middle of the night, Jiang Qing reached for her phone by the pillow. In the darkness, the screen suddenly lit up, the brightness instantly dispelling her drowsiness. It was 1:30 AM.

She turned the screen off and stared at the dark ceiling. Her body was sunk into the soft mattress, but her peripheral vision caught the door. A sliver of space existed between the door and the floor, and through that small gap, a yellowish-white light bled into the room. It was 1:30 AM, and the living room lights were still on. Zhou Xuening wasn’t asleep.

She was lying facedown on the sofa, her snow-white arm draped over the edge with her forearm dangling in mid-air. Several wine bottles lay scattered messily on the floor. Jiang Qing didn’t notice them as she approached and nearly tripped. The bottle she stepped on rolled across the floor with a clatter, disappearing into the gap beneath the sofa and hitting something with a sharp ding.

The woman on the sofa groaned and lifted her left hand to press it against her cheek. Her right face was buried in the sofa cushions, and her thick hair was a wild mess over her left face, like weeds growing rampantly before a tombstone.

Jiang Qing slowly squatted down. The heavy scent of alcohol drifted over. For some reason, she felt nervous as she reached out to gently brush the strands of hair away from Zhou Xuening’s face. Without makeup, the woman’s face looked soft and clean, like plain water sliding through a palm—icy and cool.

“Ms. Zhou?” Jiang Qing called.

Zhou Xuening let out a whimper, then frowned, lifting a hand to shield her face.

Jiang Qing adjusted her position to help support Zhou Xuening to the bedroom. Zhou Xuening was, after all, an adult larger than her; Jiang Qing exhausted all her strength to get the woman into the master bedroom, bumping into walls, the sofa, and doors multiple times along the way.

Just as they reached the bedside, Zhou Xuening’s upper body shifted. Jiang Qing lost her grip, and Zhou Xuening slammed onto the bed, her torso prone on the mattress while her legs still dangled off the edge in a bowing posture. Perhaps the fall hurt, as the drunken woman spat out a curse word involving a mother.

Jiang Qing: “…”

She squeezed her aching wrists and looked at the motionless drunk, certain she wouldn’t wake up. “Zhou Xuening, you’d better get rid of that bad habit.”

She stepped forward to flip Zhou Xuening over, helped her off with her shoes, lifted her legs onto the bed, and spread the quilt over her. With the tasks finished, Jiang Qing wiped the sweat from her face. She was about to go to the bathroom to wash her face and get rid of the smell of alcohol when she heard the woman mumble something.

Jiang Qing turned back, her expression dark as she looked at the woman on the bed. She leaned over her, their similar features slowly magnifying. The room was quiet; the smell of wine sprayed against Jiang Qing’s face with every breath Zhou Xuening took. The smell was truly unpleasant. Jiang Qing fanned the air with her hand, then asked in a slow, forceful tone: “What did you just say?”

“Mom…” Zhou Xuening’s lips parted slightly, the word unclear. She suddenly twitched, her beautiful face wrinkling instantly, her distinct eyelashes soaking into wet clumps. “Why treat me like this… why, why treat me like this… I hate you, I hate you to death…”

The woman’s quiet lament continued as she curled into a small ball, trembling beneath the quilt.

“You treated me the same way,” Jiang Qing inhaled deeply, gently patting the woman’s back. Her voice was as faint as a mosquito’s: “Zhou Xuening.”

The rhythmic patting slowly took effect. Ten minutes later, the woman on the bed fell into a deep sleep.

Perhaps because she had woken up in the middle of the night, Jiang Qing slept heavily the next morning. When she woke up, it was already 10:00 AM. Bright sunlight streamed through the window.

Jiang Qing got up and opened the window. The cold wind whistled in, making her shiver, and she immediately shut it again. The sun was nice, but the weather was still freezing; the brightness was just an illusion to trick people.

The living room had already been cleaned. The messy wine bottles were gone, the sofa cover had been changed, and aromatherapy was burning on the coffee table, its somewhat strong scent masking the residual smell of alcohol. The door to the master bedroom was open; Jiang Qing peeked inside, but the room was empty, the quilt neatly folded on the bed.

A new friend request appeared on her WeChat. The note read “Zhou Xuening.” Jiang Qing rested her chin on her hand and thought for a long time before her index finger tapped the “Accept” button.

Her stomach growled twice, and her phone chimed twice with new messages. They were from Zhou Xuening.

“There is milk and bread in the fridge. If you’re hungry, you can heat them in the microwave.”

“Do you know how to use a microwave?”

The sixteen-year-old village girl Jiang Qing might not have, but the reborn twenty-nine-year-old Jiang Qing did. Just as she opened the fridge to find the bread, Zhou Xuening sent an image showing how to use the microwave.

Jiang Qing replied: “Thank you.”

A few minutes later, Jiang Qing took out the heated milk and sliced bread and sat cross-legged on the sofa. She had to admit, being an exquisite city lady wasn’t for everyone—the bread tasted like chaff to her, something she couldn’t stomach even after two lifetimes.

Pale sunlight poured through the large floor-to-ceiling windows. The light reflected off the floor tiles right onto Jiang Qing. She stood up to move, but her phone suddenly rang. It was Gu Yining.

“Jiang Qing?”

Jiang Qing took a bite of the bread. “Mhm, it’s Jiang Qing.”

“Are you in the village, or on your way back?” Gu Yining asked.

Jiang Qing had actually said yesterday that she would return today, but Gu Yining was always worried—especially given what had happened to Jiang Qing in Xiaoyang Village before. Hearing her voice was the only thing that gave Gu Yining peace of mind.

Jiang Qing looked toward the window. “Mhm, on my way back. I’ll be at school before afternoon classes start.” She suddenly realized something. “You didn’t skip class to call me, did you?”

Gu Yining was squatting in the little woods, her phone pressed against her neck under her school jacket to hide it. “No, the last period is P.E. I came to call you during free activity time.” She shook her head as if seeking credit: “I didn’t skip class.”

Hearing the chewing sounds over the phone, she asked, “Are you eating breakfast?”

Jiang Qing swallowed the food and said, “Mhm, I woke up late. Only eating now.”

Gu Yining: “The sun is very nice today.”

Jiang Qing nodded, an unconscious smile forming. “Mhm, I see it.”

Gu Yining raised her hand toward the sky. Sunlight filtered through the trees, covering her flesh and bone until it almost burst through her skin with an orange-red glow. The rustling of leaves echoed the wind. Gu Yining blinked. “It’s so quiet on your end.”

No engine noises, no wind, no voices.

The smooth floor reflected bright patches of light. Jiang Qing sat on the soft sofa, her half-exposed calves appearing as white as snow in the sun. “Mhm. I’m waiting for the bus at the station right now. I get motion sickness and didn’t want to smell the gasoline, so I walked to the furthest waiting hall. There aren’t many people.”

“Mhm,” Gu Yining said. “Stay safe.” She looked down, picked up a dry leaf, and crushed it to ash with a snap, the powder sliding through her fingers.

Gu Yining saw Jiang Qing around 1:00 PM. She hadn’t taken a nap today; instead, she brought a book and sat in the small pavilion in front of the girls’ dormitory. The pavilion was elevated, providing a clear view of everyone entering or leaving the dorm.

She wasn’t sitting there specifically to wait for Jiang Qing; she just didn’t feel well today, sensing the onset of her period. That discomfort reached its peak when she smelled perfume on Jiang Qing. It was a faint scent—not unpleasant, but slightly astringent.

Using the excuse of comforting her, Gu Yining hugged her, taking the opportunity to sniff the scent that didn’t belong to Jiang Qing. She discovered with a mix of grief and anger that she seemed to have smelled this scent before, though she couldn’t place where.

Jiang Qing quickly struggled out of the hug. She glanced down at the book on the table, the question marks in her mind almost manifesting physically: “You didn’t take a nap and came here to read?” She thought Gu Yining had lost her mind.

Gu Yining nodded shamelessly.

“Oh, okay.” Jiang Qing took a step back, glancing at the dormitory entrance. “Then keep reading. I’m going back to the dorm.”

The cold wind blew, and the pages of the book on the stone table finally flipped. Gu Yining watched Jiang Qing’s back and rubbed her nose. As Jiang Qing walked down the stone steps, her high ponytail bouncing, Gu Yining grabbed her book and ran to block her path.

It was only a few steps, but Gu Yining was breathing heavily. She took Jiang Qing’s hand and pressed a piece of candy into her palm. “You’ll feel better if you eat something sweet. Life and death are fated, and besides, Grandma’s was a ‘joyous funeral.’ If you’re sad, she won’t be happy up in heaven either.”

The plastic wrapper crinkled in her palm with a faint rustling sound. Jiang Qing smiled softly. “I’m not sa—”

Her unfinished sentence was interrupted by a sudden teardrop. Jiang Qing was startled; she reached up to touch her face, and the cold liquid against her skin confirmed she was indeed crying. She froze, then tried to speak again: “I…”

Unexpectedly, her voice broke. The sound of her sobbing was like the intermittent notes of a string instrument. She covered her face with her hands and was instantly pulled into Gu Yining’s embrace.

On the road back, in the hall where the coffin lay, in Zhou Xuening’s home—Jiang Qing hadn’t felt this much sorrow in any of those places. Yet, after just a few words from Gu Yining, the grief seemed to be triggered, pouring out all at once. Jiang Qing’s hand still gripped the candy, the wrapper itching against her palm.

Cold sunlight fell on the two of them, casting a round shadow at their feet.

Jiang Qing had only taken a day and a half off, but several exam papers were already piled in her desk.

“This one was already covered this morning, you don’t need to do it.” Yang Lei leaned her shoulder against Jiang Qing’s, pulling out the top sheet. “Ms. Jian from math said we don’t have to hand this in, so you can skip it. This physics one from Mr. Wang will be covered tonight, so you’d better write something on it…”

Jiang Qing nodded dizzily, then smiled at her seatmate. “Thank you.”

Yang Lei shook her head, saying it was no trouble. Then, she hunched over mysteriously and pulled something from her schoolbag, gesturing for Jiang Qing to lean in and help block the view. Soon, a delicately packaged small box appeared in Jiang Qing’s hand. Stunned, Jiang Qing looked at Yang Lei.

Yang Lei covered her mouth with one hand and whispered in Jiang Qing’s ear: “Today is Christmas Eve.”

Inside the box was an exquisite, beautiful apple. To curb the penetration of Western holidays, the school had banned celebrating Christmas Eve and Christmas, so Yang Lei had to give it to her secretly.

Jiang Qing looked at the pretty box and smiled. “Thank you, classmate Yang.”

This was the first year the school had strictly banned “foreign holidays.” Jian Wenxin had repeatedly warned the class not to engage in any Christmas-related activities on campus. Consequently, this was the loneliest Christmas Jiang Qing had experienced in years. In the past, there were always class activities. Today, since it was also a Friday, Jiang Qing was the only one left in the dorm. It wasn’t that she loved Christmas that much; she just felt it should be a bit more lively today.

If it were livelier, she wouldn’t be distracted by the fact that today was actually her birthday.

Gu Yining had gone home too. When she and Gu Xi walked out of the school side-by-side, Jiang Qing watched from upstairs. As the cold wind blew through the window, Jiang Qing couldn’t help but wonder if the person coming to pick them up was Zhou Xuening.

Unlike most children who are born from their parents’ expectations and love, Jiang Qing felt she was a product of intertwined hatred and lust. The hatred came from the woman, and the lust came from that man; after all, she had been so young and beautiful—how could she have ever wanted to marry Jiang Jinbao?

The villagers always said the mother was indecent, abandoning her newborn daughter to run away with another man. Jiang Qing used to believe this, harboring deep resentment. But during the first winter break of her freshman year of high school, when she was locked in a room and heard her biological father negotiating a deal with a strange man—the subject of the deal being her—she suddenly understood why Zhou Xuening had run.

She could at least seek help from Jian Wenxin and the police, yet she still encountered massive resistance. Ten years ago, Zhou Xuening hadn’t been in school, and the words of parents and matchmakers were law. Zhou Xuening had no options. Perhaps Jiang Jinbao let his guard down after the daughter was born, and she seized that once-in-a-lifetime chance to flee.

The story that she “ran away with a wild man” didn’t have a shred of credibility. After all, when Jian Wenxin drove to Xiaoyang Village to rescue her with police cars behind her, rumors still claimed Jiang Qing had hooked up with a powerful man from society and that was why she could call the police.

Now, Jiang Qing understood Zhou Xuening, yet she still hated her. She hated her for not being able to protect herself back then, hated her for giving birth to her, and hated her for being so decisive in leaving without ever considering taking her along.

Winter nights fell early. Jiang Qing packed her things and went downstairs. The streetlights in front of the teaching building were already lit. Standing under the light, her breath turned into white mist, looking from afar like smoke rings. The girl stood quietly under the lamp, appearing like a painting.

A sudden phone call broke the scene. Seeing the name “Gu Yining” on the screen, Jiang Qing froze. The phone rang for several seconds before she answered, feeling as if waking from a dream. Gu Yining had a package that had just arrived at the school and asked her to pick it up from the station at the front gate; there was nothing else.

Jiang Qing hung up, feeling a sense of loss. After a long time, she took a deep breath and shrugged her shoulders with feigned indifference.

After taking her books back to the dorm, Jiang Qing went to the front gate to get Gu Yining’s package. As she walked out, her phone died from low battery. She put the phone in her pocket, and suddenly her hand was caught by a soft, small hand.

“Sister.” A little girl tugged her hand and pulled a flyer from her arms to hand to her. “Sister, this is the opening event for my mother’s cake shop. Do you want to come and see?”

Jiang Qing took the flyer, but the child ran off in a flash. She looked down to read it when she was startled by a sharp honk. A black car was parked by the road. The window rolled down, and Zhou Xuening tilted her head toward her. “Get in.”

Jiang Qing stared at her for a long time until someone behind honked in protest. “Oh,” Jiang Qing said, hurriedly climbing into the passenger seat.

Zhou Xuening asked: “You don’t have anything to do tonight, right?”

Jiang Qing shook her head, then remembered the woman was driving and couldn’t see her. “No.”

Behind the green belt, Gu Yining’s head was nearly steaming with anger. She hadn’t expected to be intercepted.

Today was Christmas, and it was also Jiang Qing’s birthday. She had carefully prepared a surprise for her. To avoid arousing suspicion and make the effect better, she had even pretended to get into the car with Gu Xi after school.

After preparing everything, she called Jiang Qing. Jiang Qing came out to get the “delivery,” the little girl gave her the flyer for the cake shop, and was supposed to lead Jiang Qing to her favorite cake shop.

The first error: the child she had paid a high price for forgot her lines, threw the flyer at Jiang Qing, and ran. Gu Yining looked down at the child squatting beside her eating chocolate.

The second error: Jiang Qing suddenly got into a car. She watched from the greenery, failing to see the plate or the person inside. In the blink of an eye, Jiang Qing was gone.

The third error: The “The number you have dialed is powered off” message played again. In the night, Gu Yining cut the call, racking her brain over Jiang Qing’s social circle. She couldn’t guess who would pick her up. She suddenly thought of the day before yesterday—the quiet background when she called Jiang Qing and the scent of perfume she had smelled on her.

The other person was a woman, and Gu Yining sensed that Jiang Qing wasn’t willing for her to know about it. Was the person from that day the same as the one today?

Unable to figure it out, Gu Yining simply sat down next to the little girl. The girl glanced at her and clutched her chocolate in terror: “You said it was mine.”

Gu Yining squatted on the steps for a while until her legs went numb, then changed her posture to sit on the steps. She called Jiang Qing several more times, but the phone remained off. She waited for a long time, chin in her hand, until it began to rain.

Night shrouded the bustling city, neon lights shimmering with an ambiguous glow through the hazy moisture. At first, it was just a few scattered drops tapping against the window; eventually, they became dense, racing to smash against the glass.

Soothing music played in the car. Jiang Qing leaned against the window to look out. “It’s raining.” Her breath hit the glass, and a hazy mist instantly blocked her view.

The car drove to the top of a mountain, stopping at the edge of a cliff. The rain stopped. This was the mountain with the best view in Anhe; the lights of the entire city were visible. Five or six cars were parked around the cliff, seemingly all there for the night view.

“Not just that.” Zhou Xuening unbuckled her seatbelt and got out. “There’s a meteor shower tonight.”

The sky was dim, with only a few stars discernible. The mountain wind blew against them, sending Zhou Xuening’s yellow skirt billowing upward, occasionally brushing against Jiang Qing’s school uniform pants.

“Aren’t you cold?” Jiang Qing asked sincerely.

Zhou Xuening opened the trunk, the car interior lighting up. She placed a soft cushion down, sat on it, and waved to Jiang Qing. “Come up.”

It was a rare moment of warmth between them. Jiang Qing felt awkward but complied, sitting beside her with her legs dangling. “What on earth are you…”

What was Zhou Xuening trying to do?

Before she could finish, Jiang Qing saw Zhou Xuening pull out a small cake. She froze, her eyes suddenly shifting away. In either this life or the last, she and Zhou Xuening couldn’t be called family. In her previous life, she hated Zhou Xuening’s abandonment, and Zhou Xuening was terrified by her appearance; they wore masks and tested each other, while tacitly keeping their secrets.

Zhou Xuening laughed. “It’s Christmas. Have some cake.”

The sweetness of the cake drifted out, mixing with the damp scent of the earth after the rain. Jiang Qing gave a low “Mhm,” looking down at the small, cute cake.

After sticking a candle into the cake, Zhou Xuening pulled a lighter from her pocket and leaned down to light it. The wind on the mountain was strong. After several failed clicks, a pair of fair hands cupped around the lighter.

Zhou Xuening looked up at the girl and suddenly smiled.