After Rebirth, My Ex-Girlfriend Became Obsessive - Chapter 79
Lin Duxi froze in place. For a moment, she thought the scene before her was a hallucination born of longing. Under the backlight, An Yu’s face was faintly visible, her dark lashes trembling slightly.
She raised her hand, guiding An Yu’s fingers to her own cheek, then lowered her gaze, eyes misty.
“Only remembering now?” she chided, her voice soft and melodious, laced with unmistakable grievance.
An Yu’s movements stilled. The palm resting against Lin Duxi’s cheek gently traced the soft skin, and somewhere deep in her heart, something quietly collapsed.
“I’m sorry,” An Yu apologized sincerely. It was true-she had only recalled this memory in the past few days.
When she passed by this park a few days ago, she had felt an inexplicable familiarity, as if she had been here before. Then, last night, drunk and dreaming, fragments of her childhood surfaced-and the little girl who had once played with her was now standing right beside her.
Holding her hand tightly.
Lin Duxi turned her face away stubbornly, refusing to accept the apology.
“Apologies aren’t just words. You have to make it up to me.”
An Yu: “Make it up to you?”
Lin Duxi turned back, her eyes already shimmering with fresh tears, the wet glimmer unbearably tender.
“I’ve always remembered you, An Yu. But you only just remembered me.” Her eyes reddened again.
An Yu immediately relented. “Fine, I’ll make it up to you. What do you want?”
Lin Duxi lowered her head slightly, the gathered tears fading as the corners of her lips curled up.
“Then consider it added to what you owe me. You’re already in debt for quite a few things anyway.”
An Yu thought about it-owing one more or many more didn’t make much difference-so she quickly agreed.
“Did we… ride that merry-go-round before?” An Yu pointed at a rusted, broken-down metal structure in the distance. The object was so dilapidated that its original form was unrecognizable-only someone who had played there as a child could tell it had once been a small carousel.
“I remember we sat on the same horse,” An Yu murmured, her voice light with the joy of the memory. The word childhood itself carried a nostalgic hue.
A sweet warmth blossomed in Lin Duxi’s chest, but she mercilessly countered, “That’s because you said you were afraid of heights and insisted on sitting with me.”
An Yu’s fingers twitched. Had she really been that clever as a child?
She awkwardly withdrew her hand and rubbed her nose. “Oh… I didn’t dream of that part.”
If she had dreamed of it, she wouldn’t have brought it up.
Her poor acting didn’t escape Lin Duxi’s notice. After the emotional turmoil of the past few days-thinking the love she had finally obtained was slipping away again-Lin Duxi wasn’t about to let her off easily.
With that in mind, she reached out, gripping An Yu’s chin and forcing her to meet her gaze. “As I recall, when we walked the glass plank road at Bomi Mountain, you weren’t afraid of heights.”
Lin Duxi seemed to have caught a whiff of something hidden, her eyes narrowing slyly like a cunning little cat.
“Oh~” She drew out the syllable, watching as An Yu’s head drooped lower and lower. “So you had ulterior motives even back then.”
The tips of An Yu’s ears, hidden beneath her hair, burned crimson. She cleared her throat softly, feigning ignorance as she deliberately changed the subject. “You haven’t eaten yet, right? Let’s go find something.”
She turned her face away, avoiding Lin Duxi’s gaze, afraid of giving herself away further-but the motion exposed her reddened ears.
Lin Duxi smirked, deciding not to tease her further. Seeing An Yu flustered because of her lifted the gloom that had weighed on her heart.
The park, which had once seemed endlessly vast in childhood, was now fully explored in just a casual stroll.
At the entrance, Lin Duxi turned back to look at this small world-one that had once held her pain but also brought her light-and tightened her grip on An Yu’s hand.
In An Yu’s dream, she and the little girl had played until afternoon, promising to meet again the next day. But at the dream’s end, she had waited in vain, day after day, until hope faded.
An Yu shrugged nonchalantly. What did it matter now? Lin Duxi was here with her. There was no need to ask.
It had been years since Lin Duxi last visited this place, but thankfully, not much had changed. Following her memory, she led An Yu to a small eatery they used to frequent.
Tucked deep into an alley, the shop was tiny, as if waiting randomly for fate to bring customers in.
They arrived just past the lunch rush. The owner was clearing plates and simply told them to take a seat.
Lin Duxi guided An Yu to a corner.
Having never been here before, An Yu was curious about everything, her gaze flitting around the shop, her lashes fluttering.
Lin Duxi found it amusing. “What are you looking at?”
“I want to memorize all of this.”
“Why?”
An Yu met her eyes, regret flickering in her gaze. “This is a place you’ve been to countless times before. But today is my first time here with you. I’ve missed so much of your past… If I remember everything now, I can at least pretend I was here with you all those times.”
They had lost too much time. Now, every second together felt precious enough to split in half.
Lin Duxi’s heart melted at her words, warmth spilling from her eyes in a radiant smile.
Coincidentally, An Yu was also looking at her. Their eyes, brimming with intense emotion, met-the eyes of someone you love are a second window for conveying feelings.
Without words, yet it spoke volumes more than any language ever could.
On that early autumn morning, the air carried a slight chill. The wind, trailing fallen leaves, quietly slipped into a small, bustling eatery at the end of the alley, stirring the emotions of two women seated in the corner.
“Here’s your noodles!” The proprietress set the bowls on their table. “Eat up while they’re hot, beauties.”
She wiped her fingers, slightly scalded by the hot bowls, on her apron before turning to greet new customers entering the shop.
Lin Duxi carefully placed the chopsticks and bowl in front of An Yu. “This place is a great deal-the portions are generous, the noodles are delicious, and they’re not greasy at all.” Her eyes sparkled as she watched An Yu, eagerly awaiting her reaction.
An Yu took a sip of the broth, her brows relaxing. It really was delicious. The best food was always found in these little alleyway shops.
“No wonder this place has stayed so popular after all these years.”
Lin Duxi smiled in satisfaction before picking up her own chopsticks and digging in.
Once Lin Duxi finished, An Yu pulled a small note from her pocket and handed it to her.
Lin Duxi took it, immediately struck by the childish handwriting. At first glance, she thought it might be her own writing from when she was little-until she read the message:
“I wish Sister Duxi and I will be together forever.”
Lin Duxi froze, then her eyes curved into crescents. “Who wrote this?”
An Yu: “Xiaoxiao from the orphanage. She slipped it to me secretly.”
Lin Duxi chuckled. “How did she know… Did she watch the show?”
An Yu smiled too. “Maybe.”
Under the surveillance of the system, her every move was transparent. If the system discovered that the agent it had assigned to complete the mission had fallen in love with the mission’s target, there was no telling what kind of chaos it might unleash, given its temperament.
Lin Duxi might have already sensed the system’s existence. She didn’t know what method the system had used to claim it had “no substantial impact,” but if that method had come at Lin Duxi’s expense, then she needed to discuss it with her away from the system’s watchful eyes.
For now, the system still maintained a matchmaking stance toward Lin Duxi. Not long ago, Pei Lu held a press conference. With his seemingly sincere apology and an overwhelming wave of whitewashing PR, he had actually managed to regain a portion of his fanbase.
Hello, Friend also hadn’t released any announcement about his departure from the show, making it hard not to suspect the system was pulling strings behind the scenes.
An Yu felt sickened by its actions, but she was trapped under its control. Both yesterday and today, her intimate gestures with Lin Duxi had earned her stern warnings from the system echoing in her mind. An Yu didn’t think she had crossed any lines, but from the system’s increasingly vigilant behavior, she could tell it was beginning to distrust her.
As she thought this, her gaze fell on Lin Duxi’s clear, bright eyes, and a wave of guilt surged within her.
Lin Duxi watched as An Yu’s expression darkened, her own cheerful demeanor turning serious.
She had deliberately glossed over that line earlier, but now An Yu was overthinking it.
She knew about the presence behind An Yu-perhaps an entity from a higher plane of existence. She had noticed it back when An Yu was drunk, their faces so close yet the words from her lips indistinct.
Strangely, she didn’t find it all that surprising.
Maybe it was because of all those prophetic dreams she’d been having.
In the dreams, An Yu’s figure grew clearer, and the aura of death surrounding that day grew thicker. If these really were glimpses of the future, she had to prevent that day from ever coming to pass.
Whether the presence behind An Yu was benevolent or malevolent, she needed to eliminate it-but without alerting it, without startling the snake in the grass.
Above all, I must not hurt A’Yu.
With that thought, Lin Duxi reached out and gently tapped An Yu’s forehead with her finger. “A’Yu, you’re being naughty.”
An Yu snapped out of her thoughts, the guilt still lingering in her eyes, making her expression particularly striking.
“A’Yu, you zoned out right in the middle of talking. You weren’t even looking at me-am I really that uninteresting to you?” Lin Duxi frowned slightly, her gaze scrutinizing and irresistibly charming.
An Yu: “No, I was just thinking about what Xiaoxiao told me.”
Lin Duxi narrowed her eyes. “What did she say?”
“She said she wants us to visit the orphanage together. Let’s go.” She reached out and took Lin Duxi’s hand, her nose wrinkling slightly-she really did look like a puppy just then.
Lin Duxi sighed. How could she possibly refuse when An Yu looked at her like that? “Alright.”
An Yu’s heart swelled with excitement. She was about to suggest they go right away when Lin Duxi’s next words stopped her.
“Not today.”
An Yu’s eyes drooped slightly. “Why not?”
Lin Duxi smiled, gently stroking An Yu’s cheek. “How much sleep have you gotten since last night? You need to rest properly. And look at me.”
She gestured for An Yu to take a good look at her.
An Yu obediently studied her. “You look beautiful-rosy lips, pearly teeth.”
She wasn’t lying. Someone like Lin Duxi would look stunning even in a potato sack.
Lin Duxi’s heart melted at her earnest tone. Fighting the urge to kiss her, she said, “Flatterer. I haven’t been resting well either, and we can’t just show up at the orphanage looking like this.” It was her second home, a place she hadn’t dared return to in so long. She couldn’t go back dressed so casually.
An Yu thought it over and realized Lin Duxi was right-she’d been too caught up in her excitement.
After the meal, they prepared to head back. Neither had driven, so Lin Duxi called the company to arrange a car.
With time to spare after eating, they took a stroll around the neighborhood and found themselves back at the park’s entrance.
They’d already been there earlier, so there was no need to go in again. An Yu tugged at Lin Duxi’s hand, ready to leave, but the other woman didn’t budge.
“What’s wrong?” An Yu moved closer to her.
“Do you remember the promise we made when we played in the park?” Lin Duxi asked.
An Yu’s heart skipped a beat. She wasn’t sure why Lin Duxi was bringing this up now, but she answered honestly.
“We promised to meet at the park again the next day.”
Lin Duxi smiled, though there was a trace of bitterness in it, and turned her gaze toward the dilapidated park ahead.
“That’s the one. But I didn’t keep that promise the next day… or any day after that.”