Dawn was just breaking.
Gu Xi opened her eyes and lay still for a moment. Her blurry vision gradually sharpened. Shifting her gaze, she noticed several cracks in the ceiling above her, and on the wall beside her were two faded, curling posters—faintly recalling that they were of a singer Bai Yuzhou had once liked.
She could no longer remember the singer’s name. Too much time had passed, and many things had become unimportant.
Gu Xi had been reborn two days ago. She had died in a psychiatric hospital, taken by a flu. The caregiver had called Bai Yuzhou, and she’d heard him say in an impatient tone over the phone to give her more medication and not to bother him if there was nothing important. In truth, she really hadn’t sought him out on her own anymore—it was the caregiver who had other motives, always using her name to call him.
Toward Bai Yuzhou, she could no longer stir up even a ripple of emotion. She only hated that she hadn’t seen reality sooner. Dying was fine, really. But unexpectedly, when she opened her eyes again, she had returned to ten years ago.
Everything could still be changed.
Fang Pingping crept down from her bed—she slept on the lower bunk beneath Gu Xi. It was Sunday, and the other two roommates weren’t there.
Their dorm had originally housed six people, but two had moved out. Now that they were seniors, the counselor wasn’t strict, and the other two often went out on dates with their boyfriends.
Gu Xi hadn’t come back before either. From freshman year until now, the number of times she’d shown up in the dorm could be counted on two hands. This time, it was because she’d gotten drunk on Friday night and sat crying by the roadside, and Fang Pingping had seen her and brought her back.
She’d had a fever as soon as she returned. Fang Pingping was worried and hadn’t gone out to her part-time job for the past two days.
Fang Pingping tiptoed over to get her washbasin, thinking she was being very quiet. But when she turned around, she saw that Gu Xi on the upper bunk had already opened her eyes.
Gu Xi was very beautiful. Fang Pingping still remembered the stunning impression she’d made when they first met in the dorm at the start of freshman year. She’d been wearing a pale yellow dress, her skin glowing white, legs long and straight, and on her palm-sized face, her features were as delicate as a porcelain doll—even her hair seemed to shimmer. Her figure was perfect too, with all the right curves. The new roommates and their parents in the dorm couldn’t help but sneak glances at her.
But she’d seemed somewhat unhappy back then, carrying a hint of petulance and impatience, so no one dared to approach her.
Fang Pingping gave an awkward little smile and whispered, “You’re awake?”
The two hadn’t spent much time together, so they still weren’t very familiar.
Hearing the voice, Gu Xi turned her head to look at her. Her amber eyes rippled slightly, her long lashes fluttering, casting a faint shadow on her fair cheeks. She propped herself up on her arms and sat up, her chestnut-brown long hair cascading down softly. Fang Pingping was once again struck by her beauty—same just-woke-up state, yet her own face was oily and dull, while the other looked fair and delicate as a fairy.
She’d heard gossip that Gu Xi’s boyfriend of many years had gotten together with someone else. If that was true, that person must be truly blind.
Gu Xi gave a soft “mm” in response. Looking at her roommate before her, a pang of sourness welled up in her heart.
In her past life, she hadn’t had many friends, but Fang Pingping counted as one. The two had actually grown close after graduation, when Gu Xi saw Fang Pingping’s post about being unemployed on social media and arranged for her to join Bai Yuzhou’s company. But within a few years, she’d left. Before she went, Fang Pingping had advised her not to be so fixated on Bai Yuzhou. In truth, Gu Xi’s resolve had already begun to waver by then, but later on, some things were no longer within her control.
She also deeply regretted not noticing Fang Pingping’s reluctance at the time. If she’d tried to persuade her, maybe Fang Pingping wouldn’t have gone back to her hometown to get married. Her parents hadn’t been good to her—they’d pushed her into marriage just to get a high bride price for her younger brother’s wedding.
Within two years of marriage, she’d divorced and taken her daughter with her. Rumor had it the child had epilepsy, and the husband’s family had concealed their medical history.
Seeing that Gu Xi’s complexion wasn’t as pale as the day before, Fang Pingping let out a breath of relief. She turned and pulled open the curtains. “Are you still feeling unwell? Should we go to the clinic for another check?”
That night, her fever had spiked to 40 degrees. Fang Pingping had been so frightened that she’d barely thrown on her clothes before carrying Gu Xi on her back to the clinic. Thankfully, there was a doctor on duty, and she got an IV drip.
But she hadn’t recovered immediately. Yesterday, the fever kept coming and going, and she’d been delirious, muttering nonsense. Fang Pingping had been worried she might burn her brain out.
“No need, I’m much better now.”
Gu Xi shook her head from behind.
Friday had been her birthday. In her past life, Bai Yuzhou had promised to celebrate with her, but he’d been called away by a phone call shortly after arriving. He’d said he’d be back soon before he left, but she’d waited a long time and never saw him again.
He was always like this—breaking his promises time and again, always explaining that they were just ordinary friends.
Fang Pingping picked up her toothbrush from the cabinet beside her. “So what do you want for breakfast? I’ll bring you something.”
Gu Xi frowned slightly. She didn’t know what the school cafeteria had. After a moment’s thought, she said, “Just bring me a steamed bun and a cup of soy milk.”
That’s what she’d eaten in the psychiatric hospital. She hadn’t been used to it at first, but gradually she’d adapted.
Fang Pingping said okay, washed her face, and headed out. Early winter mornings were bitterly cold. Most of the time, Fang Pingping was the only one living in the dorm—she couldn’t bear to spend money on the air conditioning.
Gu Xi wrapped herself in her clothes and climbed down from the upper bunk. There were no clothes of hers in the dorm; she was wearing a padded jacket Fang Pingping had lent her. She walked over to the mirror by the door, and a healthy, beautiful young girl appeared before her.
Looking at her younger self, her nose stung with emotion. She’d spent three years in that psychiatric hospital—from initial resentment and bitterness, to later regret and clarity. But she’d been powerless to do anything. That man had left all his property to her; they would never let her out.
Countless times, she’d thought: if only she could start over. She wouldn’t chase after Bai Yuzhou anymore.
Fang Pingping returned shortly, bringing steamed buns and soy milk, along with pan-fried dumplings and plain congee.
Gu Xi didn’t have much of an appetite, but she still finished everything. Fang Pingping stood up to clear the table. “I’m heading to the library later. Do you want to come?”
Gu Xi shook her head. “I have somewhere to be.”
Fang Pingping didn’t press further.
Gu Xi did have somewhere to be—and it was very important.
Before her mother passed away, she had given Gu Xi a jade pendant. Gu Xi had given it to Bai Yuzhou on his eleventh birthday. That was right after he’d first arrived at the Bai household, when he was still awkward and ill at ease everywhere. She’d seen in him a reflection of herself, sent to live with her father, and she’d hoped her mother’s blessings would keep him safe. In her past life, that jade pendant had ended up around Song Rumeng’s neck.
She needed to get it back.
The engagement between her and Bai Yuzhou was really just a verbal agreement between their elders. Her grandfather and Grandpa Bai had been comrades-in-arms, and they’d once promised to join their families through marriage. But her grandfather had later been injured and returned to his hometown, and their paths had diverged completely, so no one had taken it seriously afterward.
Gu Xi’s mother was several years older than Grandpa Bai’s son. While in college, she’d fallen in love with a poor young man—a very cliché story. Her grandfather had swallowed his pride and called on his old connections to help the young man get ahead. Eventually, the man found success and had an affair. Her mother had a stubborn nature and did many crazy things. In the end, her grandfather took her mother and Gu Xi back to their hometown.
Her mother passed away within a few years. Her grandfather followed two years later, and Gu Xi was sent to live with her biological father. Before he died, her grandfather had proactively reached out to his old comrade, hoping he’d look after her.
That comrade was Grandpa Bai. Grandpa Bai still remembered the promise they’d made in their youth. He urged his son to hurry up and get married and have children, but that man refused. One day, however, he brought home a boy from outside—that boy was Bai Yuzhou.
She still remembered: at seven years old, Grandpa Bai had taken her hand and led her to Bai Yuzhou, kindly telling her that when she grew up, she would marry him, and that this older brother would cherish and love her.
And Bai Yuzhou had obediently taken her hand, saying he would take care of her for the rest of his life.
Gu Xi had believed him. She’d thought she would be different from her mother—but in the end, she’d lost even more miserably.
She’d thought it through clearly over the past two days. Living again, she didn’t just hate Bai Yuzhou and Song Rumeng—she hated her past self even more.
She wouldn’t chase after Bai Yuzhou anymore. Now, she only wanted to get her mother’s jade pendant back and stay far away from him.
Bai Yuzhou’s phone wasn’t picking up, so Gu Xi took a taxi straight to his company.
Ten years ago, City C was already quite prosperous. Gu Xi gazed longingly at the skyscrapers outside the window—sights she couldn’t see from the psychiatric hospital. Bai Yuzhou had sent her to a facility up in the mountains, where she had to take medication every day. As time went on, her memory grew worse and worse, and she was always having all sorts of dreams. Sometimes she couldn’t even tell reality apart from her dreams.
The taxi stopped at the entrance of Zhongtian Building. Bai Yuzhou’s company occupied the first through fourth floors. That man owned many businesses; this was just one of them, a small company meant for Bai Yuzhou to cut his teeth on.
Gu Xi bought a cup of milk tea downstairs. In her past life, she rarely drank these things, but now she felt a sense of nostalgia. The warm tea warmed her cold hands a little.
The receptionist knew her. The girl immediately flashed her signature smile. “Miss Gu.”
She then dialed Bai Yuzhou’s secretary. “Secretary Lin, Miss Gu is here.”
Secretary Lin must have said something, because the girl hung up and said apologetically, “Miss Gu, Young Master Bai hasn’t arrived yet.”
Gu Xi wasn’t surprised to hear that. She lifted her wrist to check her watch—it read 8:10. “Then I’ll go upstairs and wait for him.”
The girl hurriedly said, “There’s a meeting upstairs.”
Gu Xi looked at her silently. A flicker of awkwardness crossed the girl’s smile.
Not wanting to make things difficult, Gu Xi said, “Then I’ll wait here.”
She walked over to a nearby sofa and sat down. The receptionist, probably feeling a bit embarrassed, brought over some hot tea and snacks from the break room and quietly reminded her, “Miss Gu, Young Master Bai hasn’t been here the past two days.”
She’d been at the company for six months and had heard some gossip. She felt a bit of sympathy for this beautiful Miss Gu.
Gu Xi nodded slightly with a soft “Mm.”
She’d noticed it in her past life too—that after growing up, Bai Yuzhou seemed to deliberately keep his distance from her. She just hadn’t been willing to admit it back then, making excuses for him that he was too busy.
She didn’t know where else to find him, so she could only wait here.
An hour passed. Just as Gu Xi was debating whether to leave, the sound of a car came from outside.
The receptionist saw the long motorcade outside and froze for a moment. She was about to make a call when the supervisors from upstairs came rushing out of the elevators in a panic—including Secretary Lin, who was supposedly still in a meeting.
“Chairman Bai, what brings you here?”
The man at the front was surrounded by people as he strode in. He was dressed in a black suit, the fabric giving off a faint sheen. Tall and straight-backed, he walked unhurriedly toward the elevator with an air of composure.
In response to Secretary Lin and the others, he merely gave them a brief glance without slowing his pace. His handsome, straight nose was framed by a pair of gold-rimmed glasses, and his expression was distant and aloof.
Gu Xi sat in the corner holding her milk tea. The man who’d stepped into the elevator turned around, and their eyes met by chance. She froze for a moment, not expecting to see him here. The blurry face in her memory gradually grew clear.
Then she realized that staring at him so blatantly was probably a bit rude. Just before the elevator doors closed, she averted her eyes first.
But suddenly, a flood of chaotic, jumbled images rushed into her mind, and it seemed she could even hear his ragged, heavy breathing in her ear…
Her heart tightened. That was the most absurd thing she’d ever done in her previous life.