Chapter 45: The Person I Cannot Forget

Her consciousness was hazy, sinking and floating in the deep, bottomless chaos.

At some point, You Xue saw light.

Bright rays pierced through her eyelids, casting a soft, pale glow.

You Xue slowly opened her eyes and saw a pure white ceiling.

Her nostrils twitched slightly, catching the faint smell of disinfectant.

The blanket was white, the pillow also pure white.

The stand beside the hospital bed was still there, but no IV bag hung from it.

Sunlight streamed in through the window, and the wind rustled the blue curtains gently.

“Awake?”

A soft female voice sounded beside her.

You Xue turned her head and saw that familiar, loving face that only existed in her memories.

“Mom?”

She froze for a moment, then called out instinctively.

“What’s wrong? Had a nightmare?”

The woman smiled gently and reached out to stroke You Xue’s head.

Hesitant, still unable to tell if this was reality or illusion, You Xue leaned into the warmth of that hand.

Her gaze fell on her own hands—pale, tender, small.

She watched the grayish-white hair sway before her eyes as she was petted.

She froze, then pinched her cheek.

It didn’t hurt.

In an instant, she understood.

You Xue looked at her mother’s concerned face, opened her mouth, but nothing came out.

“Mm.”

She replied softly.

“I had a nightmare.”

“Don’t be afraid. It was just a dream.”

Her mother didn’t ask what the dream was about.

Instead, she took You Xue’s wrist and spoke carefully, tentatively.

“Xiao You, the weather is nice today. Do you want to go out for a walk and get some sun?”

You Xue didn’t answer immediately.

She looked out the window again.

In the azure sky, flocks of birds passed by in formation.

Tall buildings blocked the view into the distance.

Scenes that were monotonous in her previous life, yet now she longed to see them so much.

You Xue nodded and said softly.

“Okay.”

You Xue stood up.

No dizziness, no pain.

It wasn’t difficult at all—completely unlike her previous life.

She walked out of the hospital’s inpatient building.

Not far away, there was a walking path.

On both sides of the path were planted French plane trees—thick trunks, lush branches and leaves, their crowns intertwined above the road.

Sunlight filtered through the gaps in the leaves, scattering patches of gold on the ground.

When the wind blew, those golden spots swayed with it.

Perhaps this was the effect of contrast.

In her previous life, she had been so impatient with scenes like this.

She didn’t like going out, always lying on her hospital bed, wasting away those long hours in the online world.

But in that other world, this kind of peaceful time was hard to come by.

Every minute, every second felt like it was stolen from between fate’s fingers.

“How nice.”

You Xue stopped walking and sighed.

“Xiao You, what are you thinking about?”

Her mother asked from beside her.

You Xue looked up.

Her mother’s face was so gentle and serene, yet so blurry.

She couldn’t recall her mother’s eyebrows or eyes, couldn’t remember the bridge of her nose, couldn’t trace the outline of her lips—only a vague memory of her warm smile.

Even so, she felt satisfied.

To see her mother again.

To see this world once more.

Even if it was just a dream, just an illusion, she thought it was good.

Really good.

“Mom, if I died, would you feel a little relieved?”

You Xue lowered her head and asked the question cautiously.

Though her mother’s face was somewhat blurry, You Xue could feel her expression change sharply—her eyes filled with worry and a hint of pain.

“You silly child, how can you say that?”

Her mother leaned closer.

“Hold out your hand.”

You Xue instinctively extended her palm.

With a soft smack, her mother lightly slapped her hand.

It didn’t hurt, but it made You Xue freeze completely.

“Nonsense.”

Her mother’s tone was a bit heavy, her voice gentle but carrying an edge.

“Don’t talk about dying or not dying. Don’t say things like that. It’s unlucky.”

“But…”

You Xue almost wished her mother would agree with what she said.

That would make her feel a little better—because she had already died.

In an accidental black night, she had quietly passed away, with no one by her side.

She wished her mother would say she felt relieved.

Then she could believe that after her death, her mother and big brother had been living a little better.

You Xue lowered her eyelids, like a cat that had done something wrong.

“You are my child. I gave birth to you. I love you. So I want you to be happy.”

Her mother stroked You Xue’s head again.

You Xue listened quietly, leaning into the warmth of that hand.

“Child, don’t dwell on whether you’re a burden to others. First think about yourself. Make yourself happy.”

“Mm.”

You Xue nodded lightly, but didn’t truly agree inside.

Because with an incurable illness, even if you were happy for a while, you’d still die in the end.

After death, would those happy days make the people left behind feel even worse?

But she didn’t argue.

She wanted to stay by her mother’s side a little longer.

She didn’t want to quarrel.

She just wanted to feel time slowly, gently slipping through her fingers like sand,

leaving behind only the lingering warmth of the sunlight.

“Xiao You.”

Hearing her mother’s call, You Xue looked up, a little puzzled.

“If you’re hurting, don’t keep it bottled up. Pain is pain. Don’t imagine that enduring it will make the suffering more meaningful.”

Her mother’s voice was soft, brushing past You Xue’s ear.

“You’ve always been the reassuring child since you were little.

Quiet, not one to make a fuss. You kept so much to yourself.

If you’re hurting, tell the people who care about you. The ones who truly care—they aren’t afraid of being troubled by you, aren’t afraid to worry about you.

Don’t be afraid of being disliked. To those who care, keeping silent is what’s truly dislikable.”

Her mother crouched down, her eyes level with You Xue’s.

“Do you understand what I’m saying?”

She asked gently.

The scattered sunlight was golden and warm, piercing through the gaps between leaves, filling the entire world before her eyes.

“I understand.”

Actually, she didn’t fully understand.

You Xue nodded dazedly.

She saw the world before her grow brighter, whiter and whiter, gradually losing its substance.

“Don’t go.”

You Xue stepped forward.

In this dream world, she wanted to grasp the illusion.

She opened her arms.

Her mother didn’t dodge.

Those blurry, gentle eyes looked at her, filled with a smile.

You Xue embraced her mother, embraced that cluster of fuzzy light.

The entire world turned into pure white.

Everything dissipated.

The white light swallowed everything.

She closed her eyes.

***

Sensation slowly returned to her body.

The feeling of pain once again surfaced.

You Xue opened her eyes.

Another white ceiling.

The fluorescent light was a little cold.

She had returned to this tragic world.

She felt a bit dizzy—everything in her vision was fragmented.

Colors pulled and tore at the center of her sight, their edges wavering.

To kill the giant serpent, she had recklessly used the Dragon’s Eye for so long despite the negative effects.

In the end, the Dragon’s Eye collapsed.

She lost her perception of color, and it caused her emotions to spiral completely out of control—she even attacked Su Li.

And now…

She tried closing her left eye.

Everything in her vision returned to normal.

She opened her left eye and closed her right.

The world before her turned gray and white, like looking through an old black-and-white TV.

Well, not amusing at all.

“Awake?”

The sudden voice interrupted You Xue’s exploration of her vision.

A little startled, she turned to look.

What she saw was a tired face, hair a mess, bloodshot eyes.

It was Su Li.

As soon as she woke up, she was confronted with the person she least wanted to see.

Facing the protagonist, who had been kept in the dark all along, You Xue really didn’t know what to say.

She wanted to apologize, but she also didn’t want to tell him the reason behind all this…

Caught in a tangle, she decided to first ask where she was.

“I…”

As soon as she spoke a single word, she realized her throat was painfully dry.

“Don’t talk yet.”

Su Li cut her off, turned around, and picked up a glass of water from the bedside table.

A faint wisp of steam still rose from the surface.

“I have a lot of questions I want to ask you, but there’s no rush.”

He brought the glass to You Xue’s lips.

You Xue took a careful sip to moisten her throat.

“Is there anything you want to eat?”

Still thinking about how to deal with Su Li’s inevitable questions, You Xue was completely caught off guard by this.

She answered instinctively.

“An… an apple.”

“Apple? You like apples that much?”

Su Li looked puzzled.

“What you need now is something to fill your stomach.”

“I… I just feel that at a time like this, eating an apple is the right thing to do.”

You Xue’s mind was a complete mess—too many things tangled together, unable to think straight.

Seeing You Xue’s dazed expression, Su Li assumed she was still groggy from just waking up.

“I’ll go get you some hot congee. If there are apples, I’ll bring you a few.”

With that, Su Li stood up and gently pushed the chair back into place.

You Xue watched him walk away.

She was glad he didn’t ask anything—otherwise, she really wouldn’t have known how to respond.

She lowered her head, her gaze dimming.

Because the answer was certain.

It was all bad things.