Chapter 53: The Submissive, Obsessive Top Student

However, everything had to end now.

The person on the rooftop pressed a hand to her chest. The wind and snow grew fiercer, turning the world into a vast expanse of white. Shi Qingyi had left.

She had let go, but even when she truly did so, it still felt unbearable. What kind of existence was Shi Qingyi to her?

She was the only obsession in her life in this world. With her parents gone early and living under someone else’s roof, her dark and lightless life had only that faint glimmer. Her grandfather treated her well, handing over the entire family and company to her, but he hadn’t raised her from childhood after all. To her, it was more a sense of responsibility and guilt toward her daughter.

Her heart was cold. For all these years, the thought that kept her alive was Shi Qingyi. In her most painful moments, she thought of claiming her for herself to survive—and now—

Her hands were frozen stiff. She slowly pushed the wheelchair toward the edge of the rooftop. Qingyi would go far away and have a bright, brilliant future. She should die in this snowstorm, not cast any shadow over her life ahead.

The wind howled, and the snow fell so heavily that the wheelchair made a slightly grating sound in the slush. At the edge of the rooftop, she slowly closed her eyes.

She remembered that girl from high school, the one who laughed so freely, drawing attention from boys and girls wherever she went—receiving roses in the hallways, being asked for her contact info on the sports field—

Perhaps because of her illness, her disability, and her disfigurement, in those three years, she had developed endless inferiority and viciousness. It seemed like everyone looked down on her, despised her—

Later, she became almost deranged with the thought: if that was the case, then she would ruin Shi Qingyi along with herself.

—Ruin her, then imprison her forever by her side, so that no one else appeared in her eyes. She truly hated the sight of others in her gaze, wanted her to become completely her own possession.

What a terrifying idea. She not only wanted to destroy herself but also utterly destroy Shi Qingyi, so she should let go—even if that bond had fused into her bones over the long years, inseparable.

The wheelchair finally reached the end of the rooftop. She reached out to steady it. It was very high; in the heavy snow, everything below was a white blur, impossible to see. She recalled the school rooftop from three or four years ago, in the midsummer downpour, what she had thought while standing there.

Back then, as a young girl, she had thought Shi Qingyi would come save her—

Now, she turned her head, clinging to that faint possibility. Behind her were crowds of people, densely packed, but the one she dreamed of day and night was nowhere among them.

Qingyi had already left. Why would she come back?

—She didn’t want her anymore.

She knew this fact all too clearly.

—

The moment the elevator doors opened, Shi Qingyi rushed out. Jiang Zhiyi was at the edge of the rooftop, one hand on the railing, as if she might tumble over the next instant.

In that moment, Shi Qingyi felt her breath catch. The cold wind made her shiver uncontrollably. She stumbled forward, trembling as she shouted the name: “Jiang Zhiyi—”

That cry used up all her strength, hoarse and raw, unlike any normal person’s voice. The crowd parted silently before her, staring in shock and bewilderment at the red-eyed woman charging forward.

Jiang Zhiyi’s hand on the wheelchair trembled faintly. She thought perhaps she was hallucinating again.

Ever since the car accident three years ago, she had often heard hallucinations—Shi Qingyi calling her name. At first, it made her happy, but after searching everywhere and finding no one, it only brought more sorrow. Later, when Shi Qingyi was by her side, it got better, but now she had left—

No matter how much medicine she took, the hallucinations persisted, imagining Shi Qingyi willingly staying with her, accompanying her.

But this time, it felt unusually real. She missed Shi Qingyi so much she was going mad. Even knowing it might be an illusion, she couldn’t help turning back in panic, afraid that turning too slowly would upset her.

Behind her was the vast snow. A woman with disheveled black hair cascading over her shoulders stood there, her fine brows and eyes tinged red, reaching out to her.

“Come back with me—Zhiyi, come back with me, okay?” Shi Qingyi forced her voice to soften. She could sense Jiang Zhiyi’s unstable state.

She was terribly thin, still wearing a thin long skirt in the depths of winter, clinging tightly to her bony frame, her eyes hazy. She hadn’t even looked at what lay ahead.

—It was an abyss of no return.

She had always been timid, afraid of the dark, heights, and cold.

The person by the abyss stared at her for a long, long time, then finally shook her head with difficulty: “No…”

Tears rolled down her gaunt cheeks in strings: “Qingyi left… She wanted to leave… She doesn’t want me anymore…”

Dream and reality blurred, tearing at her relentlessly.

It had to be a hallucination. Why would Qingyi, who had finally gained her freedom, come back? She had always wanted to leave.

She had wanted to, so that day she tricked her into going out, to the airport and not returning. When she asked her that night, she stayed silent. She wanted to leave so badly, and she had let her go—how could she possibly come back?

“Who said I wanted to leave?” Shi Qingyi’s voice was terribly hoarse. She approached step by step, ignoring the bystanders’ attempts to stop her, slowly drawing near. “President Jiang is so capable—how come you only investigated my trip to the airport, but not what I planned to do next?”

“I’ll tell you now—you didn’t find out that three years ago, I had a wedding ring custom-made at a shop?”

Tears gathered in her eyes, making her voice wet and raspy.

Jiang Zhiyi blinked slowly, thinking perhaps her hallucinations were worsening, but for some reason, a sliver of extravagant hope surged in her heart. Her whole body trembled faintly, her ice-cold hand pressing on her amputated leg: “I’m disabled…”

“And my hand can’t draw anymore.” Shi Qingyi drew closer.

Jiang Zhiyi’s heart twisted in sudden pain. How much it must have hurt Qingyi back then—why hadn’t she gone to her, why hadn’t she stayed by her side? Why hadn’t she dared uncover the truth, instead—

In that moment of hesitation, Shi Qingyi closed the remaining distance. Suddenly, as if startled by something, she recoiled backward, hot liquid trailing down her cheek and jaw.

“Qingyi, don’t come closer… I’m not good enough, I need my medicine, I treated you that way…” She trembled violently, desperately trying to push the wheelchair back. “I’m sick—”

She had finally resolved to let go. If Qingyi turned back now, she would never be able to let go for the rest of her life.

—She simply couldn’t do it.

She was truly afraid. How could she harbor such thoughts? Qingyi had lost her dreams for her sake, endured three agonizing years, but what about her? She wanted to ruin the girl she loved, lock her away forever. She wanted to destroy her—

The out-of-control person kept shrinking back, pushing the wheelchair away, when tears finally fell from Shi Qingyi’s eyes. Her voice suddenly softened; she stopped advancing and said, “Zhiyi, if you’re gone, I’ll come join you, okay?”

The cold wind shattered her words, reaching Jiang Zhiyi’s ears as a gentle murmur. She froze instantly—and in that moment, Shi Qingyi rushed forward and hugged her tightly. At the rooftop’s edge, one more step back meant shattering to pieces below. She held her dead fast.

She leaned close to her ear, voice hoarse and gentle, with a hint of sobs: “You think I didn’t know?”

How could she not know? She was her bedside companion.

She knew Jiang Zhiyi’s anxieties, fears, and suspicions all too clearly.

“I went to pick up the ring, you know. How could you write me off like that? I haven’t even gotten my ring yet, and you’re already done with me, leaving first?”

The wind was bitterly cold; one misstep forward meant eternal doom.

Shi Qingyi trembled as she held her tight. The November gale cut like knife blades. Jiang Zhiyi had been on the rooftop too long, feeling like a block of solid ice in her arms, but even so, Shi Qingyi had no intention of letting go.

She held so tightly that Jiang Zhiyi could barely breathe, but her frozen-stiff hands desperately clung to Shi Qingyi’s shoulders, as if burying herself into her flesh.

At first, it was quiet, soundless sobs. Moments later, they turned to rapid gasps, her arms wrapping around Shi Qingyi’s back with a shudder, like a trapped beast’s final wail: “Qingyi—”

She was a ridiculous monkey, but later, her moon willingly fell into her arms.

The moon in hand was no mere illusory reflection.

Later, Shi Qingyi personally carried Jiang Zhiyi down. The wheelchair was stuck at the edge; one more step and it would have fallen. She simply picked her up.

Many prominent figures and relatives were present, all staring in stunned amazement at the two women. Shi Qingyi remained composed, while Jiang Zhiyi clung to her neck, sobbing softly.

“Qingyi, put me down… Your hand isn’t fully healed yet.”

Shi Qingyi’s hand had healed enough for discharge after some time, but the wound wasn’t completely better. Jiang Zhiyi was so thin she hardly weighed like an adult woman, yet she still feared tiring her.

Shi Qingyi refused to let go, only softly telling her not to move. Jiang Zhiyi obediently stilled, holding her even tighter.

They clung so fiercely, as if separation for even a moment meant they couldn’t survive. Even the faint seep of blood from the bandage on Shi Qingyi’s wrist went unnoticed.

That night, they returned to their little villa, huddling together like frightened beasts, inseparable. Jiang Zhiyi’s mental state remained poor; she refused to let the doctor in, only willing to see Shi Qingyi. Sometimes she cried apologies, sometimes she trembled as she sought kisses.

“Qingyi, I was wrong. I won’t lock you up anymore. You can go anywhere… just don’t leave me, okay?”

“I’ll be good, take my medicine on time, listen to you, cooperate with treatment. I’ll change…”

“Qingyi, don’t leave me…” She trembled as she kissed Shi Qingyi’s wrist, asking if it hurt, making endless vows and promises, her fear heartbreaking.

Shi Qingyi tenderly kissed her swollen eyelids, gently kissing away the warm tears, patting her back to soothe the anxious one.

The System in her mind let out a long breath, wiping nonexistent sweat from its brow: “Crisis averted! Gu Chuanjing survived—”