The urge to return grew stronger with every passing moment, yet her tenderness wrapped around him like a web, making it impossible to let go.
The girl dropped to her knees before that dark, human-shaped mass. A person who'd always been strong suddenly begging—far more heartbreaking than ordinary grief: "Please don't go, okay? I can't live without you, Xichen!"
"Wait—the incense! Let me offer more incense for you, you'll definitely feel better!"
As if suddenly remembering, she scrambled up, grabbed a fistful of incense sticks from her stock, and lit them all at once.
In her haste, she nearly burned herself.
Gu Xichen watched her fall into a kind of manic frenzy, his voice heavy with sorrow and guilt: "It's my fault. I was greedy for your tenderness. If I hadn't selfishly entered your life..."
She seemed to read his pain, asking carefully: "Xichen, are you in agony right now?"
"Yes."
Every second, every moment, his exposed spirit body was pierced by bone-chilling winds. He endured the searing pain as if scorched by sunlight. He resisted the massive, irresistible pull from the depths of the void...
"I understand, Xichen. If you're too tired, then go... I'll take good care of myself."
Though tears still welled in her eyes, she smiled—a light, free smile.
Gu Xichen wasn't sure he could simply walk away.
The girl explained gently: "I wasn't trying to kill myself when I climbed the balcony... I just wanted to see the view below."
"Never mind, you wouldn't believe me anyway. You were pretty fierce when you pushed me, you know."
She became scattered and rambling. The man watched her, etching her thin silhouette into his memory while driving the last of his energy to solidify his form from its dissipating state.
Lian Xia looked at the tall, elegant young man before her and suddenly covered her face in shy embarrassment.
"You're really handsome."
"I never even dreamed I'd be in a relationship with someone this good-looking."
Though it was brief, having known and loved someone this wonderful was already a gift from heaven—enough for someone as unremarkable as her to cherish for a lifetime.
She wasn't greedy, just a little reluctant to say goodbye.
"But, your dark circles are so big. Can you make them smaller?"
Gu Xichen: ...
He channeled more energy: "How about this?"
His face twisted into a wavy distortion, looking utterly terrifying. She quickly stopped him: "Don't, that's even scarier..."
They fell silent. She seemed to sink back into that shy, fluttering feeling.
"Before you go, give me one last kiss, okay?"
"Okay."
They slowly leaned in. Her hands clasped tightly with nervous anticipation, but he suddenly interrupted: "Wait, there's a space heater at home. Bring it over."
Though she didn't understand, Lian Xia did as he asked, dragging the heater to the living room and setting it to the highest temperature as Gu Xichen instructed, placing it between them.
As if that weren't enough, he added: "Don't get too close to me, or you'll get a fever like last time."
How bittersweet—afraid she'd catch cold, so he said goodbye through a space heater...
The girl froze, staring at his blurry silhouette bathed in moonlight: "So last year, on July 14th, it wasn't my dad who came. It was you, wasn't it?"
"Yes."
"And the one who took care of me afterwards, who wiped me down... that was also you?"
"It was."
Her expression was both sorrowful and relieved: "So he's gone, and now you're leaving too."
Gu Xichen had no words.
No pallid language could explain the cruelty of withdrawing from Lian Xia's deep love.
"Alright then, just give me one kiss, and then you can go."
Across the scorching space heater, she leaned forward carefully and gently brushed her lips against his cold face.
Then she even smiled: "Like jelly."
"I'm going then?"
"Mm."
Silence fell between them once more.
Gu Xichen gazed at her deeply, then his figure began to blur, like something dissolving in water.
"Wait, will I ever see you again?"
"I don't know." The man's hand, hidden in darkness, reached toward her—but dissolved fragment by fragment before it could touch hers.
"But if we do meet again... promise me you'll come find me."
Chapter 39
Lian Xia opened her eyes to a world of white.
She only remembered curling up on the floor and falling asleep—how did she wake up in a bed?
And looking around—white tiles, white walls, an IV line attached to her arm, single beds lined up side by side...
Was this... a hospital?
She was about to get out of bed when an old man shuffled through the door and quickly stopped her: "Hey! Don't just get out of bed!"
Wait—wasn't this the landlord grandpa from the rental house?
Seeing her silently shrink back onto the bed, the old man stood a respectful distance away, maintaining his dignified composure, though his voice betrayed his relief: "When I went in, you were lying in the middle of the floor. If something had happened, that place really would've become a haunted house!"
"If I hadn't come by to bring the supplementary contract..."
Wait, what contract? What did he mean?
The old man waved his hand and unloaded a gray cloth bag from his shoulder: "It's the supplementary contract. The first month's promotional rent was 450, but from now on it's 4500 per month."
Lian Xia watched him pull out a stack of A4 papers: "Take a look, and sign if everything's fine."
No, no, no—something was very wrong here.
Instead of responding to that, she asked: "Grandpa, what's the date today?"
His brow furrowed as if he suspected she wasn't fully recovered, and might need another chat with the doctor.
"It's 2019. April 22nd."
Lian Xia's heart skipped. She opened her phone—the display indeed read April 22, 2019.
How could that be...
She clearly remembered May 21, 2021—the day she and that man got their marriage certificate.
But now it wasn't 2021. It was 2019.
Could it be... she'd traveled through time?
She pinched her thin arm hard with two fingers. A shriek rang out, waking the sleeping patient next door.
The supplementary contract was out of the question—she didn't have that kind of money anyway.
That afternoon, Lian Xia briskly completed her blood tests and discharged herself.
Returning to the rental house, everything looked exactly as it had when she first came to the city to make her way. Dreams and reality intertwined, tangled and hard to distinguish.
Perhaps hearing her footsteps, the door across the hall opened, and a middle-aged woman with permed curls poked her head out. Seeing Lian Xia standing in the corridor, she struck up a conversation with practiced familiarity: "Young girl, you eat the most and wake up the fastest!"
Lian Xia: "?"
"I just got back from the hospital too. My husband said after I ate that mushroom soup, I was singing and dancing at home—it was terrifying!"
Seeing Lian Xia wasn't picking up the thread, the woman kept blinking at her: "We all ate that mushroom, you know, that mushroom."
She even opened her short video app. Exaggerated voiceovers, giant headlines quickly revealed the whole story.
"Young girl who ate 'mushroom' falls to her death..."
"Shanghai's central district discovers 'magic mushroom'—ten victims..."
"Caution! 'It' has strong hallucinogenic effects..."
Good lord, it was the number one trending topic on local apps.
"Recently, Shanghai police arrested a suspect surnamed Lin on suspicion of intentional homicide. According to preliminary investigation, Lin, who runs a vegetable stall at the central market, harbored resentment toward her husband over domestic disputes and distributed 'magic mushrooms' obtained through illegal channels to customers..."
Reality was more bizarre than fiction. She could barely process it.
Entering her rental, the remnants of noodle soup still sat on the table, alongside two small fallen pastries.
Had everything really been just a dream?
No ghosts, no lover—she'd experienced a long, ethereal dream, nearly living an entire lifetime within it.
And the reality after waking up was all too cruel.
Just as her nose began to sting, a knock came at the door left slightly ajar. Through the gap, a pair of familiar, glinting, narrow eyes appeared.
Lian Xia blurted out: "Chen Xi?"
Those eyes widened in surprise: "Oh, you still remember me?"
"Yeah, I remember."
On the table still sat the bronze-rusted censer, with a slip of paper tucked underneath.
She picked it up and unfolded it. Written clearly on it were the characters "Chen Xi," followed by a string of phone numbers.
Now reality had its corresponding evidence too—no wonder this irrelevant young man had appeared in her hallucination—or dream.
Chen Xi pushed the door open and gestured at a pile of delivery wooden slats behind him: "I just remembered to bring you some more, and then I heard something happened around here."
Then he casually inquired about her health.
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine now. Thank you."
Seeing her reserved demeanor, he didn't overstay, gave an awkward laugh, and prepared to leave.
"Oh, by the way, go back and check on your grandmother."
"Huh?"