Chapter 57 Part 2

Back at the villa, she’d told Qian Shan that she trusted Yun Chun to make her win. In truth, if she’d only asked Yun Chun to table the discussion for five days, Yun Chun surely would have agreed.

But Lu Qingxue couldn’t bring herself to say it.

She trusted Yun Chun, but not herself.

She was starting to doubt whether pestering Yun Chun from the beginning had been the right thing to do.

Because her own desire to be with Yun Chun had forced this impossible choice on her.

She was the one who had led Yun Chun down this dead-end path.

Fortunately, there was still a chance to turn back.

Lu Qingxue stared into Yun Chun’s eyes, which were red and swollen.

She didn’t dare call her a crybaby anymore. Anyone else would have collapsed under such pressure long ago. Yet Yun Chun still pretended everything was fine each day, chatting and laughing with her, working diligently. If Yun Chun hadn’t confessed, Lu Qingxue never would have known the weight her heart was carrying.

In self-reproach, Lu Qingxue wondered why she always made Yun Chun cry.

Clearly, she couldn’t make Yun Chun happy.

It was better to part ways.

Her thumb gently wiped under Yun Chun’s eyes, and Lu Qingxue said softly, “I’m sorry. I didn’t consider how much Aunt Qin means to you.”

Realizing it might be the end, she couldn’t keep certain words bottled up. In her usual tone, Lu Qingxue voiced the bitterness in her heart. “But Little Darling, you have to trust me. I would never do anything to hurt Aunt Qin.”

“I…” Yun Chun bit her lip. “I want to say I trust you, but I did hide this from you before. My words don’t carry much weight. It was my fault.”

Hearing Yun Chun’s apology, Lu Qingxue turned the tables to comfort her. “You did nothing wrong. If it were me, I wouldn’t tell just anyone either.”

Anyone.

That was the word Lu Qingxue had used.

Yun Chun’s heart clenched violently, as if punched by a heavyweight boxer, leaving her in momentary shock.

But before she could react, a cool touch landed on her forehead.

Soft and gentle, it melted away the ache in her chest.

The sun had risen unnoticed, casting serene light into the quiet room where dust motes danced in the air.

A beam fell directly on Yun Chun’s face, glowing with warm golden hues.

Lu Qingxue parted her bangs with her fingertips and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

It was like kissing the sun itself.

The sun hadn’t ignored her—it had simply been veiled by clouds, unable to share its light.

Now, all was well.

The sun had emerged once more.

And why resent the sun anyway? It was she who had fallen first.

She had dared to wish that someone who never belonged to her would belong only to her.

No matter how hard you force a melon from the vine, it will never be sweet.

The light kiss ended, and Lu Qingxue smiled at Yun Chun. “Let me kiss you once more.”

Yun Chun didn’t notice anything amiss in the words. She pulled back from Lu Qingxue, her cheeks flushing with heat. “Is once really enough?”

“It’s enough.”

“…”

Yun Chun pursed her lips and gripped Lu Qingxue’s clothes tightly. “Sister Qingxue, you’re not just anyone to me. I just—” She felt the need to explain.

Lu Qingxue cut her off with a smile. “I know.”

She pinched Yun Chun’s cheek gently and said softly, “I know everything, Little Darling. It was my poor choice of words. Don’t torment yourself over it.”

She could see that Yun Chun wasn’t as carefree as she appeared. Her thoughts were delicate and intricate; she tended to shoulder every burden herself.

Yun Chun’s pursed lips relaxed slightly.

Lu Qingxue helped her to her feet, brushing the dirt from her knees with care, her brow furrowing in heartache.

Once upright, she noticed Yun Chun’s tear-reddened eyes again, and the pain in her own heart intensified. Yun Chun made her feel alive, flesh and blood, a person with real emotions.

While she made Yun Chun pale and lifeless, like a walking corpse.

Lu Qingxue’s own eyes grew misty.

But she didn’t cry.

She cradled Yun Chun’s face, their gazes locking.

In Yun Chun’s eyes, Lu Qingxue saw her own reflection and suddenly said, “Little Darling, what you really need is just someone to keep you company.”

“What?” Yun Chun blinked in confusion.

“You say you like me—is it because I’ve been with you the longest, and you’ve mistaken that companionship for love?”

“Of course not.”

Yun Chun denied it without hesitation, shocked that Lu Qingxue could be so wrong.

She insisted, “I might have developed feelings because of your companionship and our time together, but I haven’t mistaken them. It’s like.”

“Then that confession the other day—was it out of guilt for all I’ve done for you, or—”

“It’s like!” Yun Chun interrupted. “I like you!”

What did she mean by guilt?

If that were all, she could just repay what she owed and be done with it.

She might not be able to settle the debt all at once, but she had her whole life ahead.

It wasn’t guilt.

With the answer to her deepest concern confirmed, Lu Qingxue smiled warmly. “Yes, it’s like.”

At least it wasn’t love yet.

Like could be severed; love was harder to cut away.

Lu Qingxue fluttered her lashes and leaned down, brushing a kiss against the corner of Yun Chun’s mouth.

She’d said once was enough, but how could it ever be? No number of kisses would suffice.

This one lingered longer, not fleeting and light. Like sketching the lines of a dress design, her lips traced the soft contours of Yun Chun’s mouth.

She savored the warmth there, feeling Yun Chun’s lashes brush her cheek.

Time seemed to halt in that kiss.

No barriers of human and ghost, no societal norms.

Nothing else existed.

Just Lu Qingxue and Yun Chun.

The kiss was feather-light, but the affection ran deep.

Like an unbreakable sky, a bird’s silhouette against sunset, a lake embracing all before drying to reveal its depths.

Exposing the sunken ship at the bottom.

The memory was indelible; the ship, soaked and overgrown with algae, could never be restored.

It would find no harbor again.

As their lips parted from Yun Chun’s corner, Lu Qingxue’s fingertips lingered on the tender softness of her face, her eyes shimmering with gentle light. “Little Darling…”

I love you.

“Tch.”

Qian Shan’s voice cut in. “I watched the whole drama, but why am I not entertained? Next time, put on a comedy. I hate tearjerkers.”

She spoke via transmission, inaudible to Yun Chun—only Lu Qingxue could hear.

Seeing Lu Qingxue ignore her, Qian Shan sneered coldly. “Everyone says you two are fated but not meant to be. She’s living fine without you, so of course she won’t end up with a dead person like you. Hurry up, burn that marriage certificate and come with me.”

Still dazed by Lu Qingxue’s soft murmur, Yun Chun watched as Lu Qingxue lowered her hands and walked to the cabinet holding the portrait.

She opened the drawer and took out the marriage certificate.

Her downcast eyes lingered deeply on the names—hers and Yun Chun’s—and a smile tugged at her lips.

Like didn’t require being together, but it was worth celebrating that they had shared a life.

That counted as being together.

Parting was hard. She had a thousand words for Yun Chun:

“Little Darling, I’m sorry I can’t stay with you anymore.”

“Little Darling, you’re wonderful. I really want to be with you.”

“Little Darling, remember to breathe when you kiss.”

“Little Darling, I lied—I kiss you because I want to, not for energy. You’re not mad, right?”

“Little Darling, I broke the lightbulb. I was too embarrassed to tell you. Don’t blame the voltage.”

“Little Darling, those pancakes you made, the taste…”

“Little Darling, live well.”

“Little Darling, don’t forget breakfast.”

“Little Darling, if you don’t like coffee, sell that coffee machine. Did you know you always drank it with a wrinkled brow? Good thing you’re a model—if you were an actress, your acting skills wouldn’t fool anyone.”

“Little Darling, you say you didn’t coax me, but every word made me happy. I love that feeling.”

“Little Darling, I’m glad you became my brand ambassador. My dying wish is fulfilled.”

“Little Darling, I want to say don’t forget me, but… forget me instead.”

“Little Darling…”

But of all those words, Lu Qingxue uttered only one sentence in the end.

She turned to Yun Chun, standing bathed in light.

“Little Darling, drive carefully from now on. Look both ways before crossing the street.”

The sudden parting advice sent Yun Chun’s heart plummeting over a cliff.

Weightlessness overwhelmed her.

“Sister Qingxue!”

Yun Chun blurted out, “Don’t burn it!!!”

She didn’t know why she said it—instinct warned that burning the marriage certificate would sever the last tie between her and Lu Qingxue.

But it was too late.

An azure flame erupted in Lu Qingxue’s palm, ghostly and alluring, just like the blue aura Yun Chun often glimpsed on her.

Blue flames ignited, and the paper floating in midair was instantly set ablaze.

But the moment the fire touched the paper, a flicker of surprise appeared in Lu Qingxue’s eyes before vanishing in an instant.

The flames devoured the paper like a wild beast pouncing on its prey.

By the time Yun Chun rushed in front of Lu Qingxue and reached out, all she caught were ashes.

Even those ashes dissolved in her hands; she couldn’t hold on to them.

Just like Lu Qingxue, who was growing more and more transparent right before her eyes. Yun Chun reached for Lu Qingxue’s arm but grasped at empty air. What her fingers touched was no longer that warm body, so lifelike aside from its lack of true vitality. Her hand passed straight through Lu Qingxue’s form, clutching nothing but the air.

Yun Chun looked up at her and called out softly, “Sister Lu…”

Lu Qingxue lowered her gaze with a smile and reached out to ruffle Yun Chun’s hair. “Silly girl, why try to catch it when it’s already burned away?”

Lu Qingxue could still touch her, but the arm making contact was slowly turning transparent as well.

Tears welled up in Yun Chun’s eyes, though she didn’t know why she was crying.

She just needed to go find Xu Lanmeng, and she could see Lu Qingxue again.

But why…

Why did her heart ache so terribly?

It felt as if she would never see Lu Qingxue again.

Lu Qingxue was just like that burned paper—something Yun Chun couldn’t hold on to, couldn’t bring back.

That helpless sensation of grasping at nothing intensified as Lu Qingxue’s figure faded away.

Just as Lu Qingxue was on the verge of vanishing completely, the tears finally overflowed from Yun Chun’s eyes. Pearl-sized droplets plummeted to the floor with a sharp patter.

The crystalline gleam of those tears seemed to make even the tiles weep for their sorrow.

Yun Chun wiped at her eyes, watching Lu Qingxue disappear bit by bit. Her throat burned as if scorched by fire, the raw pain tearing at her voice. She choked for a long moment before managing to speak in broken sobs. “Sister Qingxue, wait for me at home.”

Her voice hoarse, Yun Chun continued, “Wait for me to come back.”

She saw Lu Qingxue’s lips move, but no sound reached her ears. If Yun Chun had known how to read lips, she would have understood that Lu Qingxue was saying: “I’m sorry, Little Darling. I can’t wait for you anymore.”

From now on, late nights home would mean unlocking the door and flipping on the lights all by yourself.

She would no longer be able to greet you with “Welcome back,” or fret over what might have delayed you by those few minutes…

Little Darling, if fate allows, I hope we meet again in our next lives.

Even if there’s no deeper bond, just seeing you would be enough.

I only wish I could live a little longer next time.

Little Darling, forgive me for the burden my feelings placed on you.

In the days without me, be happy.

Be truly happy.