Otherwise, if the money vanished with her, it would be too tragic. Su Ye would probably curse her through her tears.
After buying the umbrella, the gods above saw fit to send down a drizzle. The fine mist wasn’t enough to soak them, but it was persistent enough to be annoying.
They hid under the large oil-paper umbrella, continuing their aimless wandering.
Su Ye said curiously, “People here don’t seem to care about the rain. If this were back home, everyone would have packed up their stalls and gone inside.”
Yue Chengqi hummed in agreement. Soon, they noticed the crowd shifting in a single direction.
Yue Chengqi stopped someone to ask what was happening. The person replied, “Because the Great Bore is coming tonight! If you go now, you can still snag a good spot!” With that, the person hurried off.
The two shared a look.
“Do you want to see it?” Su Ye asked.
“A little bit.”
“Then let’s head over slowly. We won’t get a front-row seat, but we can grab something to eat.”
Yue Chengqi’s eyes crinkled. “I’d love that.”
They found a small roadside eatery. Su Ye, refusing to believe the rumors, declared, “I have to try the West Lake Vinegar Fish!” The hotel receptionist had specifically recommended against it, but Su Ye was stubborn.
Regrettably, the restaurant was too small and didn’t even have the dish on the menu. They settled for ordinary fare.
After eating, they turned down an alley and found a pastry shop. Su Ye bought a box of mung bean cakes and osmanthus cakes, shoved the umbrella into Yue Chengqi’s hands, and ate as she walked.
“Save some for me,” Yue Chengqi complained.
Su Ye’s eyes twinkled with mischief. “Go buy your own then!” This was her revenge for Yue Chengqi canceling her bank accounts without consulting her. Yue Chengqi huffed in annoyance.
They stood at the back of the crowd, standing on their tiptoes to see the view. When the massive wave crashed, they could only see the crest, but the cheers of the crowd were vivid. Even a small child beside them was trying to peer through the gaps between adults, letting out gasps of wonder.
Yue Chengqi leaned down. “Little one, where’s your mom?”
“Mom is holding my sister to see the wave.” The child was too focused on the water to look at her.
A gentle tap on Yue Chengqi’s shoulder made her look up. She met the apologetic gaze of a woman who had a smaller girl sitting on her shoulders. She truly had no hands free to lift the other child.
Yue Chengqi whispered, “I can help.”
The woman was immensely grateful. “Thank you so much! Their father is setting up a surprise elsewhere, and I’m stuck trying to manage both. I felt so bad having to neglect one.”
Yue Chengqi smiled softly. She crouched down to talk to the child, suggesting she sit on her shoulders to see the wave. “Your mom said it’s okay. Do you want to ride on Auntie’s shoulders?”
The little girl nodded excitedly.
Yue Chengqi grabbed her to lift—but couldn’t move her.
She frowned. Meeting the girl’s confused gaze, she tried again to bend and lift, but her wasting muscles told her: Forget it. You aren’t capable of this kindness today.
Doubt flickered in the little girl’s eyes. She wondered if she was too fat, or if this auntie just didn’t like her as much as her mom liked her sister.
Su Ye stepped in to save the day, gently negotiating with the girl. “This auntie is feeling a bit weak today. Let me lift you, okay?”
She hoisted the little girl high over her head and settled her securely on her shoulders. The tide hadn’t even arrived yet, but the girl let out a satisfied laugh and whispered two “thank-yous.”
Thank you, Tall Auntie. Thank you, Short Auntie.
The “Short Auntie” reflected that this was the first time someone had called her short, though compared to the tall Yue Huan, she was indeed about half a head shorter.
The girl clapped above them. Su Ye and Yue Chengqi shared a look and a knowing smile.
Back at the hotel that night, Su Ye began her interrogation.
“Is it your arms starting to waste away, or what?”
“I think… my stamina is just vanishing.” Yue Chengqi frowned, letting out a soft sigh. “I don’t think I can hold on much longer.”
Su Ye glared at her. “Nonsense! It’s just a loss of strength. Do you even know what it looks like when you disappear?”
“Do you?”
Su Ye nodded. Yue Chengqi was stunned. “How could you possibly know?”
“That time you had a fever when you first arrived,” Su Ye admitted guiltily. “That morning, your arm vanished for a moment.”
“…I must have scared you.”
There was no reprimand, only soft concern. It made sense; there was no point in arguing now. Their time was too precious, barely enough for loving each other, let alone fighting.
Su Ye was stunned for a moment, then smiled in a way that made Yue Chengqi’s skin crawl.
What is she thinking? She’s not planning to take revenge for that scare tonight, is she?
But Su Ye simply dove into her arms and whispered, “We have so many things left to do, Ah Huan. Your future self isn’t allowed to secretly go see the flag-raising ceremony without me.”
“I’ll wait for you. When you come back, we’ll go see the flag-raising together.”
Touched and helpless, Yue Chengqi stroked her hair. “Okay. We’ll see the flag-raising together.”
Truth be told, despite being in Ye City for five years, she had never actually seen it. Every time her classmates invited her, she reflexively declined—she really hated waking up early. But the promise Su Ye asked for was heavy; she wasn’t sure she could keep it.
The trip ended, and they returned to An City after National Day.
Throughout October, Yue Chengqi’s health deteriorated daily. They tried seeing doctors again, but neither Western nor Traditional Chinese Medicine could find the source. An old TCM doctor stroked his chin, musing hesitantly, “If I had to say… it’s as if you are retrograding.”
It wasn’t a weakening, but a regression of the organs and meridians. It was as if she were becoming a child again. An adult’s daily needs could not be sustained by an infant’s internal systems, making her increasingly fragile.
“This is the first time I’ve seen such a condition. Young lady, would you mind if I called my students to observe?”
Yue Chengqi, her face pale, declined.
“It’s not a lack of spirit, Doctor. It’s just that my case has no clinical value.”
“So you know what’s wrong with you?”
Yue Chengqi lowered her gaze and accepted the question in silence. Yes, she knew. The day of the final goodbye was drawing closer.
November. Freezing cold.
On Yue Chengqi’s twenty-fifth birthday, a heavy snow fell over An City, accumulating three inches deep on their new balcony.
Su Ye came home with a small cake. She opened the door to find the woman huddled in a hanging chair on the balcony, reading. She looked the picture of frailty, pale and utterly exhausted.
But they still celebrated the birthday. Because they needed to make a wish.
Yue Chengqi clasped her hands together and made a solemn wish in her heart: ‘Heavens, please set her free.’
Let the future Su Ye be free. Do not let her be trapped in an endless fate and an eternal wait with no chance of escape. Watching “her” grow up… what a cruel fate that was.
She didn’t know that Su Ye was also making a secret wish. Su Ye said:
‘When the sun sets on one side, it will rise on the other.’
‘If Ah Huan disappears in the past, she will surely appear in the future.’
‘Time rotates without end. Fate, please do not let me go, and do not let her go.’
‘I am willing to follow time, rotating forever, entangled until death.’
Su Ye guessed what Yue Huan’s wish would be, but since Yue Huan only appeared after she had made her original wish years ago, it meant her wish-making power was stronger. So, ‘Heavens, do not let us go.’
The woman who had crawled her way out of an orphanage to her current position was beginning to reveal the obsession she kept buried deep in her heart.
After cake and dinner, Yue Chengqi made her final arrangements.
She leaned back in the hanging chair, pointing at several notebooks on the table. “I didn’t have the strength to go out these last two months, so I wrote down all the important future events I know, all the way to 2023. I don’t know what will happen after I leave, or if this book will even exist. If it stays, you must remember to read these.”
Yue Chengqi thought, I haven’t even written that handwritten book yet—does that count as changing the future? Only this time, she didn’t want to change someone’s destiny; she just didn’t want them to meet again. She didn’t want Su Ye to suffer.
Butterfly, please flap your wings. Kick up a storm from this small point and change that tragic future. Let Su Ye be free. I beg you.
Su Ye climbed into the hanging chair. It was large enough for two, though they were a bit squeezed. It didn’t matter. Su Ye curled up, nestling into Yue Chengqi’s embrace.
Outside, the snow fell silently. Inside, only a small lamp was lit. It was so quiet they could only hear each other’s breathing.
Suddenly, Yue Chengqi’s voice came, weak and small. “Ah Ye.”
“Hmm?”
“I originally wanted… to go for a walk.” That way, she wouldn’t have to die right in front of her.
Su Ye wouldn’t let her finish. she leaned in, holding her tight. Suddenly, the lap Su Ye was sitting on went empty.
The girl looked up in disbelief, meeting a gaze filled with profound apology.
In moments of extreme shock, one forgets how to speak. Su Ye felt as if a giant boulder was crushing her throat. She opened her mouth, but no sound came out. Her hands went numb, leaving only enough strength to clutch Yue Huan’s collar.
She trembled, managing to squeeze a few words through the tears. “Don’t go…”
But the woman’s legs were already becoming illusory, her body growing weightless. Su Ye’s arms were now enough to support her entire weight. Yue Chengqi pulled back slightly, looking at Su Ye with eyes full of pained love. Her fingers brushed Su Ye’s face repeatedly, trying to wipe away the tears. It was useless.
Neither could stop this separation, so neither could stop weeping.
Yue Chengqi opened her mouth, leaning down to press a soft, slow kiss onto those red lips—she could barely feel them anymore. The dissolution had reached her arms; soon, she would vanish entirely. At that moment, a new life would let out its first cry, greeting the world.
This was the end of the end.
She kissed away the tears at the corner of the girl’s mouth and pressed their foreheads together. In a low, raspy voice, she said, “I… I really wanted to tell you my real name.”
“But it’s okay. You’ll know soon. You will.”
She could no longer hug Su Ye. Looking into the girl’s bloodshot eyes, she could only lean in and kiss her again, trying to stem the tears, but to no avail. Yue Chengqi smiled helplessly. “Ah Ye, you being like this… makes me so worried…”
“If you’re worried, then don’t leave!” Su Ye screamed through her sobs. “Don’t leave! Stay here! Look, I haven’t even built the business up yet, it’s nothing compared to the Everguest you talked about… Yue Huan!”
Yue Chengqi stroked her head and said, “Su Ye, your stomach is weak. You have to remember to eat well. Rest often. Don’t push your body too hard. You have to…”
The cruelty of the heavens showed itself at that moment. It suddenly snatched away Yue Chengqi’s eyes. She froze, her words cutting off mid-sentence. The dissipation continued. Only a portion of her torso remained, then only a sliver…
Yue Chengqi realized it too. She suddenly spoke rapidly. “Su Ye, you have to find someone who loves you just as much. There will be many people more beautiful than me around you. You must forget—”
…I love you.
Those three words were snuffed out in the air. By the time Su Ye reacted, there was nothing left but ethereal points of light. She was stunned.
Outside, the blizzard raged. This snow would eventually collapse a large tree, though fortunately, it wouldn’t topple the hundred-year-old tree in the grand plaza.
Inside, the points of light hovered for a heartbeat before drifting down like snowflakes. They had no weight, no substance; they vanished before they even touched a surface. But it still looked like a snowfall.
A snow that had completely buried a person.
Minutes passed, or perhaps hours, before Su Ye finally moved. She wept in silence, her tears flowing steadily. She was so quiet she seemed like a different person.
Weeks later—
Su Ye’s phone vibrated. Lost in a daze, she looked at it slowly. It was a message from Yue Wenfeng.
[The baby is born. She’s healthy. Do you and Xiao Huan want to come see her?]
[I fought for the child’s surname, so she’s taking mine. Xiao Huan should be happy she has another kinsman.]
[I’m planning to name her… Yue Chengqi.]
Su Ye thought, So the name Yue Huan struggled so hard to say… was Yue Chengqi.
She stood up and called Qi Sheng over to mind the shop before replying to Yue Wenfeng.
[I’m coming. After all, I am her one and only Auntie.]
Qi Sheng supported her. “Boss, you right now…”
Su Ye smiled. “Just watch the shop for me. I’m leaving.”
Qi Sheng could only follow her wishes, sitting obediently behind the counter.
However, when she looked down, she saw a notebook filled with writing. Only the first page was blank, as if a space had been reserved for a prologue. Su Ye had written on that page in a rare, neat, and lovely script, without a single cursive stroke.
Su Ye had written:
“Once upon a time, there was a cat who ran away from home.”
“A rabbit from the past found the cat.”
“The rabbit said: Do you want to be my friend?”
“…”
Qi Sheng looked at those few lines for a long time before closing the notebook for Su Ye.
The next time it would be opened would be many years later. A little girl would be bracing herself against the bookshelf, standing on her tiptoes, wondering what interesting things were on her Auntie’s shelf.
A voice seemed to guide her—or perhaps it didn’t—but she reached out a small, innocent hand toward an uncovered “book” in the corner.
***
[PART 1: 1998-2000]
[END]
![Us Outside of Time [Rebirth]](https://i1.wp.com/dobytranslations.com/wp-content/uploads/2025/12/rebirth.jpeg?resize=151,215 "Us Outside of Time [Rebirth]")
