After Rebirth, My Ex-Girlfriend Became Obsessive - Chapter 68

Trembling fingers lightly traced An Yu’s pale face as Lin Duxi’s throat tightened, her heart feeling as though it had been gouged open, bleeding profusely.

“Ah Yu, what did you just say? Can you say it again for me?” Lin Duxi’s suppressed emotions could no longer be contained as she asked An Yu in a hoarse, gentle voice.

An Yu’s mind was hazy. Hearing Lin Duxi’s raspy tone, she felt an inexplicable heaviness in her chest. Struggling to open her eyes, she saw Lin Duxi’s reddened, damp eyes, and her heart clenched as if struck by a heavy blow.

She reached out and grasped Lin Duxi’s trembling fingers. The cool touch made her feel even more sorrowful. Drunk, she only wanted to ease Lin Duxi’s pain, so she obediently parted her lips to repeat herself.

But the words that sounded clear to her were indistinct to Lin Duxi’s ears. Lin Duxi stared fixedly at An Yu’s lips, yet when they moved, her vision blurred again.

A deeper chill settled over Lin Duxi’s body, dissipating the lingering intimacy in the room, leaving only the resurgence of turbulent emotions. Lin Duxi wrapped her arms around An Yu, burying her long hair against her shoulder, pressing her forehead into her as she quietly sobbed.

“Ah Yu… Ah Yu…”

What could she do to free her An Yu from that existence? How could she hold her Ah Yu close forever?

An Yu’s heart ached at the sound. The alcohol dulled her nerves, and her sluggish mind hadn’t yet processed what was happening when a blaring alarm erupted in her head.

“Warning… Warning… The host has disclosed the System’s existence to a key character in the novel. Based on the penalty status, punishment will now be enforced.”

“The host mentioned the System’s existence to a novel character twice. Although no substantial impact has occurred, punishment is still required.”

The System’s warnings clamored in the depths of her mind, jumbling her thoughts. Her drunkenness faded slightly as she noticed Lin Duxi still slumped against her shoulder, softly weeping. Hot tears dripped onto her fair skin, searing like flames that spread to the depths of her heart. Her chest tightened, and she instinctively comforted her.

“It’s okay, I’m here. Don’t be afraid, I’m right here.”

Lin Duxi shook her head, her sobs gradually subsiding.

As the System’s punishment announcement echoed in An Yu’s mind, Lin Duxi, still holding her, slowly drifted into sleep.

An Yu closed her eyes, intending to lay Lin Duxi down so she could endure the pain alone, but Lin Duxi clung to her like ivy, refusing to let go. Helpless, An Yu remained seated in the chair, cradling her as she waited for the punishment to begin.

She waited with shut eyes, but the expected pain never came. Only the faint, warm breaths against her ear and the delicate fragrance of Lin Duxi’s hair lingered around her.

Then she remembered-her punishment was no longer electric shocks. Instead, she had to fall asleep and relive a moment of past despair in her dreams.

Strangely, the realization eased the tension in her heart. If it had still been electric shocks, Lin Duxi would have been heartbroken to see her suffer.

She exhaled softly, carefully lifting the sleeping Lin Duxi in her arms. Using her knee to push open the bedroom door, she gently laid Lin Duxi on the bed. Taking a damp towel, she wiped away the sweat from her flushed face. Fragmented memories of her drunken state surfaced-her fingers tingled with the phantom heat of Lin Duxi’s skin.

A blush crept up to the tips of An Yu’s ears. Flustered, she hurried to the bathroom and splashed cold water on her face, cooling the rising warmth in her cheeks.

Staring at her disheveled reflection, she belatedly recalled the System’s warning. The image of Lin Duxi pleading hoarsely for her to repeat herself flashed in her mind, stealing her breath.

Lin Duxi already knew about the System. But since the System claimed no substantial impact had been made, its protective mechanism must have prevented her from fully understanding. Still, she must have realized that  something  was “controlling” An Yu.

An Yu sighed, splashing more cold water on her face to clear her head. Stepping out of the bathroom, she glanced at Lin Duxi, who lay restless on the bed, her brows furrowed.

An Yu went to the living room and mixed some honey water, placing it on the nightstand so Lin Duxi could drink it as soon as she woke. Then she left.

The more questions swirled in her mind, the more she wanted to confirm her suspicions about the dream punishment.

She didn’t even shower before collapsing onto her bed, exhaustion and alcohol pulling her swiftly into slumber.

Yet, contrary to her expectations-she dreamt of nothing.

Meanwhile, Lin Duxi was not as fortunate. A throbbing pain pulsed in her head as she slept, her dreams fragmented, fleeting images slipping through her fingers before she could grasp them.

The glimpses she caught were all of herself-every frame, every scene, only her. Sometimes with others, but never with An Yu.

Despair and helplessness resurged, breaking free from their cage and drowning her in a dark, turbulent sea. She was adrift, powerless against the currents dragging her deeper.

The final scene before she awoke was in a drizzling suburban cemetery. An Yu’s black-and-white photo smiled softly at her from the grave. Overcome, Lin Duxi collapsed before it, weeping uncontrollably. She couldn’t tell if the droplets on the flowers in her arms were tears or rain.

Outside, the autumn rain poured, washing away the remnants of summer. Thunder rumbled, its flashes piercing through the gaps in the curtains, illuminating the figure sitting bolt upright in bed, shaken to the core.

Lin Duxi clenched her fists, nails digging into her palms until they turned white.

The scenes from her dream replayed relentlessly. An Yu’s body growing cold-only one thought branded itself into her mind, sending ripples of terror through her.

An Yu will die.

Was this a premonition? Or a forgotten memory?

The rain outside grew heavier, hammering against the windows. Lin Duxi trembled, her back drenched in cold sweat.

The dreams only showed her fragments, all incomplete. The only clear image was that photo of An Yu-gentle, smiling, the sight that could make Lin Duxi’s heart skip a beat at a glance.

But she would never appear before her again.

Lin Duxi’s breath caught in her throat. Instinctively, she stumbled out of bed, barefoot, and rushed to the door to find An Yu-only for a clap of thunder to snap her back to reality.

What would she even say?  I dreamt you’ll die?  Or  Don’t go to high places?  She didn’t know the time or place from the dream. What could she do?

What could she do?

Her legs gave out. Slumping against the wall, Lin Duxi buried her face in her knees, suffocating under the weight of despair.

She realized she wasn’t thinking straight. Shakily, she reached for the pill bottle on the nightstand, knocking over the glass of honey water in her haste. She swallowed a few pills dry, the sweetness lingering on her tongue.

The white pill bottle rolled onto the carpet, its surface glinting coldly under the lightning’s glare.

Her thoughts steadied slightly. Sitting on the carpet, Lin Duxi deliberately revisited the dream, tormenting herself until she finally exhaled in relief.

In the dream, An Yu had been wearing summer clothes-ones Lin Duxi had never seen in her wardrobe. That meant it wasn’t the present. She still had time.

But the dreams showed too little. Even combined with the camping trip nightmare, she only knew the general setting of the incident. The rest remained a mystery.

The night’s ordeal was almost too much to believe, but now, with her composure regained, Lin Duxi became the high-IQ genius everyone knew once more.

The dreams could mean two things: a premonition, or a recovered memory.

If it was a premonition, she still had time to stop it. But if it was the latter…

Back in high school, some classmates would read novels during breaks. Lin Duxi never joined, but she’d overheard their excited discussions-plots like  going back in time to love you again  . She’d thought them absurd, but now, her suspicions leaned in that direction.

If that were true… in those scenes without An Yu, how had she survived?

Lin Duxi laughed bitterly. If An Yu really died… she wouldn’t have lived on alone.

Frustrated by the dreams’ vagueness, Lin Duxi’s chaotic theories lacked solid proof.

She sensed that her sudden changes were tied to whatever An Yu had mentioned tonight. That  thing  behind An Yu didn’t seem to exist in this world-she couldn’t identify it. At first, she’d been terrified, but now, it gave her more room to think.

That  thing  could control An Yu, knew her whereabouts… meaning it existed in a higher dimension. No locked doors or closed windows could guard against it. The realization horrified her.

She didn’t believe in gods or ghosts. If they’d existed, they should’ve appeared during her countless childhood prayers-not now, when she was finally about to share her life with the one she loved most.

An Yu’s fingers tightened around her phone, knuckles whitening. Fear and dread twisted into madness and hatred. Her eyes darkened, the suppressed obsession and agony now laid bare. She’d never considered herself a good person, and now, she wanted to tear  them  to pieces.

She wouldn’t let the dream come true.

Ning Xuan worked fast. By the next morning, An Yu had received her message along with a file.

[Luckily, that guy’s been loafing around Jiangcheng. He’s a troublemaker with messy connections-better stay away from people like him.]

An Yu had initially been puzzled as to why she hadn’t dreamed of her past memories, but upon seeing the documents, she decided to first review the man’s information.

The man’s name was Lin Ze, 20 years old, living on the outskirts of Jiangcheng. He’d dropped out of middle school and had been loafing around the city ever since. Recently fired from an electronics factory for inciting coworkers to steal money, he’d been caught using a wire to pick the factory’s security door before being hauled off to the police by security.

After skimming the file, An Yu reached one conclusion: this guy had nothing to do with the anti-fans or rival agencies targeting Lin Duxi. He was just pure human garbage. But then why was he fixated on Lin Duxi?

An Yu couldn’t figure it out. With time running short, she closed the file, dressed, and headed out. Today was the day she and Shi Yu had agreed to volunteer at the orphanage.

She’d texted Lin Duxi earlier, asking if she wanted to come along, but as usual, Lin Duxi had other commitments.