I Am Her Secret Beauty - Chapter 52

Nan Xi ultimately snuffed out that cigarette, tossing it listlessly onto the table as if she had already lost interest.

Or perhaps she had never been interested in the first place. The smoke was so bitter and choking that she had to suppress the urge to cough just to inhale it, all just to intimidate Mu Xi.

“Wow,” she remarked without any real emotion. “If I’d known, I should’ve befriended Wu Quan. Then I could take you to her hospital for a proper check-up.”

“…It’s not the psychiatric department, is it?”

“Or neurology.”

Nan Xi’s face was full of mockery, her gaze toward Mu Xi dripping with disdain.

Mu Xi had known it would turn out like this.

If she hadn’t experienced it herself, she wouldn’t have believed it either.

But it had truly happened to her, so what was she supposed to do?

Feeling rather dejected, Mu Xi wrapped herself in the blanket and shuffled back to the bed, curling into a white ball against the headboard, looking utterly pitiable.

Seeing her like that, Nan Xi actually wavered for a moment.

“Then tell me, what was the world you came from like?”

Maybe she needed to see a doctor herself, how could she even consider believing such nonsense, the kind of lies a scummy alpha would spin to deceive an innocent omega?

But Mu Xi began to furrow her brows in deep thought, shrinking into herself as she sank into profound memories.

Nan Xi was startled by her expression, the gloom and sorrow didn’t seem feigned.

What if what she said was actually true? Science was, after all, full of infinite possibilities. The concept of parallel universes had grown increasingly accepted over the years, and as a scientific researcher, she ought to maintain reverence for such ideas.

Then her earlier reaction must have been hurtful. Here was a lost soul, drifting alone in a foreign world, and she had responded with such sarcasm…

“I don’t know,” Mu Xi told her helplessly. “I can’t remember.”

Her chaotic thoughts seemed to hit an impenetrable barrier whenever they touched upon this matter. No matter how hard Mu Xi tried, she couldn’t break through.

She had no choice but to give up, only then remembering that Nan Xi was still waiting for an answer in the real world.

Mu Xi regretfully conveyed her apology with her eyes.

But she noticed Nan Xi’s lips twitch slightly, unsure what emotional turmoil was unfolding in her heart.

Unaware that, in the brief moment she had been lost in thought, Nan Xi had already chosen to believe her and even felt pity for her, Mu Xi assumed Nan Xi still thought she was spouting nonsense.

“But there’s one thing… I need to tell you very seriously.”

Nan Xi couldn’t cry or laugh. “What is it?”

“It’s the matter I’ve been avoiding all along.” Mu Xi took a deep breath. “I know you still love her. In your eyes, I might just be a… substitute? I don’t want to hurt you, but since we’ve come this far, I have to remind you, the previous Mu Xi is most likely dead.”

Nan Xi fell into a long silence.

Mu Xi rarely saw her like this.

She hung her head, arms crossed over her chest, her gaze uncertain, whether fixed on herself or the carpet. Leaning against the chair without a word, it was hard for Mu Xi to guess what she was feeling: sorrow, anger, or absurdity.

Mu Xi couldn’t predict the outcome, so she could only trace backward to deduce the reason why Nan Xi had become like this. Was it because she had told her that her former love had passed away, causing her to shut herself off, or…

It must be because of that, what else could it be?

She knew better than anyone how important that person held in Nan Xi’s heart. It was that person’s past that had shaped Mu Xi’s present. Though she was reluctant to admit it, that was the truth.

Nan Xi remained in a self-imposed silence for about half an hour, neither speaking nor moving, sitting in place like a statue.

Mu Xi kept watching her, afraid to miss any expression that might break her heart.

After half an hour, Nan Xi slowly reached out, felt for her phone on the table, and began typing on it.

She was sending a message to someone.

…She was sending a message to someone???

After such a significant event, Nan Xi’s first reaction was to send a message.

Mu Xi immediately grew tense and asked, “Who are you messaging?”

“Dr. Anna. If she tells me she’s not skilled in neurological diagnosis, I’ll ask her to bring another doctor she trusts.”

Nan Xi replied coldly, without looking up, “No offense, but I have to rule out the most basic possibilities first. It’s better for both of us that way.”

“…There’s nothing wrong with my mind.”

“About that, the doctor will tell us, okay, dear?”

Nan Xi put down her phone, and the distinct “click” of metal against the wooden table made Mu Xi’s heart tremble. After sending the message to Anna, Nan Xi finally looked up, leaning forward but gazing indifferently at Mu Xi.

Mu Xi wasn’t familiar with that expression, but she felt as if she were merely a subject of Nan Xi’s research. What Nan Xi would do next was analyze her and find the answers.

“First, I want to say it’s truly disappointing, you don’t seem to be lying to me at all.”

Nan Xi said, “That worries me because I have no idea under what circumstances you said those things.”

She didn’t give Mu Xi a chance to speak and continued:

“I’m very dissatisfied with what you just said, not angry, but very displeased. You’re not only slandering and defaming my lover, but you’re doing the same to yourself.”

“Mu Xi, do you feel helpless right now because I don’t believe you? But I’m going through the same thing as you.”

“My lover is standing right in front of me, clear as day, yet she insists she’s already dead.”

At this point, Nan Xi finally paused. Her eyes, devoid of expression, appeared sharp and imposing, a reflection of Nan Zhiya’s shadow in her.

Mu Xi had a chance to speak, but she only moved her lips, unable to utter a single word.

…Yes, they both had their own convictions. If she was feeling helpless and desperate right now, then Nan Xi was experiencing the same.

Realizing this, Mu Xi was left speechless.

She lowered her head in shame, realizing she had been too focused on expressing her own feelings and had failed to consider Nan Xi’s emotions.

When she tried to check on Nan Xi’s condition again because she had been silent for too long, she was startled to find Nan Xi still staring at her, two clear streams of tears silently flowing from her eyes, trailing down her chin and dripping onto the carpet.

That scene would remain etched in Mu Xi’s memory for a long time to come.

Mu Xi had seen Nan Xi cry before, sometimes from joy, other times from frustration. But this time, it felt like the first time Nan Xi was crying from sorrow and despair. How could someone with such a bright future and endless possibilities feel so hopeless?

And the cause of it all was Mu Xi herself. A part of her heart silently crumbled.

She wondered if it was still too late to reach out and hold Nan Xi.

“You can’t underestimate my love like this, you idiot. I know exactly who you are. You’re Mu Xi, the same Mu Xi from five years ago. Even if you don’t recognize yourself, I’ll always recognize you. You didn’t die. You are her, and she is you.”

Nan Xi suppressed the bitterness rising in her throat, forcing herself to speak as calmly as possible.

Yet tears continued to stream down her face, and Mu Xi’s heart shattered along with hers.

Without another moment of hesitation, Mu Xi stepped forward and wrapped her arms around the weeping woman.

Nan Xi didn’t push her away. Instead, she buried herself in the soft quilt draped over Mu Xi, burying herself in its warmth and in Mu Xi’s embrace.

…

After Nan Xi’s earnest and heartfelt words the previous night, Mu Xi had been unable to sleep, turning the events over and over in her mind.

Just as Nan Xi had said, she couldn’t underestimate Nan Xi’s love. If Nan Xi was so certain that she was the same person from back then, then there was no reason for Mu Xi to doubt it.

Especially since, when Nan Xi asked about her life before the “transmigration,” Mu Xi’s mind went completely blank.

Of course, she could explain it away with fantastical theories, barriers between worlds, memory loss during the crossing…

But Nan Xi was certain.

So, this could only serve as further proof, another piece of evidence supporting Nan Xi’s claims.

Thinking this way, Mu Xi felt a sense of relief. The worries about being a replacement or a mere pastime vanished. Nan Xi’s love was so profound that Mu Xi felt unworthy of it, and she resolved to strive to be better, to be more deserving of that love.

Maybe she really should consider pursuing a degree in military strategy? Learning more about how Nan Xi’s family business operated seemed like a good idea too.

As these thoughts drifted through her mind, the sky began to lighten with the first hints of dawn. By the time the sun had fully risen, Nan Xi stirred awake beside her, while Mu Xi remained wide awake, not feeling the slightest bit tired.

When Nan Xi brought her to the greenhouse garden and they met Dr. Anna, who had arrived with her assistant, Mu Xi was so embarrassed she wished she could vanish into the ground.

She whispered to Nan Xi, “I already believe you, really. Is this necessary…?”

Nan Xi’s response was firm. “We need to rule out the simplest possibilities first.”

Reluctantly, Mu Xi complied with Dr. Anna’s brain examination.

Dr. Anna smiled brightly, having long sensed something unusual between the two. This time, she didn’t even bother pretending otherwise. After all, every time she was called to the Nan residence beyond routine check-ups, she received a generous payment and got to witness another fascinating chapter in this wealthy family’s drama. She was more than happy to play along.

She even teased Mu Xi good-naturedly, “The butler looks just as beautiful even without the uniform.”

“Of course she does,” Nan Xi answered first, humming with satisfaction.

No longer the Nan family’s housekeeper, Mu Xi sat down in casual clothes and began fitting the EEG device onto her head under the gaze of three pairs of eyes, connecting it to the sophisticated medical equipment beside her.

Mu Xi still felt extremely awkward, not only because she was being watched so intently, but also because the nature of the examination was utterly… mortifying. She hardly dared to imagine whether Nan Xi, in her anger last night, had messaged Anna with something like: “Come check if my butler has something wrong with her brain.”

After a series of meticulous examinations, the four of them sat in the greenhouse, chatting over tea. Since Mu Xi could no longer fulfill her duties as butler, the task of serving tea was taken over by the Nan family’s domestic staff. As they passed by her, Mu Xi could clearly see their expressions of shock, as if they had seen a ghost. There was no need to guess, Xiao Ji had already broadcast her affair with Nan Xi to the entire household department.

Once she managed to pass Nan Xi’s “graduation requirements,” she would still have to face the overwhelming… admiration or teasing from the domestic staff.

At this thought, Mu Xi unconsciously straightened her posture, her eyes filled with anxious anticipation. Unable to hold back any longer, she asked Anna, “Dr. Anna, when will the test results be ready? My brain should be fine, right?”

“They’re out now. Please wait a moment while I take a look.”

Anna took the freshly printed report from her assistant and began reading it unhurriedly.

As she read, her expression gradually grew serious.

Mu Xi and Nan Xi’s eyes widened in unison.

“There really is. I mean, there do seem to be some issues with your brain.”