After Rebirth, My Ex-Girlfriend Became Obsessive - Chapter 66
An Yu really liked the bracelet Lin Duxi had given her. Ever since her birthday, she had worn it on her wrist, often reaching out to touch it absentmindedly.
Every time Lin Duxi noticed this subconscious gesture, it felt like the softest part of her heart had been gently brushed. The selfish desire hidden deep within her swelled again and again—she loved this feeling.
For high school seniors, winter break was merely symbolic. After just two weeks, the school called them back to continue studying. Aside from the few days during the New Year when she returned to the orphanage to help the director prepare for the festivities, Lin Duxi spent the rest of her time at An Yu’s home, keeping her company.
An Huaili and Yu Yingzhen came back to spend a day with An Yu on New Year’s Eve before catching the earliest flight back abroad to continue their busy schedules. Work at the company seemed unusually hectic lately. An Yu hadn’t seen her parents this busy in a long time, but she didn’t dwell on it, assuming it was just the usual post-holiday rush.
Before leaving, they gave An Yu a large sum of money, instructing her to hand it over to the housekeeper to replenish her energy during the exhausting final year of high school. An Yu secretly stashed away more than half of it into her private savings—she had her own plans.
She wanted to travel with Lin Duxi after graduation, to attend university in the same city, free from any constraints, unknown to anyone else—just the two of them. The dreams of youth were always so fervent. Once an idea took root, they were eager to make it happen, as if the brightness of the future was just within reach.
After Lin Duxi returned from the orphanage, An Yu practically dragged her into studying nonstop. Lin Duxi was stunned by this sudden change but also curious about her motivation. She feared that An Yu’s ambitions might not include her.
Then, on a quiet afternoon, as she was solving a problem, she heard An Yu’s voice—soft, seemingly casual, but with a faint tremor at the end—asking where she wanted to go for university.
Lin Duxi’s heart melted like brittle candy, the sweetness spreading through her. The hand holding the pen trembled slightly, but fortunately, An Yu was too nervous to notice.
Pretending indifference, Lin Duxi named the university in a city she had long considered. Sure enough, she saw the flicker of light in An Yu’s slightly shaking pupils. A smile tugged at the corners of her lips.
The reason was simple—that city had a prestigious 211 university with Lin Duxi’s desired major, as well as a school An Yu could realistically get into with effort. It was perfect.
An Yu’s reaction said it all. Lin Duxi’s affection overflowed uncontrollably. Over and over, she traced An Yu’s studious profile in her mind, as if engraving her image into her heart, never to forget.
With only two months left before the college entrance exams, An Yu’s anxiety grew as the deadline loomed. She had a nagging feeling that her parents were hiding something from her—something related to the company. When she asked, they brushed her off, telling her not to worry and to focus on her studies.
Unsettled, An Yu confided in Lin Duxi. Lin Duxi pulled her close, letting her rest on her shoulder while gently stroking her hair. She didn’t speak, but her presence alone gave An Yu immense comfort.
With her head on Lin Duxi’s shoulder, the scent of fresh laundry detergent enveloping her, An Yu’s exhaustion and unease faded. Slowly, she closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.
Lin Duxi lowered her gaze, taking An Yu’s hand and intertwining their fingers tightly. She lightly tapped the bracelet on An Yu’s wrist, the cool touch sinking into her heart like a pebble dropping into a deep lake, leaving her chest heavy.
When the college entrance exams ended and An Yu stepped out of the examination hall, the sounds of classmates embracing, crying, and celebrating around her felt distant, as if she hadn’t fully processed it yet. She let the crowd carry her downstairs.
Under the scorching June sun, An Yu stood at the foot of the building and spotted Lin Duxi in the distance. She was beneath a willow tree, dappled shadows dancing across her upright, cool figure. Raising her eyes in the interplay of light and shadow, her clear gaze met An Yu’s.
They returned to An Yu’s home together. Officially, Lin Duxi had completed her half-year stint as a “tutor” and no longer needed to stay at An Yu’s place. Yet neither of them mentioned it, walking home in silence. Lin Duxi went to the guest room to pack her things, and An Yu followed.
An Yu moved sluggishly, glancing at Lin Duxi from time to time. Lin Duxi’s mind was equally chaotic. Their restless gazes collided in the cramped room.
No one knew who initiated it first, but their lips met in the narrow space, the temperature rising, the air thick with a sweet, intoxicating fragrance that seeped into their senses, melting all their love into the moment.
Lin Duxi turned her head, panting lightly against An Yu’s shoulder, her damp eyes hazy. She noticed the blush creeping up An Yu’s fair ears and couldn’t help but feel a surge of joy.
She reached out, grasping An Yu’s wrist, her fingers tracing the engraved violet pattern on the bracelet, trembling with excitement.
A cool sensation spread across her shoulder, and An Yu’s straight posture faltered slightly. She raised a hand to pat Lin Duxi’s slender back, the frantic beating of her heart resonating through her, filling her entire being with thoughts of the girl in her arms.
A breeze slipped through the window, rustling their clothes. Their hands remained intertwined, fingers locked, as if the world held only the two of them.
“Lin Duxi, does kissing mean we’re girlfriends now?”
Hearing this, Lin Duxi loosened her embrace, gently cupping An Yu’s face. Her eyes shimmered with deep affection. Without words, she leaned closer, resting her forehead against An Yu’s, murmuring unconsciously.
“I love you so much, An Yu. I want to be with you every second of every day.”
Her lips brushed An Yu’s lightly before finally pressing into a kiss. The love she had whispered in her heart a thousand times poured out, and Lin Duxi only wished for An Yu to respond with the same fervor. The scorching passion spread through her limbs, as if she wanted to give all of herself to her beloved.
Director Tan Yiyan’s script audition was scheduled for the afternoon. By noon, An Yu was already nervous, her palms sweating as she sat in the car heading to the venue.
Rubbing her temples, last night’s dream resurfaced in her mind. Even after six years, she could still dream about the college entrance exams—proof of how much importance she placed on this audition.
An Yu took a sip of water and glanced out the window at the bustling streets, but her mind kept replaying the memories from last night. The exams were only a small part; the rest were moments she had shared with Lin Duxi.
It felt strange. The events in the dream were indeed her memories, but it was as if she had traveled back in time to relive them—every detail, every movement still vivid upon waking.
This had started after that “punishment.” Even the recollection of her confrontation with the black-clad figure on the rooftop had been unusually sharp. It was as if long-buried or forgotten memories were reviving, filling in all the gaps she had missed.
An Yu’s heart tightened. She wanted to provoke the system again, trigger another punishment, and see if she could recover more forgotten details.
Unfortunately, the system seemed preoccupied. No matter how many times she called out to it in her mind, there was no response. Her plan would have to wait.
An Yu picked up her phone, where a message from Lin Duxi from a few minutes ago waited.
“An Yu, I’m free today. Can I come see you tonight?”
“I’ll cook for you, okay?”
“What do you want to eat? I’ll make your favorites.”
In just a few lines, Lin Duxi had already arranged An Yu’s evening without waiting for a reply.
Her questions were like the gentlest spring breeze, soothing An Yu’s nerves. The tension that had gripped her earlier melted away.
An Yu couldn’t help but smile as she replied:
“Okay.”
Her assistant, noticing how An Yu’s furrowed brows relaxed after reading the messages, sighed in relief. Seizing the opportunity, she said,
“An-jie, the online sentiment about you has been turning positive lately. This audition is bound to go well.” As she spoke, she handed An Yu her phone, showing her the comments under her latest Weibo post.
Most were expressions of admiration and support, lifting An Yu’s spirits. She scrolled down absentmindedly but accidentally stumbled upon a trending hashtag:
#LinDuxiAnYu – The Details You Didn’t Know#
An Yu’s eyebrows rose. She clicked on it, and the assistant handed her the phone.
The topic had been created by Hello, Friend! to boost their CP’s popularity. The show’s official account had posted several behind-the-scenes moments not captured on camera, but that wasn’t why the hashtag had climbed to the top five.
An Yu kept scrolling and soon found a more widely shared post—a video tagged with the hashtag and their ship name.
The footage was dark and rainy, the angle fixed as if someone had hastily set down the recording device.
After a few seconds, An Yu realized what it was—a clip from the second episode of Hello, Friend! , the night they slept in tents.
The main focus was the rainy night in the distance. In the dim light, the upper left corner showed the edge of a tent, with occasional figures running past the frame amid chaotic shouts. Then, one of the tents rustled as if someone inside was unzipping it. The lighting was too poor to make out details, only silhouettes.
Then the zipper opened, and Lin Duxi appeared, standing at the entrance and looking around as if searching for someone.
The video was only a minute long, but the comments went far beyond its content.
[I remember from the livestream, Lin Duxi’s tent wasn’t at that angle. No way, no way!]
[To confirm your suspicion, I rewatched the episode. I’m certain—Lin Duxi’s tent was NOT there. There was only one tent in that spot: An Yu’s!]
[Lin Duxi and An Yu slept in the same tent. I get that during the first episode, sharing a room could be explained by limited space, but now? Everyone had their own tent, yet they still shared one. What does that mean?!]
[My CP is real!]
[Oh my god, I’ve struck gold!]
An Yu frowned. If this video spread, it would cause trouble for Lin Duxi.
Without hesitation, she dialed Ning Xuan.
“Ning-jie, about the trending hashtag—”
“You saw it, right? Your CP with Lin Duxi has gained even more fans, and your popularity is soaring! How does it feel?” Ning Xuan’s excited voice blared through the speaker, but An Yu’s frown deepened.
“But this will affect Lin Duxi more, won’t it? Leaked footage from the show could harm her reputation. How did this even get out?”
Ning Xuan was taken aback by her sudden anger. “What do you mean? Wasn’t this video posted with Lin Duxi’s approval? What’s wrong?”