After Returning To Twelve Years Before My Late Wife’s Death - Chapter 3

She gripped that thin wrist as if she were a drowning person who had touched driftwood, so hard the tendons and bones on the back of her hand bulged and turned pale.

Thunder rumbled. On the street a little farther away, pedestrians jogged to take shelter from the rain. The cries of people selling umbrellas, the broken fragments of conversation, the honking of traffic all merged into one chaotic mess.

Zhao Mingyue could not hear any of it clearly.

It was like a train speeding past. A sharp, high-pitched buzzing sound suddenly pierced through her skull and nailed itself into her eardrums.

The relentless ringing in her taut mind brought a dizzying, world-spinning vertigo.

Rainwater weighed down her lashes and flowed into her pupils. Her eyes ached and stung, but Zhao Mingyue did not dare blink. She stared motionlessly at the person before her as that person slowly turned back.

That young, numb, almost unfamiliar yet familiar face, so gaunt the bones showed sharply beneath the skin—

In the dim light cast by the buildings, in that lifted, blurred gaze, in Zhao Mingyue’s eyes—

Became clear inch by inch.

It was as if something unbearably heavy had slammed into her heart. A numb ripple spread rapidly from her chest through her whole body. Then sound and heartbeat, pulse and breath, thoughts and feelings all vanished.

The world fell suddenly silent in that instant.

Rumble—

The sky, split open by wandering lightning, brightened abruptly. As thunder crashed through it, the string in Zhao Mingyue’s mind that had been stretched to its limit snapped.

Her nearly stopped heartbeat began again, chaotic, urgent, pounding madly.

That face was even thinner than in her memory. Dull, lifeless skin. Messy hair. Peeling lips. Facial bones jutting from how thin she was. Familiar yet unfamiliar young features… everything was different, yet everything was also alike.

It was the young Cui Xuan.

It was the wife who had just died.

Gained and lost, lost and seen again.

“Cui Xuan.”

Her throat seemed to be blocked by something, and not a single sound came out. The muscles in Zhao Mingyue’s face twitched beyond her control. She wanted to smile, but what came sooner than the curve of her lips were tears.

The person who had briefly met her gaze soon lowered her eyes again in silence. Her slightly curled lashes drooped and trembled, and her pressed lips were bitten until they turned pale.

…She’s afraid of me.

Zhao Mingyue’s dull, aching, chaotic mind belatedly realized this.

Cui Xuan was afraid of her.

But why?

On what grounds?

The hand gripping Cui Xuan’s wrist tightened unconsciously. Zhao Mingyue’s hand trembled, her arm trembled, her whole body trembled. Her chest rose and fell violently several times. She gritted her teeth hard, and her temples throbbed painfully from the strain.

Almost through gritted teeth, she wanted to shout and question, “On what grounds?”

On what grounds?

You could never forget that Zhao Mingyue who saved you in your fantasy. Now I saved you, so why are you afraid?

On what grounds are you afraid?

On what grounds… when it is me, are you afraid?

Anger and resentment swelled in her not-quite-clear mind. Zhao Mingyue breathed rapidly and suddenly raised her hand.

A shadow fell over Cui Xuan’s chin. Cui Xuan trembled uncontrollably, instinctively hunching her body and raising her arms to protect her head.

She was shaking.

Zhao Mingyue’s hand, which had reached out to touch her cheek, froze in midair just like that.

The night wind blew over. Her back was icy cold. Zhao Mingyue pressed her lips together and withdrew her hand, only then realizing she had broken out in a cold sweat.

Looking at the silent, dull Cui Xuan before her, she opened her mouth and wanted to say something. But before the words could come out, there was suddenly a sound behind her ear.

Remembering that Cui Xuan was still in front of her, Zhao Mingyue held back the instinctive reaction to dodge. At the same time as she turned and raised her arm to block, her foot kicked out.

A brick fell to the ground with a thud. The person she kicked clutched his stomach and screamed, staggering back a few steps before barely standing firm.

If it had been Zhao Mingyue from more than ten years later, one kick would have left him paralyzed on the ground, unable to get up. But the current Zhao Mingyue only kicked him away.

Would a dream have details like this too?

Zhao Mingyue was dazed for two seconds, then rolled up her sleeves and clenched her fists. She showed no mercy at all, kicking the person completely to the ground. Her fist lifted high, and just as she was about to punch him a few more times, she suddenly remembered something and turned back to look.

Cui Xuan was almost at the entrance of the alley.

Running again.

She was running again.

Zhao Mingyue almost laughed from anger.

Feeling suffocated and wronged inside, she put even more force into the fist she had raised. It landed heavily, drawing another wail of pain. Then, without even looking, she stood and strode after Cui Xuan.

Cui Xuan’s heart was pounding wildly.

A stranger who had suddenly appeared, who had raised her fist and started beating people without saying a word—compared with the self-flattering thought that this person had come to help her, revenge or a fight seemed much closer to reality. Besides, this person had just raised her hand as if she wanted to hit her too.

She had to escape.

She had to escape quickly.

The moment one foot stepped out of the alley, someone suddenly grabbed the backpack on her back. Cui Xuan stumbled. Her fingers swayed briefly under the streetlamp outside the alley before she was yanked sharply back into it.

As her side hit the wall, Cui Xuan let out a muffled groan and hurriedly raised both hands to cover her head.

Zhao Mingyue’s hand, still gripping Cui Xuan’s backpack strap, was numb. From beating someone up just now, her hand was now both numb and painful.

Pain.

But dreams where she realized she was dreaming and still felt pain were not something she had never had before.

Cutting off that thought, Zhao Mingyue stared at Cui Xuan before her and no longer wanted to dig deeper into whether this was real.

“Why did you run?”

Cui Xuan’s raised arms froze. After a two-second pause, she lowered them slightly but still kept them in front of her face. From the gap between her crossed arms, one eye peeked out, filled with watery light, looking at Zhao Mingyue timidly.

“Why did you run? Are you afraid of me?”

Zhao Mingyue grabbed Cui Xuan’s wrist and forcefully pressed down the hands she had held in front of her face, staring intently into Cui Xuan’s eyes.

“You’re afraid of me. You think… I’ll hurt you?”

Cui Xuan’s lips moved, but before any words came out, the tears in her eyes fell first. She cried while shaking her head, her pressed lips trembling.

Broken, uncontrollable sobs mixed with hiccups from crying too hard. She looked so wretched, so pitiful.

So wretched, so pitiful, so afraid—and yet when she died, she had been so resolute, so utterly without attachment.

Those tears rolled down one by one, landing on Zhao Mingyue’s coat sleeve, on the back of the hand with which she was holding Cui Xuan, and in Zhao Mingyue’s eyes.

They burned.

The tears were cold, but when they fell, they were heavy and scalding.

Cui Xuan was crying because she was afraid of her. Afraid of her, resisting her, terrified of her to the point of shedding so many tears.

Zhao Mingyue could not stand seeing Cui Xuan cry. She could accept even less that Cui Xuan was crying because she feared her. What was most unbearable was that she had clearly done the same thing. She had clearly saved Cui Xuan too…

So how could Cui Xuan’s reaction be so utterly different?

It was as if she would never compare to that Zhao Mingyue. Even if she did the same thing, she would never be able to reach her.

“Don’t cry.”

Zhao Mingyue cupped her chin, forcing Cui Xuan to lift her head.

“What right do you have to cry… You’re not allowed to cry!”

The eyes forced upward widened in fright. Cui Xuan choked as if startled. The hiccups stopped, but two more tears rolled down.

“I’m… I’m sorry…”

“Why are you afraid of me?”

Zhao Mingyue’s jaw was taut, and the tendons and bones of the fingers holding Cui Xuan bulged.

“I didn’t bully you. I didn’t hit you. I only wanted to help you. I clearly saved you too…”

“I clearly saved you too… Why did you hide from me, why are you afraid of me, why did you run, why are you… why are you crying?”

Fragments of light still clung to Cui Xuan’s damp lashes. Her lips trembled faintly, and she let out one quivering syllable.

“…It hurts…”

Her voice was very soft, carrying a muffled nasal sound and a slight hoarseness from crying.

“…I’m sorry… I, I’m in pain…”

Zhao Mingyue’s expression froze. She instinctively loosened her grip on Cui Xuan’s hand.

By the faint light from outside the alley, she caught sight of Cui Xuan’s wrist, half-hidden beneath the too-short cuff of her sweater, marked with crisscrossing purple and blue bruises.

Her heart abruptly clenched. Zhao Mingyue unconsciously took two steps back. Her right hand, the one that had just grabbed Cui Xuan, burned with painful numbness.

“I…”

“Thank you.”

Cui Xuan lowered her head, tugging down her sleeve to cover the marks she did not want shown to others. In a muffled voice, she repeated,

“Thank you for helping me. You… how do you want me to repay you?”

“Repay?”

The headache slowly eased, but chaos still raged through her mind. Zhao Mingyue could barely think, could barely distinguish what was happening now. She only murmured the word after Cui Xuan by instinct.

Cui Xuan lowered her head and pressed close to the wall. Her fingers clutched tightly at the sleeve she had pulled down. Her lips pressed into a straight line. Hesitantly, she lifted her head to glance at Zhao Mingyue, then quickly lowered it again.

“I’m sorry, I don’t have money to give you. But other than money, I can… I can do other things. Help you with cleaning duty, move things, anything is fine…”

But none of that was what Zhao Mingyue wanted.

As Cui Xuan’s voice grew smaller and smaller, Zhao Mingyue’s reason seemed to gradually return at last.

None of that was what she wanted, but what Cui Xuan wanted to give, could give, and was willing to give now consisted only of these things.

Cui Xuan had only imagined that Zhao Mingyue after experiencing unbearable pain and despair, after reaching the edge of collapse and no longer being able to support herself. She transferred her feelings, projected them, deified her, and placed in her an intense love that was almost faith.

If nothing had happened yet, if nothing would happen, then to Cui Xuan, Zhao Mingyue was merely an ordinary stranger who had once extended a helping hand.

In fact, in Cui Xuan’s eyes, Zhao Mingyue’s help might even have been unnecessary, troublesome, dangerous. That was why the Cui Xuan from before had been saved by her, yet chose to run away.

It was because Zhao Mingyue had not done enough. She had not done enough. In Cui Xuan’s heart, she still was not important enough.

But what did she have to do for it to be enough? What did she have to do to make Cui Xuan’s feelings for her surpass those she had for that Zhao Mingyue?

Was it possible?

It was possible, right?

Cui Xuan really wanted to escape now, really wanted to stay far away from her, didn’t she? Zhao Mingyue could let Cui Xuan go. She could allow Cui Xuan to leave.

Cui Xuan would be like she had been in the previous life, returning to her eldest uncle’s house after school. During an argument, her foot would be smashed and broken. Cui Xuan would be in so much pain she could not sleep all night, and then tomorrow she would learn that her grandmother had died.

As long as Zhao Mingyue ignored everything that was about to happen next. As long as she sat by and did nothing. As long as she looked on with folded arms. As long as she let the flood of fate crush Cui Xuan.

Cui Xuan would be in so much pain, so much despair. Zhao Mingyue could, she could become Cui Xuan’s support at the moment when she was suffering the most. She could take Cui Xuan in when Cui Xuan was pushed back and forth and had nowhere to go. She could take Cui Xuan to receive the best treatment. She could help Cui Xuan, comfort Cui Xuan, accompany Cui Xuan, save Cui Xuan…

Cui Xuan would fall in love with her.

Cui Xuan would definitely fall in love with her, want to cling tightly to her, and never be able to leave her again.

As long as Zhao Mingyue did nothing.

As long as Cui Xuan suffered.

Then she could, she could obtain something real, passionate, more real and more passionate than what Cui Xuan felt for that “Zhao Mingyue”—something for her alone, belonging only to her.

Cui Xuan’s…

Love.