Let Me Go, My Childhood Sweetheart [Rebirth] - Chapter 54

At dinner, even Jin Hai and Chu Zhenglong, two men not usually known for picking up on subtle social cues could tell the atmosphere between Chu Weiran and Jin Yi was off.

For their mothers, Jiang Qiong and Zheng Yuan, it was glaringly obvious.

Outside, the snow continued to fall, growing heavier by the minute, but inside the dining room, the hot pot was steaming. Today was Chu Weiran’s birthday, and since hot pot was her absolute favorite, the two mothers had prepared a feast. Auntie Zhang brought out the washed vegetables and fresh mutton, glancing at the two girls with a discerning eye. She had watched them grow up; they used to bicker constantly as children, but that had stopped years ago.

This current silence didn’t feel like a typical argument.

After Auntie Zhang retreated, Chu Zhenglong stood up to bring out the cake he had prepared. Knowing his daughter loved strawberries, he had picked out a two-tier strawberry cake.

“Ranran, Dad got your favorite flavor. Eat as much as you want today.”

Seeing everyone acting so cautiously around them, Chu Weiran didn’t want to keep them worried. She gave a small smile and nudged Jin Yi under the table. They both needed time to process the fact that their mutual suspicions about being reborn were likely true, but there was no actual “conflict” between them, just a heavy weight of shared secrets that neither was ready to unpack.

Jin Yi, who had been spacing out, snapped back to reality at the nudge. She found her parents looking at her expectantly. When she locked eyes with Jiang Qiong, the latter finally couldn’t hold back.

“Did you two have a fight?”

Jiang Qiong found it strange. They weren’t children anymore, and they were finally together. How could a morning spent playing in the snow turn into this cold war?

“No.” “No.”

They answered in perfect unison, which only made Jiang Qiong more suspicious. It was too fast, too rehearsed. There was definitely something wrong.

Zheng Yuan agreed. After exchanging a look with Jiang Qiong, she decided to play the mediator. After the wishes were made and the candles blown out, they began the meal. They used a split pot since Chu Weiran couldn’t handle too much spice.

Chu Weiran preferred the traditional Beijing style mutton with sesame dipping sauce while Jin Yi loved the spicy Sichuan style with a sesame oil dip. But tonight, neither had much of an appetite. Zheng Yuan kept ladling their favorite ingredients into their bowls.

“Ranran, you’re older than Xiao Yi. You should be a bit more patient with her.”

Chu Weiran glanced at the downward-tilted head of Jin Yi and hummed an affirmative. Hearing this, Zheng Yuan turned to Jin Yi. “Xiao Yi, Ranran has been spoiled by me; she has a bit of a temper sometimes. You don’t have to always give in to her. If she goes too far, tell me, and I’ll handle her for you.”

Jiang Qiong wanted to add something, but for once, she was at a loss for words. Usually, she favored Chu Weiran, but Jin Yi was her daughter. She knew their personalities: Jin Yi was mild-tempered and slow to react, while Chu Weiran was more dominant and assertive.

“Since you’ve decided to be together,” Jiang Qiong finally said, “you must learn to accommodate each other. It’s not about one person always backing down; it’s about mutual care.”

“Mom, I understand,” Jin Yi said, wanting to ease their worry. “We don’t have any major problems. We just had a small disagreement on something, that’s all.”

The parents didn’t push further, though they urged them to communicate more. The atmosphere eventually thawed as Jin Yi placed some mutton in Chu Weiran’s bowl and Chu Weiran returned the gesture with some tripe.

After dinner, they stayed the night at Jin Yi’s house. Usually, they would have been tangled up together by now, but tonight they were silent, one sitting at the head of the bed, the other at the foot.

Chu Weiran broke the silence. “Are we going to sleep?”

Jin Yi stayed silent for a moment. “…Yes.”

They didn’t sleep in each other’s arms that night. Jin Yi’s night was a blur of dreams, shards of her past life and her present one. The bedraggled, dying Chu Weiran and the vibrant, lively one. When she woke up, the first thing she saw was Chu Weiran’s face. Despite how they started the night, Chu Weiran had instinctively migrated into her arms during her sleep.

Looking at her, Jin Yi felt a wave of guilt. Even if she wasn’t directly responsible for Chu Weiran’s fate in the past life, she felt her negligence had played a part. She gently moved Chu Weiran’s hand and slipped out of bed. She took one last look at her sleeping face, sighed, and stepped out.

The moment the door clicked shut, Chu Weiran opened her eyes. She had felt Jin Yi’s heavy emotions all night. She had spent the evening counting Jin Yi’s sighs until she started sighing herself. She was exhausted from a night of nightmares, but she didn’t know how to bridge the gap if Jin Yi wasn’t ready to talk.

An hour later, Chu Weiran went downstairs. Jin Yi was gone.

“Where’s Xiao Yi?”

Zheng Yuan looked up from the TV in surprise. “She said she had something urgent at school and had to head back. Didn’t she tell you?”

Zheng Yuan was bewildered. Jin Yi had eaten a quick breakfast and bolted without even mentioning Chu Weiran. She had assumed they had worked things out. But seeing her daughter’s pale face and bitten lip, it was clear she had been left in the dark.

“What exactly happened between you two?” Zheng Yuan asked, walking over to her daughter.

“It’s nothing, Mom. Just a little moodiness. It’ll be fine soon.”

Zheng Yuan sighed. “You have to be considerate of one another if you want this to last.”

“I know.” Chu Weiran didn’t feel like eating. She needed to do something to distract herself. “I’m heading to the office.”

“On your birthday weekend?”

“I have some things to handle.”

Chu Weiran left the house. She was upset with Jin Yi’s sudden departure and “disappearing act.” If Jin Yi wanted to play the avoidance game, Chu Weiran would find work to do. But she didn’t want to go back to the capital; she wanted to stay close, even if they weren’t speaking.

She called her father. “Dad, I want to work. Is there anything at the local branch?”

“There are some interviews for the new project. You can go oversee those if you’d like.”

“Perfect.”

Meanwhile, Jin Yi arrived back at her dorm. It was empty. She threw herself onto her bed, frustrated by her own “sentimentality.”

Around 1:00 PM, Qu Yin returned. She jumped when she saw a lump under the covers on Jin Yi’s bed.

“What are you doing?” Qu Yin pulled the duvet back. Jin Yi looked disheveled and exhausted. “What happened to you? I thought I was the one who got dumped. You look like you’re the one in mourning.”

“Nothing. I’m just tired,” Jin Yi muttered, trying to pull the covers back over her head.

Qu Yin sat on the edge of the bed. She had never seen Jin Yi like this. After a few minutes of silence, she realized Jin Yi wasn’t going to talk, so she started eating the lunch she had brought back.

The smell of food finally got to Jin Yi. She sat up. “Can I have some? I’m hungry.”

She hadn’t eaten properly since the previous night. Her “sentimental” low had suppressed her hunger, but now that she was back in her familiar dorm, her stomach was protesting.

Qu Yin blinked in disbelief. “I only have half a crepe left and you want to steal it? I’m the one who’s heartbroken! I came back here to vent to you and you’re just stealing my food!”

Jin Yi blinked sheepishly but didn’t say a word.