After the Early-Deceased White Moonlight of a Wealthy Family Returns (GL) - Chapter 43

Su Wu was awakened by the sun.

As the light hit the water, the sea transformed from last night’s silent terror into a shimmering, brilliant expanse.

The woman’s eyelashes fluttered as she tilted her head to avoid the sunlight piercing through the curtains. After a long moment, she opened her eyes; the strange, metallic sweetness in her mouth caused a rare second of disorientation.

The weather was abnormally good.

As the sunlight kissed her face, she looked down at her clothes—the same ones from last night—but with one major difference: the bloodstains on her skin had completely vanished. She instinctively reached up to touch the spots where the fangs had pierced her; her fingertips slid over skin that was perfectly smooth.

Everything was as if nothing had ever happened.

Any residual drowsiness in Su Wu’s mind vanished instantly.

She glanced to her side; the pillow bore no trace of having been used. The grey-toned pillowcase remained exactly as the housekeeper had meticulously ironed it.

Su Wu stood up immediately and searched the house barefoot.

Nothing. There was nothing.

Her gaze finally settled on the foyer by the door; only her own shoes remained neatly placed.

Su Wu bit her lip and returned to the room. Along the way, she noticed breakfast prepared on the table, likely bought from outside. A sticky note was attached, reading: ‘Heat it up before eating.’ Su Wu touched the rim of the soy milk cup; it was still somewhat warm, meaning Shen You’an hadn’t been gone long.

She hurried back to the room, and as she pushed the door open, she saw a pair of slippers prepared on the floor and a special gift box placed on the dressing table.

Su Wu stepped forward and opened it quickly.

Inside the box lay a Tahitian black pearl necklace. On an elegant small card was Shen You’an’s handwriting. She wrote: “A-jie, thank you for taking care of me all this time.” Below that line, written in noticeably different ink, was a single phrase: ‘I’m sorry.’

Su Wu’s fingertips tightened.

“Phone…” Su Wu murmured. “Coat… it’s in the coat…”

She ran up and down once more and found her coat hanging by the door. Her phone was in the pocket.

With trembling hands, she tried to unlock it, but there was no response. She pressed the button twice more, still nothing. Taking a deep breath, Su Wu found a spare charging cable and squatted by the outlet in the living room, watching the battery symbol turn from red to green.

Once it powered on, ignoring the flood of incoming messages, Su Wu went straight to the watch control software.

Zero data.

She switched to the GPS tracking icon.

The small red dot representing Shen You’an was flashing. Su Wu felt a surge of joy, followed immediately by a freeze. She looked around and found Shen You’an’s phone in the small bag left on the sofa.

She hadn’t taken anything with her.

“Don’t panic,” Su Wu told herself.

Even though her body was instinctively losing control—her hands shaking and stiffening from anxiety—the tightly wound string in her mind repeated three words: Don’t. Panic.

She opened the background system to check the villa’s surveillance.

Last night, two people entered; this morning, Shen You’an walked out alone. The girl’s face no longer held the soft, sweet smile Su Wu usually saw. Before closing the gate and leaving the yard, she even paused and looked back.

She was looking at the camera.

With just that one look, she turned and disappeared from the frame, still wearing the white gala dress from the ship.

Shen You’an had no phone and no money; where could she go? In her state… Su Wu’s heart suddenly felt hollow.

She called her assistant without hesitation.

“Help me find someone.”

“Contact the management of Guanshanhai, pull all surveillance, and…”

After managing to issue instructions with forced rationality, Su Wu stood up. Everything that happened yesterday truly felt like a dream.

She looked down.

It was her fault. She shouldn’t have lost her reason, shouldn’t have indulged a Shen You’an who had lost her capacity for thought into doing those things. Now that the girl was awake, she likely couldn’t accept it. If they hadn’t gone to that final step last night, You’an wouldn’t have lost consciousness, and she wouldn’t have left so abruptly.

Countless thoughts surged in her chest, stifling and clamoring. The more intense they became, the calmer Su Wu’s expression grew. She went upstairs, took the gift Shen You’an had given her, and fastened the silver snake-entwined black pearl around her wrist.

She called the department in charge of the coastal road. Since Astra frequently held events nearby, it was normal for Su Wu to have connections with these official agencies.

Before the call connected, Su Wu suddenly felt a slight warmth at her wrist. She tilted her head and saw a mysterious flicker of red swirling within the black pearl. She froze, sharply hung up the phone, and observed the pearl closely.

As her fingertip brushed it, a tiny, faint shadow emerged from the smooth Tahitian pearl.

It reminded Su Wu of the tail behind Shen You’an.

“Is it you?” she asked, lifting the shadow with her fingertip.

The tiny tail clung to the edge of her finger and swayed.

“Do you know where she is?”

After asking, Su Wu let out a self-deprecating laugh. She truly was going mad. As she waited for the call to reconnect, the tiny tail flicked, its tip splitting into a small arrow pointing toward the door.

“…”

Su Wu hung up. She walked out, only to find an unexpected person appearing.

Meng Xi let out an “aiyah” and ran over, supporting Su Wu as if she were a court lady attending to a queen. Under Su Wu’s puzzled gaze, she held her firmly and said worriedly, “Are you okay, Old Su? Xiao An contacted me early this morning saying you weren’t feeling well and asked me to check on you.”

Su Wu: “I’m fine.”

She looked at Meng Xi. “Did you drive?”

Meng Xi: “Yeah. Are you really okay? Should I take you to the hospital?”

Su Wu: “No. I’ll give you directions; take me somewhere.”

Meng Xi: “Where?”

Su Wu: “I don’t know.”

Meng Xi: “…” I have some words I’m not sure I should say.

She thought Su Wu was joking, but looking at her friend’s expression, something was wrong. The last time Meng Xi had seen her like this was the day they received the news of Shen You’an’s death. Instinct told Meng Xi that something major had happened.

Shen You’an looked at the scenery before her.

The clouds stretched out, and the sea met the sky. She had walked here aimlessly, wandering from the villa with no destination, following road signs until she left the crowds of tourists at a mountain trailhead.

Some curious people, seeing her climbing in such an outfit, asked if she was up there for a photoshoot.

Shen You’an answered nothing.

Her face was as white as snow; when her almond eyes stared with their oversized black pupils, it only made people feel a sense of dread. The questioners, finding no amusement and getting no reply, continued on their way with a smirk.

Shen You’an turned and stepped along a wild path toward the summit. The delicate lace of her white dress was torn, and stains marked the hem. She was completely oblivious, utterly unconcerned.

She now stood atop a wild peak where no one came. There was no man-made observation deck, only a thicket of wild grass turning slightly yellow in the autumn, and mist drifting by to rest on withered trees.

Shen You’an looked down at the sea of clouds.

She only needed to take one more step. From this height, she would likely be shattered to pieces. She wondered if she could truly die this time.

She looked at her hands—they looked human. Yet it was these hands that had controlled Su Wu last night, indulging her every desire. Her memories were fragmented, but she remembered Su Wu pushing open the lounge door on the ship and walking in to talk to her.

A-jie must have been terrified.

A-jie.

Shen You’an mocked herself. After doing such unspeakable things, she still had the audacity to call Su Wu that. What right did she have?

Shen You’an!

Honestly, Su Wu was no relation to you, yet she brought you home and cared for you with such tenderness. And you? How did you repay her? With a phantom under the moon, sharp fangs, and blood.

Whenever Shen You’an closed her eyes now, her mind was filled with the image of Su Wu collapsed in her arms. This was what she had done. Su Wu must hate her to death.

Shen You’an thought, Who wouldn’t hate her? To be entangled with such a repulsive monster, nearly devoured—nothing but pain could remain.

She lowered her gaze and took a step forward. Closing her eyes, she was about to let herself fall.

“Shen You’an!”

At the first shout, Shen You’an thought it was a hallucination. Until the voice drew closer and closer.

She turned back in disbelief: “Su… why are you here?!”

Su Wu’s heart was practically leaping out of her throat.

“Come back here first,” she said, her volume almost uncontrollable. “Shen You’an! Come here first!”

It was the first time Shen You’an had seen Su Wu like this. This woman, who was usually calm and composed regardless of the situation, was now panting, her forehead covered in sweat. Her pupils were full of tension and worry; she looked a bit angry and a bit terrified. When she shouted her full name, the tone was something Shen You’an had never heard before.

Shen You’an couldn’t speak. The better Su Wu treated her, the more of a bastard she felt she was. An ungrateful bastard.

Seeing her silence, Su Wu was anxious but fought to stay in control, trying to stabilize the emotion in her voice: “Shen You’an, are you not even going to listen to A-jie anymore?”

Shen You’an’s tears fell.

She gave a bitter laugh: “A-jie, you’ve seen it all. You know now.”

“I can’t go back.” She looked at her palms—fair, youthful; the calluses from years of drawing had disappeared. No one understood how much blood had been on these hands, and now, they were stained with Su Wu’s. She looked at her in pain and whispered, “A-jie, I shouldn’t even exist.”

In an apocalypse where everyone fought for survival, she was a weapon to solve contamination, and a monster feared and loathed in secret. Not to mention in this time of peace. She, Shen You’an, was an outlier no matter where she was. Unfit for society, unable to join the crowd, forever seeking body heat and blood, accompanied only by the instinct to hunt.

She had no kind. She shouldn’t be seen.

“During this time, A-jie, I truly thank you.” Shen You’an suppressed a sob and forced a smile. “I liked the room you prepared for me. The sunlight was beautiful when I woke up. I still remember the taste of the roasted chicken we sneaked out to eat behind Meng Dongdong’s back. So much has happened, but by your side, I felt nothing but happiness, as if I were still a normal person with a sister and friends.”

“But A-jie…”

Her voice began to shake uncontrollably; the intense emotion and suppressed despair made it difficult to maintain a steady narrative.

“I’ve been lying to you from the start.”

“Just like what you saw, just like what I did to you.”

“Su Wu.”

“I’ve been a monster from start to finish.”

The Shen You’an in Su Wu’s eyes died many years ago. The one surviving now was just a monster.

“My appearance was a mistake.” God’s arrangements were always absurd and illogical. Why should a dead person appear? She only affected Su Wu’s life for the worse, dragging her down. Would she become a nightmare Su Wu couldn’t escape? Tossing and turning in the night, entangled like a phantom. “I’m sorry, A-jie. I have no face left to—”

“Shen You’an!” Su Wu shouted her name with an anger she’d never used before, cutting her off. “You are determined to make this choice, aren’t you?”

Before Shen You’an could react, Su Wu strode toward her. “Fine. I won’t stop you.”

“But if you take one more step forward, Shen You’an, I will jump down with you.”

“What are you doing!” Shen You’an instinctively blocked Su Wu, preventing her from nearing the edge.

Su Wu shot her a cold, sharp glance: “It’s just death, isn’t it?”

She said dismissively, “Fine. A-jie will go with you.”

Shen You’an was stunned.

A mocking smile touched the corners of Su Wu’s mouth: “What? Little monster, are you also capable of feeling fear for a human?”

“Shen You’an, you’re afraid.”

Su Wu leaned in, pinching Shen You’an’s chin, and said to her, “A-jie will teach you a lesson today.”

“A true monster is never defined by sharp teeth, cold wings, or a strange tail.” She reached out and tapped Shen You’an’s heart. “It’s defined by what’s in here.”

“Now, I’ll ask one more time.”

“Shen You’an, are you jumping or not?”