46

Yu Mingjiao opened her eyes and habitually reached out to touch the space beside her.

Empty.

She stared blankly with lifeless eyes for a long time.

Was last night just another one of her hallucinations?

She had seen Cen Lingqiu return to her side, had even held her and kissed her.

It had been the happiest hallucination she had experienced in the past five years.

Yu Mingjiao had grown used to Cen Lingqiu's absences. She always appeared briefly, stayed for a short while, and then silently disappeared again.

Yu Mingjiao could only wait helplessly for the next hallucination.

She moved to sit up, her long black hair cascading down as she leaned against the headboard. Her eyes, half-closed, gave off a hollow and lifeless aura.

The room remained shrouded in darkness, with only a sliver of light filtering in through the swaying curtains. Yu Mingjiao sat in that gloom, surrounded by silence. She reached up and rubbed her ear, hearing a faint buzzing sound. Slowly, she pulled herself into her wheelchair, her movements mechanical and drained of energy.

It felt like she had been dreaming about Cen Lingqiu more and more often lately.

Each time, Cen Lingqiu would appear, then disappear again, over and over—almost enough to drive her mad. Hallucinations were fragile; they shattered easily, leaving behind nothing but emptiness.

She missed Cen Lingqiu.

She missed her so much.

She longed to hold the real, warm Cen Lingqiu in her arms again.

She didn't want to wait anymore.

Yu Mingjiao lingered on the memory of last night's dream, but now, faced with the cold reality, the suffocating darkness seemed to close in on her once again.

She covered her face and began to cry quietly, her soft sobs breaking the stillness.

She couldn't bear to wait any longer.

She had grown tired of waiting, with no hope of Cen Lingqiu's return.

The thought of death crossed her mind.

"I want to die."

Her eyes were hollow, like still, dead water.

Yu Mingjiao, moving slowly, wheeled herself into the living room. The familiar emptiness greeted her, the stark absence of Cen Lingqiu casting an even colder shadow over her surroundings.

She hadn't come back.

Yesterday had been just another illusion.

Her gaze lowered as she took a sip of water, her mind elsewhere.

Suddenly, the sound of the front door opening filled the air.

Cen Lingqiu appeared, one hand holding grocery bags while the other casually kicked off her shoes at the entrance.

Seeing Yu Mingjiao, Cen Lingqiu smiled. "You're awake, Jiao Jiao."

Yu Mingjiao's hand froze, the cup slipping from her grasp and clattering to the floor. She stared at Cen Lingqiu, her expression blank and disbelieving.

"Why are you just standing there?" Cen Lingqiu asked, putting the food into the fridge. "What do you feel like eating? I'll cook something for you."

The only response was silence.

Cen Lingqiu frowned slightly, glancing at Yu Mingjiao again. Her figure remained completely still, rooted to the spot, her face devoid of any emotion.

Cen Lingqiu walked over and waved a hand in front of her face. "Jiao Jiao? Still half asleep?"

The glass fell from Yu Mingjiao's hand, hitting the floor with a loud thud. She reached out and grabbed Cen Lingqiu's hand, her grip tight and trembling. Her voice, barely above a whisper, quivered with uncertainty.

"Are you... really Cen Lingqiu?"

"Is this the real Cen Lingqiu?"

Cen Lingqiu smiled softly and placed Yu Mingjiao's hand against her face. "Yes, Jiao Jiao. I'm real."

"I'm your Lingqiu Jie. Didn't I promise you that I would come back? I wasn't lying."

Yu Mingjiao's hand moved across Cen Lingqiu's face—her eyebrows, eyes, nose, lips—again and again, as if trying to confirm something.

"This can't be real..."

Her voice trembled as she repeated in disbelief, "She wouldn't come back."

"This must be a dream."

Yu Mingjiao muttered to herself, "I'm dreaming again. She won't come back."

Cen Lingqiu gently held her hand and pressed it to her chest. "Jiao Jiao, feel my heartbeat. How could a dead person have a heartbeat?"

But Yu Mingjiao wasn't listening. Her mind had built a barrier against hope, her thoughts frozen in that dark place where she had been abandoned for so long. She had convinced herself that Cen Lingqiu would never return.

"She won't come back."

Yu Mingjiao kept repeating it, her head resting against Cen Lingqiu's chest as she gritted her teeth.

"She's a liar, a horrible woman, she's always lied to me!"

Cen Lingqiu had no words to offer. Her heart felt like it was being squeezed in a vice as Yu Mingjiao's tears soaked her chest, burning her like molten lava.

What should she do?

She had fought so hard to come back to this world, thinking she would find the bright, lively girl she once knew. But now, she was faced with a broken and shattered soul, a shell of the person she had cherished.

The girl she loved, who she had always indulged and protected, had withered beyond recognition in these five years.

Pale, emaciated, constantly shedding tears, with eyes that were always red and swollen.

Cen Lingqiu wanted to take care of her, to help her heal. But she knew the cruel truth—she only had two months left with this fragile body.

What could be more hopeless than this?

Cen Lingqiu had never felt such despair in her life.

—

Yu Mingjiao's hallucinations grew worse over the following days, despite Cen Lingqiu's constant presence. She still didn't believe that Cen Lingqiu was real, thinking she was just another illusion.

Every day, Yu Mingjiao was filled with growing anxiety and fear. Her sense of reality seemed to unravel further, leaving her in a constant state of panic.

Once, as she sat out on the balcony, Cen Lingqiu asked her what she was looking at.

"She's calling me," Yu Mingjiao replied in a detached voice.

"Who?"

"I can hear Lingqiu Jie calling me, telling me to go with her."

"She says she's lonely."

Cen Lingqiu would gently respond, "No one's calling you, Jiao Jiao."

"I'm right here, look at me."

But Yu Mingjiao's eyes remained blank, her gaze distant.

Her condition worsened. Yu Mingjiao's unstable emotions made her fearful of losing Cen Lingqiu again, even if she believed it was just a dream. She would often clutch onto Cen Lingqiu, her fragile fingers grasping as if she feared she might disappear any second.

"Lingqiu Jie, are you leaving again?" she asked one day, her voice quiet and hesitant.

Cen Lingqiu froze. "Why would you think that?"

"You've been with me for so long… it feels like you're going to leave soon."

Cen Lingqiu smiled, though her heart clenched with dread. "Jiao Jiao, don't worry about that."

But Yu Mingjiao ignored her, her voice taking on an eerie, hopeful tone. "It's okay, Lingqiu Jie."

She leaned closer, her cheek brushing against Cen Lingqiu's. "You're taking me home, right? That's why you're here. I'll go with you."

Her words made Cen Lingqiu shiver. She didn't fully grasp the meaning at first.

It wasn't until one evening, after Yu Mingjiao had been in the bathroom for too long, that Cen Lingqiu pushed open the door to check on her.

Yu Mingjiao had sunk into the bathtub, her long hair floating on the water's surface as only her face peeked above the water.

Cen Lingqiu's heart stopped. She rushed forward and pulled her out. Thankfully, Yu Mingjiao hadn't been under for long. She coughed violently as she collapsed against the side of the tub.

For the first time, Cen Lingqiu raised her hand and slapped her—gently, with the back of her hand, more like a brush of skin than a true hit.

Even so, she immediately regretted it. Her hand trembled.

Yu Mingjiao, her face pale and streaked with tears, barely reacted to the slap. She turned her head to the side, her gaze empty, her expression numb.

Cen Lingqiu sank down beside her, pulling her cold body into her arms. Her whole body trembled with silent emotion.

The weight of it all crushed her, making her feel like she was drowning. She hugged Yu Mingjiao tighter.

Only now did she fully understand the meaning behind Yu Mingjiao's words.

Yu Mingjiao had waited for her so long that she had given up hope. She believed that Cen Lingqiu was nothing more than a hallucination—that she had died and would never return.

She wanted to die. She wanted to escape from the pain of waiting.

Her reappearance only made Yu Mingjiao more anxious and uncertain, driving her deeper into despair.

Yu Mingjiao had been broken, beyond repair, and Cen Lingqiu had been the one who caused it.

This night, they slept side by side again, as they had been for the past few days. The weather was growing warmer, so Cen Lingqiu wore a light, thin sleepwear.

Yu Mingjiao's cheek still bore the faint red mark from earlier. Though Cen Lingqiu had barely touched her, Yu Mingjiao's delicate skin bruised easily.

Cen Lingqiu carefully applied an ice pack to her cheek while Yu Mingjiao lay quietly in her lap, her eyes closed.

Afterward, Cen Lingqiu adjusted the air conditioner, making sure it was set just right. Yu Mingjiao had a habit of kicking off the blankets at night, and if the temperature was too low, she might catch a cold.

Lately, Cen Lingqiu had found herself feeling unusually cold. She suspected it was because her body was deteriorating. Even lukewarm bathwater would make her shiver, and no matter how much medicine she took, she couldn't seem to shake the constant colds that plagued her.

As they settled into bed, Yu Mingjiao reached out instinctively, her fingers searching for Cen Lingqiu. Her movements were slow and a bit clumsy as she groped blindly.

Cen Lingqiu watched silently, letting her touch her.

Yu Mingjiao's hand landed on her neck, where it froze.

The rough texture of the long scar caught her attention. Cen Lingqiu had been careful to hide it with a necklace, worried that the sight of it might disturb Yu Mingjiao.

But tonight, perhaps because of the heat, she had taken the necklace off and forgotten to put it back on after tending to Yu Mingjiao.

Yu Mingjiao's fingers traced the scar over and over, her breath catching in her throat.

Cen Lingqiu stifled a laugh, grabbing Yu Mingjiao's hand. "Jiao Jiao, that tickles."

But Yu Mingjiao didn't let go. Her face, which had been pale and lifeless for so long, seemed to come back to life, a glimmer of recognition sparking in her dark eyes. She sat up abruptly, breathing heavily.

Cen Lingqiu followed her movements, her brow furrowed in concern. "What's wrong? Did you hear the voices again?"

Yu Mingjiao shook her head frantically.

"Then what is it? Are you feeling unwell?"

Cen Lingqiu reached out to touch her face, her hands fluttering over her, trying to find the source of her distress. But Yu Mingjiao grabbed her wrists, holding them tightly. For someone so thin and frail, she suddenly had a surprising amount of strength.

"Jiao Jiao, tell me what's wrong—"

"Lingqiu Jie."

Yu Mingjiao's voice was hoarse, trembling with disbelief.

"I'm here," Cen Lingqiu said softly.

Tears welled up in Yu Mingjiao's eyes. Her lips quivered as she clung to Cen Lingqiu, her whole body shaking.

"Lingqiu Jie…"

Her voice cracked with overwhelming emotion, as if the dam holding back her feelings had finally burst.

"You've really come back this time?"

"You're really here with me?"

Cen Lingqiu was momentarily stunned, then a smile broke across her face. She wrapped her arms around Yu Mingjiao, pulling her close.

"Yes, Jiao Jiao," she whispered, her own voice trembling with emotion.

"I'm back."

At long last, Yu Mingjiao had truly heard her, breaking free from the delusions that had tormented her for so long. The realization washed over her like a wave, sweeping away the cold, suffocating fog that had clouded her mind.

All the pain, the despair, the loneliness, the hallucinations, the constant voices—all of it came crashing down, dissolving into a torrent of tears.

After five years of numbness and isolation, Yu Mingjiao finally allowed herself to cry, her sobs echoing through the room.

She cried like she hadn't cried in years, her body wracked with uncontrollable sobs.

Cen Lingqiu gently patted her back, her heart aching with every tear that fell.

"Let it all out, Jiao Jiao."

"These past five years have been so hard on you. It's okay to cry."