It suddenly came back to her—every time he drank too much, he’d get headaches. When she was little, she’d grown up with her grandfather in a small town and loved hanging around the elderly folks, listening to their gossip while giving them massages. Once, she’d done the same for him, and it must have felt good because he’d fallen asleep right in her arms.
Gu Xi still remembered that back then, she’d been a little afraid of him. She hadn’t dared move all night, just held him like that until morning. When he woke up, he asked why she hadn’t woken him. Perhaps her resentment over her aching body outweighed her fear of him, and she’d pinched him in frustration, saying how could she possibly disturb him when he was sleeping so soundly?
She’d regretted it immediately after, but to her surprise, he hadn’t been angry at all. Instead, he’d caught her hand, kissed it, and looked at her with a faint smile in his eyes.
Later, she’d often thought that he must have liked her at some point—but later, he’d truly come to hate her.
Pushing aside these thoughts, she turned the doorknob and went in. The room’s layout was familiar. She walked around the sofa with practiced ease toward the large bed in the inner room. The man lay sprawled on his back, one leg bent, his right forearm draped over his forehead.
A lamp on the nightstand cast a warm yellow glow across his pale profile, sharpening the lines of his nose. He seemed restless in his sleep—brow furrowed, occasionally turning his head as if enduring something.
Gu Xi knew his headache was acting up again.
She walked over, picked up the shattered glass on the floor, wiped up the water and fragments with tissue, then went back out to the living room and poured a fresh glass of water.
He wasn’t sleeping peacefully—up close, she could hear his somewhat labored breathing.
Gu Xi knelt by the bedside, gently cradled his neck, brought the glass to his lips, and whispered, “Drink.”
The water touched his thin lips, and he instinctively took a sip.
His Adam’s apple bobbed. A single drop of water traced a path from his pale chin down into the hollow of his neck.
After he finished, Gu Xi set the glass down and turned back. His thick lashes fluttered slightly, as if he were trying to open his eyes. Her heart skipped—without thinking, she covered his eyes with her hand, feeling a ticklish tingle against her palm.
Afraid he’d wake, she quickly turned the gesture into a gentle kneading massage. It must have soothed him because his furrowed brow gradually relaxed.
Looking down at his refined, handsome features, she felt a pang of frustration.
Gu Xi dreamed again.
His muscular, well-defined body pressed against her back, scorching hot. His heated breath brushed against her ear, sending waves of shivers through her.
Suddenly, a long-fingered hand reached out, gripped her chin, and turned her face toward him—meeting a pair of dark, brooding eyes. A cold, suppressed voice asked: “Do you see clearly who it is now?”
The face in the dream was blurred, but Gu Xi knew exactly who it was.
In the final year of her past life, she’d dreamed of him constantly.
After being reborn, she’d thought it would stop. She hadn’t expected to dream of him again.
Gu Xi told herself she wasn’t that desperate. It was just that he had too much control over her—even in death, he wouldn’t let her go.
Calming her heated emotions, she sat up in bed. Outside, the sky was still dark. The alarm clock on the nightstand read 4:30 AM.
She sat in a daze for a while, then got dressed and left the room.
At seven in the morning, Auntie Zhao laid out the breakfast on the dining table. The boss didn’t like Western food, so she’d made wontons and steamed buns.
The man came downstairs promptly at 7:10. He sat down but didn’t pick up his chopsticks right away. Instead, he casually asked, “Who came by last night?”
Auntie Zhao didn’t think much of it. “No one came—”
Then she remembered and added, “Actually, Miss Gu stopped by around six yesterday evening. I’m not sure when she left, though.”
The man gave a faint “Mm” in response.
That morning, he’d noticed a shattered glass in the trash and remembered someone keeping him company in his room for a long time last night.
Was it her? Bai Shulin frowned, a flicker of thought passing through his eyes.
Gu Xi went to school. Fang Pingping spotted her in the cafeteria—it was only six o’clock, and there were barely any people there. She bought a bowl of noodles and sat down across from her. “When did you get here? Why so early?”
Gu Xi glanced up. “Just got here not long ago.”
Fang Pingping nodded. She was a talker. She’d tried on the down coat Gu Xi gave her yesterday. “That coat wasn’t cheap, was it? It’s so warm—I can’t bear to take it off.”
“I won’t stand on ceremony with you then. I’ve never worn anything this nice my whole life. It looks brand new.”
“But I won’t take the meal card. There must be a lot of money on it. I’m afraid if I use it, I’ll get lazy and start daydreaming about free handouts. Better not—I’ll return it to you.”
She talked fast and nonstop; Gu Xi couldn’t get a word in. Just as she was about to say she didn’t need it back, Fang Pingping added, “A friend of mine who does part-time work invited me to be an extra. She said a production crew is shooting nearby and needs several people. She asked me to come this weekend—said it’s a big production, and maybe I’ll even end up on TV someday…”
Gu Xi’s hand holding the chopsticks paused. “An extra?”
“Yeah! Want to come? You’re so pretty—maybe the director will notice you and give you a small role.”
Fang Pingping was just saying it casually. In her mind, Gu Xi clearly wasn’t short on money, so she probably wouldn’t be doing odd jobs like she did.
To her surprise, the girl across from her paused for a moment, then readily agreed. “Sure.”
“…”
Fang Pingping stared at her in surprise, blinking, wondering if she’d misheard.
Gu Xi raised an eyebrow. “I’ve been feeling a bit bored lately. It might be nice to find something to do.”
“Alright.”
That explanation convinced Fang Pingping. She thought to herself that she really didn’t understand the lives of rich people—if she had money, she’d be lying in her dorm all day playing games and sleeping in.
In reality, Gu Xi wasn’t as wealthy as Fang Pingping imagined. Her biological father barely paid attention to her, and when he did call, it was always to ask about her relationship with Bai Yuzhou—he wanted her to latch onto the Bai family’s fortune. He gave her ten thousand yuan a month in allowance, but if he found out she and Bai Yuzhou had broken up, that money would probably stop.
She had another card too. Grandpa Bai was very fond of her and sent her spending money every month. And that man’s assistant also transferred money to her regularly. But she’d never touched any of it—she’d saved it all carefully.
Gu Xi did want to find something to do. In her past life, she’d revolved entirely around Bai Yuzhou. After graduating college, her only thought was marrying him as soon as possible. She’d had no plans, no goals—as if life had no meaning without marrying Bai Yuzhou.
She didn’t want to live like that anymore.
After a week of classes, Gu Xi moved back into the dormitory. She was majoring in education, but in previous years she hadn’t studied much—just enough to pass her finals.
Fang Pingping, on the other hand, was very diligent. She worked part-time while preparing for graduate school and had earned all the necessary certifications.
Influenced by her, Gu Xi picked up her books again and planned to get her teaching certificate next year.
Friday afternoon, she confirmed the time and place with Fang Pingping for their meeting the next day, then took the No. 3 bus.
Grandpa Bai lived in a retirement compound. Gu Xi had to register upon entry, but she visited often enough that the guards at the gate recognized her.
She only had two classes that afternoon and came over right after. It wasn’t far—about half an hour by cab.
Grandpa Bai had held a high rank before retirement. He lived in a detached house at the back, not as large as the one at Lan Garden, with a small courtyard out front that had been carefully tended into a little vegetable garden.
When Gu Xi arrived, Grandpa Bai was sitting in his wheelchair, picking vegetables—radishes and cabbages. Seeing her, he was overjoyed. “Xixi, come over! These are the radishes I grew. I’ll make you braised radish with pork tonight—I guarantee you’ll eat two bowls of rice!”
Gu Xi couldn’t help laughing. Auntie Lin, who was mopping inside, quickly put down the mop, brought her a pair of cotton slippers, and took the fruit from her hands. “I’ll go wash these.”
Seeing she’d bought cherries, Grandpa Bai couldn’t help saying, “I know these—they say they’re some kind of foreign ‘wheel fruit,’ and they’re ridiculously expensive. But aren’t they just big cherries?”
He was quite indignant that foreign goods sold for more than domestic ones.
Gu Xi laughed again. “Maybe they’re a different variety.”
Grandpa Bai dropped the subject and asked how she’d been doing lately. “Winter break is almost here—come stay with Grandpa for a couple of days then.”
Gu Xi said yes, sat down beside him, and helped pick vegetables. Auntie Lin soon finished washing the fruit and brought over a plate of cherries and loquats, explaining with a smile, “These were sent over by the Old Man’s comrade’s grandson—he specifically saved some for you.”
Warmth spread through Gu Xi’s chest. She picked up a loquat and took a bite—sweet and tart, delicious.
She chatted with Grandpa Bai for a while, then went inside to watch TV with him after they finished up. Dinner was five dishes and a soup. Auntie Lin was a great cook, and Gu Xi really did eat two bowls of rice, which delighted the old man so much that he had an extra half-bowl himself.
After the meal, Gu Xi flipped through photo albums with Grandpa Bai. There were five thick volumes, mostly photos from his time in the military, along with pictures of him and her grandfather.
Gu Xi had seen these photos in her past life but hadn’t paid them much attention. Now, flipping through them again, she felt a sense of nostalgia.
Her fingers paused on one page. A yellowed photograph caught her eye—a boy of about fourteen or fifteen standing in front of a school building. Tall and lean, dressed in a black jacket and blue pants, hands in his pockets. It looked like a candid shot—there was a lazy, slightly displeased expression on his face.
This was what he looked like as a teenager.
Seeing her gaze linger on the photo, Grandpa Bai couldn’t help huffing, “Look at that sloppy attitude—does that look like a student? Hair that long—clearly not one of the good ones.”
Gu Xi didn’t know what had happened between Grandpa Bai and that man, but as long as she could remember, they’d never gotten along. They could hardly exchange two sentences without arguing.
But she remembered that in her past life, when Grandpa Bai passed away, that man had knelt all night in the mourning hall—unlike Grandpa Bai’s so-called “good child,” Uncle Bai, who spent the time playing cards with his grandsons in another room.
Gu Xi casually said, “Grandpa, don’t say that. Boys like that were really popular in school.”
Grandpa Bai scoffed. “Popular? I’ve never seen him bring a single girl home. I suspect either he can’t perform, or he likes men.”
“…”
She hadn’t expected Grandpa Bai to have such an imagination.
Gu Xi pressed her lips together, feeling a little guilty, and turned the page. She couldn’t exactly explain that not only could he “perform,” but his appetites in that regard were particularly voracious.