Spring Night of Misty Rain - Chapter 25

Qin Zhiyue helped Shen Zeyu down from the treadmill and sat her down. On the other side, Xu Luosu rushed to them, looking at Shen Zeyu as she hunched over clutching her chest. Her expression was tense. “Senior Sister, are you okay?”

Shen Zeyu had almost no strength to respond. Her entire focus was on the agonizing pain in her chest. She loathed herself when she “relapsed”—not just for the uncontrollable emotions, but for the way her body betrayed her. It felt like her skin had been struck by lightning, leaving a shivering, stinging itch. Her head buzzed with a deafening roar, drowning out the world.

Xu Luosu’s voice became a muddled blur. Shen Zeyu felt as though a giant hole had been hollowed out of her chest, blood gushing out. It hurt so much… everywhere hurt.

But then, someone was calling her. “Senior Sister… Senior Sister…”

Through a hazy veil of tears, she saw a face. It was Xu Luosu.

In a daze, she was pulled into a soft, firm embrace. The warmth of skin-to-skin contact seemed to counteract some of the pain. As she buried herself in that suffocatingly close hug, a hand gently stroked her hair, and a steady voice whispered in her ear: “Don’t be afraid… you’re safe. Don’t be scared… Senior Sister, don’t be scared…”

The roar in her ears began to subside. The voice grew clearer. Safe. Stable. Powerful.

Yes… Xu Luosu is here. This place is safe.

Shen Zeyu reached out, clutching the fabric at Xu Luosu’s waist, trying to steady her racing heart.

“Breathe with me,” Xu Luosu whispered. “Inhale…” Shen Zeyu took a long breath. “Exhale…” She let it out. After repeating this several times, her heart rate finally leveled out, and her body stopped trembling.

Xu Luosu pulled back slightly, cupping Shen Zeyu’s face in her hands and looking into her eyes. “Better?”

Shen Zeyu nodded. “Mm.”

“Then let’s go back,” Xu Luosu said firmly. She took Shen Zeyu’s hand and led her away, passing Qin Zhiyue without a single word.

The Breaking Point

Back at the suite, Xu Luosu took a quick shower, intending to apologize to Shen Zeyu once the hotel breakfast arrived. But when Shen Zeyu didn’t emerge from her room for a long time, worry set in.

Xu Luosu knocked. No answer. She pushed the door open. The room was dark, curtains drawn tight. The only light came from the bathroom, where the sound of running water continued unabated.

“Senior Sister? Are you still in there?”

“Almost done…” Shen Zeyu’s voice was hoarse.

Xu Luosu waited on the sofa. Finally, the door opened. But when she looked up, her pupils contracted in shock.

Shen Zeyu hadn’t changed clothes. She was soaking wet, her dark hair dripping, leaning against the doorframe. She used her right hand to support her left arm. Her face was paper-white.

“Xu Luosu…” she whispered. Blood was dripping steadily from between her fingers, splashing onto the floor. “I… I cut too deep. It won’t stop.”

Xu Luosu’s eyes reddened instantly. She lunged toward her. “Don’t move! I’m taking you to the hospital right now!”

Scars and Salvation

At the emergency room, as the doctor pulled back the sleeve of Shen Zeyu’s left arm, Xu Luosu saw the crisscrossing, dense web of scars. Her heart ached with a sharp, physical sting.

The blood loss seemed to have drained away the emotional agony; Shen Zeyu was now eerily calm. She didn’t even cry out when the doctor stitched the wound.

On the drive back, Shen Zeyu leaned against the window, staring out blankly. She was still wearing her wet workout clothes.

Back in the room, because of her injured arm, Shen Zeyu couldn’t undress easily. Xu Luosu stepped in to help. As she helped pull the shirt over Shen Zeyu’s head, she saw the scars on her back.

Shen Zeyu was thin—skeletal, despite months of exercise. Along her spine were dozens of small, jagged scars.

Xu Luosu’s voice trembled. “These… are these from cutting, too?”

Shen Zeyu kept her head down, her long hair masking her expression. Her tone was flat. “Are you pitying me? You don’t have to. I’m not pitiful at all.”

“Pitying someone is an act of arrogance,” Xu Luosu replied softly, moving closer until she was almost pressed against Shen Zeyu’s back. “I am proud, but I am not arrogant. Can you please stop doing this? Doesn’t it hurt?”

The warm breath on her skin made Shen Zeyu shiver. “Aren’t you afraid?” she asked after a long silence.

“Afraid of what?”

“That I’ll cling to you,” Shen Zeyu whispered, her eyes clouding with mist. “That’s what the others were afraid of… they were scared I would ‘die because of them,’ so they just dropped me on the ground. To them, I’m a tumor. A cancer in a relationship.”

Xu Luosu wrapped her arms around her from behind. “There’s nothing to be afraid of. You’ve been controlling it so well. We didn’t realize how much that ‘trigger’ would affect you. We just won’t see her again.”

Shen Zeyu’s tears began to fall. “But… things like this might happen again…”

“I believe you don’t want them to happen,” Xu Luosu said firmly. “Before you met her again, you were working so hard to reclaim your life. Come, let me dry you off.”

Xu Luosu gently dried her and put a loose black shirt on her. When Shen Zeyu turned around, she saw Xu Luosu looking at her with a mix of helplessness and affection.

“Sometimes,” Xu Luosu sighed, pinching Shen Zeyu’s cheek, “I feel like you’re a Persian cat that fell into a puddle during a storm. If I pick you up, you’re hard to raise. If I don’t, I can’t live with myself.”

“I’m not a stray! I have a home!” Shen Zeyu snapped, swatting her hand away.

“Yes, yes, you have a home,” Xu Luosu laughed, pulling her into a fierce hug and ruffling her hair. “So disobedient! You’re infuriating!”

“Let go! This is insubordination! You’re terrible!”

Xu Luosu ignored the protests and held her even tighter. The sheer force of the embrace seemed to fill Shen Zeyu’s parched soul. She went still, breathing in Xu Luosu’s scent, her hands hovering at the girl’s waist—wanting to hug back, but not quite daring to.

“Senior Sister,” Xu Luosu’s voice was low, “we’re friends, right?”

“Mm.”

“Then as a friend, why don’t you rely on me? Why won’t you try pouring your emotions out to me? Am I that unreliable? Am I not enough to support you?”

Shen Zeyu was silent for a long time. “It’s not you. It’s me. I… I’m not good at relying on others.”

Xu Luosu didn’t argue. Instead, she balled her hand into a fist and began to thump Shen Zeyu’s back. Not hard enough to cause injury, but hard enough to be felt.

“Ow! Junior Sister… stop! That actually hurts a bit… Junior Sister! Junior Sister!”

Xu Luosu didn’t stop. She pressed Shen Zeyu’s head against her chest with one hand, while the other continued its silent, rhythmic thumping.

To her, this “child” who only knew how to hurt herself needed to be taught a lesson at home. She needed to be given some claws before being sent back into the world, so that next time someone bullied her, she would scratch them instead of herself.