But to his surprise, Lian Xia burst into tears!
He gathered the crying girl into his arms, quickly comforting her: "What's wrong? We were just talking..."
She pushed his approaching lips aside: "Don't be like that!"
"Like what?"
"You're too good. So good it scares me—"
Gu Xichen: "..."
He'd figured it out during this time—he couldn't leave Lian Xia, and she couldn't leave him either.
Forcing a separation might have catastrophic consequences, devastating for both of them. Rather than dragging things out and drinking poison to quench their thirst, it was better to lay everything out plainly.
"Xiaoxia, have you ever thought that maybe I'm not as good as you think?"
She seemed offended that he'd badmouth himself and pushed him again.
"No, you are good. You're the best Gu Xichen in the whole world."
"Actually, I'm sick."
The girl raised her tear-streaked face from his arms: "What?"
"What if I have a mental illness?"
He'd meant to explain that he was the ghost haunting this apartment, but on second thought, he substituted it with an explanation modern people might accept: "There's another personality inside me. Or you could understand it as a second personality."
"A second... personality?"
"Yes. My primary personality is Gu Xichen, and the secondary one is Chen Xi."
"Haven't you noticed? Sometimes I can be extremely rough and unreasonable, and sometimes I really love cilantro—that's Chen Xi's personality. But most of the time, I'm the Gu Xichen you know."
Her tears dried on her cheeks, and she looked contemplative.
"So, Xiaoxia, do you trust me?"
He'd done his best. Compared to a ghost-possession explanation that defied all reason, this supernatural-tinged version was at least somewhat more palatable... right?
The girl cupped his face and looked at him for a long time. "I trust you, because you've never lied to me."
Then she lobbed a killer question: "So the one dating me—is it Gu Xichen or Chen Xi?"
Gu Xichen's eyebrow twitched, and he threw the question right back: "Which one do you like better?"
She confessed, soft and earnest: "The one I like is Xichen."
The one who writes beautiful lines, who cooks delicious meals, who asks if she's scared when they're intimate.
"I like Xichen. I love Xichen. No matter who he is or where he is, I'll find him quickly."
Even if it means searching through a sea of faces.
Before she could finish, he'd pulled her tightly into his arms.
For a ghost with no known origin and no known destination, this weight of love became a guiding light—showing him the direction of life, telling him that no matter what, he must remember to come home.
Because among all the lights in the world, one window sheltered someone who loved him.
Chapter 28
The weather was fine. The two of them went to see the model apartment.
The place was small—less than sixty square meters after shared areas—and the finish was practically bare-bones. But with their combined savings, the down payment was just right.
The problem was, the house was being bought with Gu Xichen's money, so logically it should only have his name on the deed.
But Gu Xichen wanted to add Lian Xia's name too, for a sense of belonging. She was so touched she actually pulled out her bank card—this ordinary wage-earner had somehow saved a hundred thousand yuan over three years. One could only imagine how frugal she'd been!
Adding her name was possible, but since they had no direct family relationship, the paperwork was complicated.
So they arrived in high spirits and left disappointed.
They'd been so focused on the house that they'd forgotten a crucial step.
...
...
That afternoon, Gu Xichen snuck back to the old neighborhood to get Chen Xi's household registration booklet, only to be force-fed a bowl of cilantro soup by the grandmother.
"Drink up, drink up."
"Okay."
He suppressed a gag and took a sip. Nearly died on the spot.
The old woman propped her chin on her hand and beamed at him: "How are things with Xiaoxia lately?"
Gu Xichen wiped the cold sweat from his forehead and replied casually: "Good, very good. By the way, Grandma, where's the household registration booklet? I want to go register with Xiaoxia."
Compared to Chen Xi, he was too polite, too mindful of propriety. There was always an invisible yet palpable barrier between him and the old woman.
Sure enough, the grandmother looked less than pleased: "It's her? Deciding this fast?"
"Yeah."
"You're still young. At twenty-three you can already buy a house. If you waited a few more years, you wouldn't need to find a girl from the countryside..."
In the old woman's eyes, her grandson earning seven or eight hundred thousand a year, being a local—young women from all over the country would be lining up for him.
Gu Xichen set the bowl down firmly on the table: "Grandma, don't say things like that anymore."
"I only love Lian Xia. I'll spend the rest of my life with her."
"You're still young. I'm not against you dating, but marriage—"
"Lian Xia is an intellectual. She'll be a literature PhD someday—improving our family's genes. Look at me, a high school dropout tricking someone like that into marrying me. How is that not a great deal? You should be grateful."
The old woman smacked her lips without further objection.
Watching him grimace through the soup, she suddenly asked with conspiratorial curiosity: "At the wedding, will you invite your mother?"
Mother?
Chen Xi had a mother?
Gu Xichen's back went rigid: "Uh, no need, right? We'll just have a simple dinner."
He genuinely planned to keep the wedding small—just invite some colleagues they were close to and a few relatives from Lian Xia's hometown. Both were people of thin family ties; even ten tables would be hard to fill.
Once they were established in Shanghai, they could throw a grander celebration later.
"You really don't want to invite your mom? You used to always say, if you ever made something of yourself..."
Gu Xichen didn't want to continue this topic: "She'll like her. Lian Xia is a good girl."
But the old woman seemed to perk up. She dug out some photos from the inner room and showed him: "Look at your mom. I think she and Lian Xia actually look a bit alike!"
She shuffled into the back room and carefully laid out several yellowed photographs on the table.
The photos showed a group of schoolgirls, heads pressed together, smiling sweetly. He picked one up at random and commented: "Really? Where's the resemblance?"
The old woman's expression shifted.
Since Lian Xia had an exam interview at school, Gu Xichen grabbed the household registration and left in a hurry.
Watching his figure disappear, the old woman leaned against the entryway shoe cabinet, tears streaming down her face: "The child has grown up. He doesn't even recognize his own mother. No affection left."
She clutched another photograph, her words growing tangled and confused.
"...He's not Xixi anymore."
"He's not our Xixi anymore."