Diagnosis: Friend [Rebirth] - Chapter 31.1

Chapter 31.1

A light rain fell upon a silent, desolate funeral.

The sky was swallowed by gloomy clouds, and a fine, dense drizzle drifted down, weaving a mist that blanketed the world. The moisture clung clammily to the skin, and black clothes, soaked through with mist, felt leaden and heavy.

Not many people attended the funeral.

A woman dressed in black stood quietly in the center of the hall. Her dark garments seemed to pull at her, as if trying to swallow her alive. Her face was as pale as paper, devoid of a single drop of blood, like a lifeless paper flower.

According to protocol, the family should have carried the urn to the burial site. However, the deceased had no family, and the woman was unwilling to let the deceased’s biological relatives attend. Thus, it was the woman who carried the urn all the way up the mountain.

The middle-aged woman beside her, seeing the dark circles under her eyes, offered to carry it so she could rest. The woman shook her head, her hands gripping the urn tightly. Her stiff lips tried to quirk into a smile to show she was fine and to ease the older woman’s worry.

But she failed.

Her lips felt as if they were weighed down by thousands of pounds of iron; she couldn’t lift them no matter how hard she tried. Lowering her head to look at the urn in her arms, two lines of tears suddenly fell, splashing heavily against the black surface.

The rain grew heavier, slapping against her face with a rhythmic sting.

Once the ashes were interred, the woman prepared to drive to the next location. Seeing her dazed and unstable state, Zhou Xuening stopped her, opening the driver’s side door before she could. “I’ll drive.”

The woman was momentarily stunned, her face devoid of expression. “Okay.”

The atmosphere in the car was stifling, as if they were still back at the cemetery. The dark air pressed against the windows. Feeling the suffocation, Zhou Xuening turned on the car radio.

“Hello, dear listeners, welcome to the Anhe News Live Room…”

“One week ago, on April 22, 2029, an incident occurred on Ping’an Road in our city involving a car plowing into pedestrians. This incident resulted in one death at the scene, two deaths after failed rescue attempts, six severe injuries, and ten minor injuries. The suspect, a man surnamed Zeng, has been detained by public security, and the case is under further investigation.”

Zhou Xuening slammed on the brakes. Her body lurched forward due to inertia before the car came to a halt behind the stop line two seconds later. Looking up, the red light at the intersection was piercingly bright.

The news broadcast continued.

Having been in the rain for so long, Zhou Xuening’s throat felt congested. She sniffled and reached out to turn off the radio.

“I heard that the Zeng family submitted medical records from previous years showing psychiatric treatment and medication. They are applying for a psychiatric evaluation. You should be prepared.”

Zhou Xuening’s throat bobbed, her voice trembling slightly. “If the evaluation shows he truly has a mental illness, there’s a high probability he won’t be sentenced to death.”

“Mhm.”

A long time passed before the woman in the passenger seat let out a low response, sounding like a stifled sob.

Dusk gradually pressed down, and the rain-mist grew thick. Something had happened on the road ahead, and cars were lined up in a long queue, crawling forward like snails. The brake lights glowed, creating a stinging sea of red.

The woman asked Zhou Xuening to pull over. She pushed open the door and stepped out. Zhou Xuening stared at the woman’s pale face with worry. “Xiao Ning, are you… are you alright?”

The woman waved her off, her voice as light as a snowflake. “I’m fine. You go back first, Auntie Zhou. I just want to walk around for a bit.”

She walked against the flow of traffic, the dim yellow streetlights falling on her with a bone-chilling cold. The rain intensified again.

Gu Yining walked aimlessly, soaked from head to toe. Her long hair, pinned up, had partially come loose under the beating rain, sticking silently to her pale skin. Finally, she stopped before a door.

She looked up to confirm the house number. This was the apartment Jiang Qing had rented. After the rain and days without sleep, Gu Yining’s migraine flared up. Her head throbbed agonizingly as she pounded on the door.

No one came to open it. In her daze, she remembered something, and her movements faltered. Then, like a stray dog, she walked back downstairs.

The small property management room was still lit. A few people were sitting on the sofa, chatting and eating melon seeds. They were startled by the dark silhouette pressed against the glass door, only realizing upon closer inspection that it was a woman in a black dress. A white flower was pinned to her chest; she looked like a beautiful, grieving young widow.

The woman was drenched and deathly pale, appearing utterly soul-shattered. She had come for the keys to Unit 1, Building 6, Room 402.

The woman at the desk stepped forward and recognized her as the person who had come a few days ago to handle the funeral arrangements for the tenant of 402. She found the spare key in the cabinet and handed it over. In truth, the woman had her own key, but perhaps because of the heavy rain and her haste, she had forgotten it.

Gu Yining returned to the fourth floor with the key. She turned on the light; the house was empty. On the coffee table in front of the sofa lay a medical report delivered by the hospital today.

She left muddy water stains on the clean wooden floor. Gu Yining bent over to change her shoes and, out of habit, quirked her lips as she looked toward the sofa.

But Jiang Qing was no longer sitting there, smiling softly at her. The space was empty, cold and hollow, like a pitch-black coffin.

Gu Yining lay down inside that coffin.

The report belonged to Jiang Qing. The hospital had contacted her to deliver it this morning, and Gu Yining had already read it—Jiang Qing had stomach cancer. She knew Jiang Qing hated eating breakfast and suffered from stomach aches, but she hadn’t known it was so severe.

She reached out, crumpled the report into a ball, and threw it into the trash.

The house was freezing. Her wet clothes quickly left a stain on the sofa. Gu Yining stared up at the stark white light, thinking of Jiang Qing with an unbearable intensity.

She thought of her beautiful face, the novel and soft sensation of her long eyelashes brushing against her palm, the faint dimples by her lips, her light gray eyes, and the way she smiled while pursing her lips.

Eventually, the stark white light turned into a piercing red. Gu Yining blinked, and the vibrant red began to flow. It seemed to carry a heavy, metallic scent of blood.

Gu Yining suddenly bolted upright and swept the glass on the coffee table onto the floor. It shattered into fragments with a crisp sound. She went straight to the kitchen, rummaging through the cabinets until she found a few bottles of alcohol hidden in the back.

She knew Jiang Qing had prepared these for her, because Jiang Qing didn’t really drink.

Gu Yining didn’t bother looking for an opener; she slammed the bottles against the edge of the table to break them open and poured the liquid down her throat. The jagged glass of the bottle neck cut her lips, and beads of blood rolled to the floor, mingling with the alcohol.

The bottles were soon emptied. Unsatisfied, she smashed them on the floor, glass shards flying everywhere. After three bottles and three smashed glasses, a neighbor from downstairs knocked on the door.

“Have you no sense of public decency? People are trying to sleep even if you aren’t!”

The door swung inward on its hinges, and a strong scent of alcohol wafted out. The resident took a step back, waving her hand in front of her nose. “Can’t you keep it down late at night? My kid has school tomorrow—”

The resident suddenly stopped. She saw the woman in the doorway dressed in black—clearly funeral attire—especially with the white flower on her chest. Then, she remembered the news about the girl who died on the spot; she had lived upstairs. This woman acting out in the middle of the night was likely her family.

Just as she was about to offer some words of condolence and ask her to be quiet, the woman spoke: “I’m sorry for just now. I disturbed you. I won’t make any more noise.”

The door closed. The house was a mess.

Gu Yining looked calmly at the shards on the floor, kicked aside a bottle, and walked straight into the bedroom. She smelled of alcohol and rain; on any other day, Jiang Qing would never have allowed her onto the bed.

She jumped onto the bed and rolled around in the quilt. The room was pitch black, with only a sliver of light from the living room peeking through the door. Gu Yining closed her eyes, hoping that in the next second, she would hear a certain person’s voice.

However, she stayed there until her headache forced her into a fetal position, cold sweat pouring down her pale face, but she never heard that voice.

That was the first time Gu Yining experienced the taste of losing someone. From then on, that taste would persist for ten years.

Gu Yining slowly opened her heavy eyes. The first thing she saw was a flawless white ceiling. Her gaze was hollow and dazed, her brows slightly furrowed as if she were still immersed in a painful memory.

The air was thick with the familiar, slightly oppressive smell of disinfectant. This scent, which she had once loathed, now gave her an inexplicable sense of security.

She began to piece together the memories before entering the hospital: the piercing tinnitus, the massive sound of impact—yes, a car accident. Another car accident…

Her breathing quickened, and the dormant tinnitus began to rise again. Her lips moved as if something were about to burst forth.

Then, Gu Xi slapped her on the leg.

All the noise vanished. Gu Yining stared blankly and turned to see Gu Xi sitting at the foot of the bed. She hadn’t even realized someone was there.

Gu Xi looked at her solemnly. “Gu Yining, should I call the doctor?”

Gu Yining shook her head and struggled to utter two words: “Car… accident.”

Remembering the name Gu Yining had been calling before she lost consciousness, Gu Xi hurried to say, “Jiang Qing is fine. She was walking on the overpass with her friend when it happened. And that taxi was parked on the side of the road with no one inside. The only person injured in the accident was the reckless driver; no one else was hurt.”

Gu Yining dropped her gaze silently. After a long while, she spoke: “Xixi, I must have scared you last night. I’m sorry.”

Having slept in her memories for too long, Gu Yining was a bit confused about the time. “How long was I out?”

Gu Xi rested her chin on her hand. “Just one night. You fainted last night.” She was curious but wasn’t sure if she should ask. After hesitating for a long time, she said, “Gu Yining, did something happen to you before… like, do you have a psychological trauma regarding car accidents?”

Gu Yining’s behavior was very similar to PTSD; that’s what Dr. Sun had told Gu Xi when she described the symptoms yesterday.

Her long eyelashes shadowed her eyes. Gu Yining didn’t speak, which was a silent admission.

Three knocks came from the door. Gu Yining said, “Come in.”

Dr. Sun Qian entered, followed by a young assistant in a white coat. She looked at the girl at the foot of the bed and reminded her, “Miss Gu, we need to perform a full body check on the patient. You’ll need to step out.”

After Gu Xi left, Sun Qian pulled a machine over while the assistant drew the curtain. Gu Yining had undergone this type of examination countless times before her rebirth, with the same doctor, Sun Qian. She cooperated with practiced ease. Sun Qian looked at the pale girl and raised an eyebrow in surprise.

The subsequent psychological tests and physical checks went smoothly.