That day, the usually cynical girl was uncharacteristically solemn. Leaning against the wall of the stairwell, she dialed a long-distance number. “Ma,” she said, “I think you were wrong.”
“You said you didn’t take Big Sister with you because you couldn’t manage both of us. Was that the truth?”
“I know you had to keep me by your side because of my heart condition.”
“I…”
The call ended abruptly with an elderly woman’s sharp, harsh reprimand. Lin Qining slowly lowered her arm, her head bowing low.
Truth and lies, lies and truth—how was she supposed to tell them apart anymore?
After so many years of surgeries and anesthesia, over and over again, her mind wasn’t as sharp as it used to be. She had lost many memories, and her childhood in An City had long since faded into a blur. But hearing that one sentence over the phone…
The girl pressed a hand tightly over her heart.
It hurt. It hurt so much.
She blinked. A single, crystalline tear gathered on her long lashes. She blinked again, and the tear shattered against her skin, leaving nothing but a faint trail of moisture.
Back in the ward area, Su Ye’s attempts to knock had failed, and she couldn’t bring herself to break down the door. She slid down against the wood, hugging her knees, weeping silently.
She hadn’t known. She really hadn’t known. How could she have been so dull? How could she have missed everything?
She pressed her ear to the door, straining to catch the conversation inside—
“…That’s how it was when I first met Youle. I only got to know her slowly after that. She’s truly incredible. We all follow the six-three school system, but she skipped straight to middle school after fifth grade. She skipped a grade in middle school, too, and took the college entrance exams during her second year of high school. Even though she didn’t go to the absolute top-tier schools, she still attended university in Ye City.”
Yue Chengqi kept her head down, suppressing her tears. Her voice was low and slow.
“She applied for early graduation in her junior year and then went abroad. Her master’s degree was impressive, too—a business degree from a school ranked in the top few dozen worldwide. Don’t be fooled by the fact that she’s only two years older than me; because of how fast she studied, she started working very early. When I was still in school, she’d already been in the workforce for a long time. She only joined Everguest during my sophomore year. Sister, don’t you think it’s a coincidence? Don’t you think…”
Yue Chengqi couldn’t go on. The girl who usually cried in silence finally let out a sob. She covered her face with her hands, her shoulders trembling violently.
“Why didn’t you tell me? You should have told me sooner, Sister.”
If she had known earlier, she wouldn’t have wasted so much time. At the very least, she could have made Lin Wanjia a little happier. She could have brought more joy to this beautiful, refined woman she had met in 1998.
How could she have found out so late?
Lin Wanjia remained silent, her hand resting on Chengqi’s shoulder.
The woman pressed her lips together. “Even if you’d known, there was nothing to be done. Haven’t you already guessed? It’s something… congenital.”
In reality, the one with the congenital disease was Lin Qining, not her. She was simply playing along with Yue Chengqi’s previous assumptions.
“And what about that benign tumor?! Medical technology is still so backward right now. Even if it’s benign… the stomach is an emotional organ. If you could just be a bit happier, a bit more joyful, things would surely be better, right? Wanjia, why don’t I… let me tell you more about Youle.”
“She’s quite tall, nearly 1.7 meters. She has long limbs and perfect vision—no glasses at all. She’s stunning. She loves to laugh and has such a fiery, lively personality. She’s so cheerful and outgoing, not like a typical Southerner at all. She’s incredibly capable, she…”
Yue Chengqi was a complete mess. She no longer knew what she was saying; the words tumbling out were driven purely by instinct.
She didn’t know what else to say, so she insisted that Lin Youle was the best, the most perfect person imaginable.
“Enough.” Lin Wanjia interrupted her, pulling the girl closer. “Listen to me.”
She held the stubborn child steady. “Stop blaming yourself. What could you have done? You studied business, not medicine. What could you have possibly achieved?”
“…”
“Alright, stop worrying. Look, if Youle comes to Everguest in the future, then someone must have told her about it, right? You just haven’t met the ‘me’ from the future yet, that’s all.” Lin Wanjia offered a small smile. “I won’t have those… terrible thoughts anymore. Don’t be afraid.”
“Really?”
Lin Wanjia’s smile was earnest. Her voice was gentle as she said, “Of course. I have all of you now. With you here, I’m not afraid anymore.”
Yue Chengqi bit her lower lip hard, burying her face in the woman’s shoulder. “Sister, wait for me,” she whispered through her tremors. “When I get back, I’ll try to find a way to travel between the two time periods. The country is so powerful in the future, and An City is incredibly developed. I’m sure I can find a way that’s less painful, I…”
“No.” Lin Wanjia gently cupped the girl’s face, lifting her head so their eyes met. “Don’t do those things, you silly girl.”
“I don’t know what kind of past shaped your personality like this, but Ah Huan, you didn’t come here to save anyone. You came here to experience a life. Don’t stand in the heavens looking down on us. Don’t pity people. Just live your life, okay?”
The woman brushed away the stray hairs clinging to the girl’s damp face, gently wiping the tear tracks. “Don’t treat yourself like a god. You aren’t here to rescue everyone else. That isn’t your responsibility.”
“You aren’t a heavenly deity, nor are you a Bodhisattva. Be a good girl and let yourself go, alright?”
“Experience your own life. Stop constantly trying to mend the regrets of others. Go do the things you want to do. Fulfill your own heart’s desires. Okay?”
Yue Chengqi slowly pulled the door open. The young girl sitting outside sprang up instantly. They shared a brief look before Su Ye brushed past her like a gust of wind, rushing into the ward.
Yue Chengqi stumbled, catching herself against the wall to keep from falling. She slowly slid down until she was sitting on the floor.
Lin Wanjia’s final words echoed in her ears. Don’t always think about saving others. Don’t treat yourself like a god. Experience life here. Experience your own life.
Not a god?
She hugged her legs weakly.
She didn’t want to be a god. She just wanted to do what she could within her power. But the reality was… it seemed she had inadvertently turned herself into an observer. She hadn’t realized how wrong that was until Lin Wanjia pointed it out tonight.
How did it come to this?
The girl rested her head on her knees. Nearby, she could hear Su Ye’s voice, softened by tears, as she hovered by Lin Wanjia’s bedside, begging her over and over again to never have those dark thoughts again.
“I won’t,” the woman’s voice was flat but steady. “I really won’t. Believe me, okay?”
“Xiao Ye, I want you to be happy, just like I want Ah Huan to be happy. Both of you are so smart, with such bright futures… Be good. You must be happy. Be free, alright?” Youle—’Have Joy’—wasn’t just the name she gave her child; it was the wish she held for every child growing up alongside her. She wanted everyone to be free. She wanted everyone to be happy.
These good children around her—each one deserved an abundance of joy.
“…”
Their conversation didn’t last long. Lin Wanjia eventually said she was tired and needed rest.
Su Ye walked out, looking soul-weary. Above her, the old, decaying hospital lights flickered as the wind rattled them. Her shadow flickered in tandem, growing faint and thin.
She closed the door and turned her head. Yue Chengqi was still sitting on the floor, one leg curled and the other stretched out, her arm resting on her knee. Her head was bowed, as if she were shrouded in gloom.
Now, she only had her.
Su Ye walked over slowly and sat down beside her, leaning her head against Yue Chengqi’s shoulder.
As their warmth pressed together, Su Ye let out a long breath. The tension left her body instantly, though she remained silent. Amidst their long, steady breathing, she finally managed to murmur two words: “Ah Huan…”
She gripped Yue Chengqi’s arm tightly. Don’t go. Let me lean on you. Right now, you’re the only one who can understand me.
The early winter wind wasn’t too biting. It swept in from the other end of the corridor, warmed by the long stretch of heaters, reaching them as nothing more than a faint chill.
That slight chill, however, forced them into a state of heightened clarity.
After a long while—likely a very long while—Su Ye whispered, “I’m sorry. This was a terrible birthday, wasn’t it?”
The girl who had been as still as a statue moved slightly, shaking her head. “It wasn’t. It wasn’t terrible at all.”
Su Ye relaxed a fraction. “That’s good.”
“Ah Huan, what do you think love actually is…?”
How was it so mysterious? It could make blood relatives so cold to one another, yet make strangers feel such deep, mutual sympathy.
What was love, really?
Leaning on Yue Huan’s shoulder, she finally asked the question that had been haunting her for so long.
“Isn’t love supposed to be the source of courage? Why is it that the more you love someone, the more cowardly you feel?”
Why was it that even though they loved each other—even though they could lean on each other like this in their most painful moments—they still lacked that final bit of courage?
She felt the person she was leaning on shift. A long breath was slowly exhaled. Then, an arm reached around, her hand grasping Su Ye’s arm in return.
“Ah Ye, must it be me? Have you truly thought this through?”
Her voice was hoarse and low. She had been crying for a long time; her nose was blocked, and her vocal cords were swollen.
Su Ye froze.
But the paralysis didn’t last. She practically bolted upright. Yue Chengqi looked up at her in confusion, but before she could speak, Su Ye half-pulled, half-dragged her to her feet.
Was the impact of that question really that powerful?!
“Let’s talk at home,” Su Ye said.
“But, Wanjia and Youle…”
Just then, Lin Qining, who had finished her call and regained her composure, walked back. Su Ye grabbed her. “Can you take care of Wanjia and Youle?”
Lin Qining looked at her like she was a monster. “That’s my sister. My flesh and blood.”
Her eyes were red, too, though not as obviously as Su Ye’s. There were clear signs of fresh makeup on her face; she had likely cried as well.
But Su Ye didn’t have time to overthink it. She gave a quick instruction, turned, and dragged Yue Chengqi away at a run.
Even though Yue Chengqi kept shouting for her to slow down and not aggravate her leg injury, Su Ye refused to decelerate for a second. It wasn’t until they entered their courtyard that she finally dropped her arms, dragging her feet as she sat down at the table.
Yue Chengqi followed behind her. Her heart was filled not only with romantic tension but also with confusion from their frantic sprint. She went inside, poured two glasses of warm water, and brought them out. After catching her breath, she asked, “Ah Ye, why were you in such a hurry to get back?”
“I was afraid…” Su Ye was still panting.
Yue Chengqi lowered her gaze, her voice soft. “I’m sorry. But since I was the one who asked, I wouldn’t have started a fight with you out there.”
She assumed Su Ye was afraid of a repeat of the day she had confessed. She wouldn’t do that; she would try to exercise restraint, or at least not explode at the hospital. Her secrets couldn’t be made public.
But Su Ye refuted her.
The girl stared at her with red eyes, her chin tilting up slightly. “No, I mean… I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from wanting to kiss you.”
The words were a bold, joyful probe, yet because of her tilted chin, the tears that hadn’t finished drying slipped from the corners of her eyes. They rolled past her temples and disappeared into her hair.
![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]")
