“Gurgle… gurgle…”
Endless darkness, accompanied by the roar of seawater, seemed ready to swallow Xia Zhiwan’s entire soul.
An intense suffocating sensation surged like a tide. It was as if a tremendous pressure had her tightly bound, making every breath unbearably difficult.
So this was it—after death, the pain could still be felt so clearly.
Then what about Li Xiaohan?
Where was he now?
In the darkness, Xia Zhiwan stretched out her hands blindly, trying to grasp at something.
Suddenly, that overwhelming suffocation vanished in an instant, as if it had been stripped away by some mysterious force.
“Li Xiaohan!”
Her voice echoed through the empty room as Xia Zhiwan snapped her eyes open.
Hadn’t her throat already been corroded by sulfuric acid, leaving her unable to make a sound ever again?
Then how could she now clearly call out the man’s name?
In panic, she threw off the blanket and reached down to touch her legs—legs that, after being broken for far too long, should have had no sensation at all.
Yet beneath the pajama fabric, the feeling of her legs was astonishingly real.
She cried with joy. Her legs were still there, and she could still speak.
Could it be that after death, everything from one’s past life was reset, and one was reincarnated all over again?
Blinding sunlight fell across her face. The warmth felt so unreal.
Someone like her couldn’t possibly become an angel, could they?
Then why was she seeing such bright, dazzling light?
And why did the environment after death look so similar to the one she had lived in before?
The place she was in now was clearly a room inside the Li family estate—the one she had lived in after marrying Li Xiaohan.
Thinking of Li Xiaohan, thinking of all the words she never had the chance to say before dying, Xia Zhiwan hurriedly got out of bed to look for him.
She didn’t know where his soul might be now—or whether he no longer wished to see her.
It was like the sensation of getting out of bed after lying down for days, just taking one’s first steps.
She forced herself to open the door, but accidentally stumbled and fell straight outside.
“Hiss—” She twisted her ankle and sucked in a sharp breath of pain.
“How unlucky. Even as a ghost, I’m still this unlucky,” she complained as she tried to get up—then suddenly froze.
Do ghosts feel pain?
“Miss Xia, you’re awake? How did you fall here? Quick, let me help you up.”
Aunt Wang rushed upstairs after hearing the noise and saw Xia Zhiwan lying stiffly on the floor.
“Miss Xia, you’re finally awake. The sir will be so happy when he knows.”
Aunt Wang helped Xia Zhiwan back to the bed, but Xia Zhiwan’s expression remained dazed.
“Aunt Wang… you can see me?”
“Miss Xia, are you feeling unwell? How could I not see you?”
Aunt Wang looked flustered, her face full of worry as she stared at Xia Zhiwan, who seemed to be speaking nonsense.
Aunt Wang was the one in the villa who specifically took care of Xia Zhiwan—and in her previous life, she had often tried to bring Xia Zhiwan and Li Xiaohan closer together.
Xia Zhiwan suspected that her brain must have been flooded when she fell into the sea.
Otherwise, how could her spirit be seen by the living?
Or could it be… that Aunt Wang was dead too…?
But how could Aunt Wang have died?
She shook her head hard, then pinched her own thigh. The sharp pain made her thoughts clear again.
“Aunt Wang.” Every drop of blood in Xia Zhiwan’s body seemed to boil as she stammered out her question.
“How long… have I been here?”
“Miss Xia, ever since you came here, I’ve been the one taking care of you. You’ve been married to sir for over half a year now.”
Her heart raced wildly. Unable to believe it, Xia Zhiwan carefully looked around.
The empty room contained only a bed—nothing else.
All four corners of the bed were padded, and the floor was completely covered with thick sponges.
This room was exactly the “cage” Li Xiaohan had specially prepared for her after her repeated suicide attempts.
She had really returned to the time when they hadn’t even been married for a year.
Back to a time when everything could still be salvaged.
Her legs went weak, and she sank onto the bed. Her face showed the panic and joy of someone reborn.
“Miss, are you all right? Why do you look so pale?” Aunt Wang asked anxiously.
With a clatter, the sound of something falling to the floor snapped Xia Zhiwan out of her daze.
Li Xiaohan stood at the doorway, the items in his hand scattered all over the floor.
His eyes were bloodshot as he looked at the woman sitting quietly on the edge of the bed.
She had finally woken up.
“Sir, Miss Xia is too weak. I’ll go prepare some chicken soup to help her recover,” Aunt Wang said.
The man didn’t respond. He simply continued to stare at the woman by the bed, while inside him a storm raged.
Aunt Wang withdrew after speaking, leaving only silence on the second floor.
Seeing Li Xiaohan again felt unreal to Xia Zhiwan.
Had heaven truly given her a chance to make amends?
She wanted to say she was wrong—that only after learning the truth did she realize how terribly wrong she had been.
She wanted to say she loved him—that she had fallen in love with him long ago, without even realizing when it happened.
She wanted to say that she had believed words she never should have believed, and because of fabricated reasons, had suppressed her true feelings again and again.
There was so much more she wanted to say…
But before she could speak, her eyes were already filled with tears.
Looking at the man standing motionless outside the room, she limped toward the doorway.
Li Xiaohan watched her movements, his heart aching unbearably.
But—
Thinking she was, as always, about to shut the door on him, his eyes held not only pain, but also the deep loneliness he struggled to suppress.
She was always like this…
Unwilling to even let him look at her.