She Got Revenge on Her Ex-Girlfriend Through a Kiss Scene - Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Kunming Airport at 2:00 AM felt like a vast, empty crystal palace. Only a few scattered travelers remained in the terminal; cleaners pushed machines that traced rhythmic circles on the floor, the hum of vacuums cutting sharply through the silence.

Xi Jisheng and Lou Ningyu sat side-by-side in a corner of the first-class lounge. Between them was an empty seat—a “safety distance” Xi had pointedly maintained. She leaned against the window, her eyes fixed on the blinking indicator lights of the tarmac like a frozen statue.

Lou Ningyu was replying to work emails. The light of her laptop screen flickered across her face. Her fingers tapped rapidly on the keyboard, occasionally stopping as she glanced at Xi Jisheng. The looks were brief, like a feather’s touch, but Xi felt every single one.

They were waiting for the final red-eye flight to Beijing. Takeoff at 3:00 AM; landing at 6:00 AM.

Twelve hours ago, Xi Jisheng was still on the set in the ancient Yunnan town, wearing a costume and performing “the flutter of first love” for the cameras. Now, her face was bare, her hair tied in a loose ponytail, her expression an undisguisable map of exhaustion and anxiety.

“It’s time to board.”

Lou Ningyu closed her laptop and stood up. Xi followed, her legs feeling weak—she hadn’t eaten or slept since receiving the doctor’s message.

The first-class cabin was nearly empty. The flight attendant recognized Lou Ningyu, her eyes widening in surprise, but her professional training took over as she politely asked for their drink orders.

“Warm water, thank you,” Lou said, then turned to Xi. “And you?”

Xi shook her head, fastened her seatbelt, and turned back to the window.

As the plane began to taxi and then lift off, a sense of weightlessness hit. Xi’s fingers subconsciously gripped the armrest. She was afraid of heights. Seven years ago, whenever they flew, Lou would hold her hand and whisper, “Don’t be afraid, I’m here.”

Now, Lou’s hand was on the armrest, just ten centimeters away. Xi could see the faint blue veins on the back of her hand and smell that familiar perfume. But she didn’t reach out.

Once the plane reached cruising altitude, Lou Ningyu stowed her tray table and spoke softly. “Your mother will be okay.”

Xi Jisheng remained focused on the window. The clouds in the darkness looked like tumbling cotton; flashes of lightning occasionally illuminated the silver-white expanse.

“You said that seven years ago, too,” she whispered, as if to herself.

Lou turned to her. “Seven years ago, I didn’t know. If I had known—”

“You didn’t know,” Xi interrupted, finally turning her head, her eyes reflecting seven years of accumulated weariness. “I didn’t tell you. Because I felt… I shouldn’t have.”

“Why shouldn’t you?” Lou’s voice dropped. “Xi Jisheng, have you ever considered that if you had told me, we could have found a way together? Instead of you carrying it alone and pushing me away in the most painful way possible?”

The question was sharp as a blade, piercing Xi’s deepest wound. Her lips moved, but she said nothing, turning back to the window.

Silence filled the cabin. When the water arrived, Lou placed it on Xi’s tray table. “Drink some water. Your lips are dry.”

Xi looked at the cup, steam rising from the rim. Finally, she took a small sip. The warmth was a gentle rebuke to her parched throat.

“Lou Ningyu,” she suddenly said, her eyes still on the cup. “Why… did you come with me?”

Lou set aside her tablet and turned toward her. “You just asked why. This is the answer—because I don’t want to regret it for another seven years.”

Xi’s fingers tightened on the cup.

“Seven years ago, letting you go alone was the biggest regret of my life,” Lou’s voice was calm, but every word carried weight. “Every day for seven years, I’ve wondered: if I had been more persistent, if I had chased you, if I had told you ‘I’ll carry it with you no matter what’… would the ending have been different?”

She paused, looking at Xi’s profile. “Now, the second chance is here. I won’t let you be alone again.”

Xi Jisheng closed her eyes. Tears threatened to fall, but she forced them back. She could feel Lou’s gaze, the resolve in her words, the warmth of being protected. But she also felt fear. Fear that she would ruin it again; fear that she wasn’t worthy of such love; fear that after seven years, they were no longer the people they once were.

…

5:30 AM: Beijing Oncology Hospital

The hospital was just beginning to wake. The hallway lights were a sickly white, and the smell of disinfectant was stifling. Xi Jisheng stood at the door of the ward, her hand on the handle, hesitating. She was terrified of seeing her mother’s haggard face, terrified of bad news.

“Jisheng,” Lou’s voice came from behind, soft but firm. “I’m here.”

Xi took a breath and pushed the door open. Inside, her mother was leaning against the bed, looking out the window. When she saw Xi, her eyes lit up; when she saw Lou Ningyu behind her, she froze.

“Ningyu?” her mother rasped, disbelief in her voice.

Lou stepped forward and naturally took the older woman’s hand. “Auntie, I’m here.”

The movement was so practiced, so instinctive. Watching this, Xi’s eyes burned. Seven years, and Lou still knew how to hold her mother’s hand. Her mother’s eyes reddened as she patted Lou’s hand. “Good girl… good girl.”

The doctor arrived thirty minutes later with the latest reports. “It’s more complicated than seven years ago,” he said, pointing to the shadows on the CT scan. “The tumor is in a difficult position. The success rate for surgery… is about 60%.”

Xi’s heart sank. Seven years ago, it was 85%.

“The cost?” Xi asked, her voice like sandpaper.

The doctor named a figure. It was enormous—even if Xi emptied her entire savings, she would still be short.

“Money isn’t an issue,” Lou Ningyu cut in, her tone as calm as if discussing the weather. “Use the best plan, hire the top experts. I will handle the costs.”

Xi whirled around. “No, I—”

“Jisheng,” Lou interrupted, her gaze tender but unyielding. “Now isn’t the time for this. Your mother’s health is the only thing that matters.” She turned to the doctor. “Please arrange the consultation and surgery as soon as possible. If you need resources, contact me immediately.”

…

Once the doctor left, Xi’s mother beckoned her over. “Child, come here.”

Xi sat on the edge of the bed. Her mother’s hand was thin, veins protruding, but her grip was tight. “Seven years ago,” her mother whispered, “it was you who pushed Ningyu away, wasn’t it?”

A tear fell onto her mother’s hand.

“Silly child,” her mother wiped the tears away. “You thought pushing her away was for her own good. But did you ever ask her what ‘good’ she actually wanted?” She looked at Lou, then back at Xi. “This time, don’t push. Life doesn’t have many seven-year spans to waste.”

She let go of Xi’s hand and reached for Lou’s, stacking their hands together. “Promise me you’ll be well. Together.”

Xi’s hand was ice-cold; Lou’s was warm. At the touch, Xi shivered but didn’t pull away.

“Auntie, don’t worry,” Lou said firmly. “This time, I’ll stay with Jisheng. We’ll carry it together.”

Xi looked at Lou. The ice in her heart finally showed its first crack. She nodded, her voice choked. “Okay.”

…

Over the next few hours, Xi witnessed exactly what Lou meant by “I have the power now.”

By 8:00 AM, Lou had made three calls. One to a friend at Union Hospital—within thirty minutes, the country’s top oncology team agreed to the consultation. Another to a lawyer to handle insurance and fees. A third to her assistant to reshuffle her entire schedule—endorsements, filming, media—to make space.

She was organized, precise, and authoritative. Watching her from the sofa, Xi felt a sense of vertigo. This wasn’t the twenty-three-old girl who cried about being late for rehearsals or worried about rent in their tiny apartment. This was the thirty-year-old Best Actress, a woman who could move mountains with a single phone call.

“Everything is arranged,” Lou said, walking over. “Eat something, then rest. I’ll be with you for the consultation this afternoon.”

“Thank you,” Xi said hoarsely. “The costs… I’ll pay you back later.”

Lou frowned. It was the look she gave when she was angry but couldn’t bring herself to snap. “Xi Jisheng, must you calculate everything so clearly with me?”

“Otherwise?” Xi looked down. “I can’t—”

“Then consider it a debt I owe you,” Lou interrupted. “Seven years. I owe you seven years of companionship. I owe you seven years of ‘us’.”

“You don’t owe me. I was the one—”

“I owe,” Lou insisted. “I owe you a chance to explain, a chance to say ‘we’ll carry it together.’ Now, let me pay it back.” Her gaze was so intense that Xi couldn’t argue.

“But…” Xi’s voice trembled. “I’m afraid I can’t repay it.”

“Who asked you to repay?” Lou smiled sadly. “Jisheng, love isn’t a transaction. I want to give, and you are willing to receive. It’s that simple.” She lowered her voice. “If it’s still a burden, then think of this as the embrace I didn’t get to give you seven years ago. It’s seven years late, but I’m giving it now.”

Xi Jisheng’s tears spilled over again. Lou didn’t wipe them away; she just watched her. Once the sobbing subsided, she handed Xi a cup of warm soy milk. “You skipped breakfast. Drink this.”

The cup warmed Xi’s frozen fingers. She took small sips, the faint sweetness acting as a gentle balm. Outside, Beijing was waking up—the pulse of the city returning. Inside, two women, one sitting and one standing, shared the same morning light.

It was like the countless mornings they had shared seven years ago, yet it was a reunion that had been a lifetime in the making.