Chapter 065: Just Once, Is That Okay?

Jiang Yao arrived outside Chen Shu’s hospital room, intending only to sneak a glance at him. Unexpectedly, she ran right into Aunt Qin coming out of the room.

Jiang Yao lowered her head awkwardly, pressing her lips together, unsure of what to say.

Aunt Qin glanced back at her son, still lying in the hospital bed. “The doctor said Xiao Shu can be discharged in another month.”

“Huh?” Jiang Yao was caught off guard, not knowing how to respond.

Aunt Qin had not scolded her; instead, she shared news about Chen Shu’s condition. It had been many, many years since Aunt Qin had spoken to her like this.

“What’s with that look? Is there something you don’t understand?” Aunt Qin frowned. “Didn’t I already say before that you don’t need to come to the hospital to see him?”

“And another thing,” Aunt Qin turned back into the room, and before long came out with a brown envelope, which she thrust into Jiang Yao’s arms. “Here, take this back. We may be poor, but we don’t need your things.”

Jiang Yao clutched the envelope. The amount she had put in it was still there, untouched.

“Aunt Qin, I…”

“What?” Aunt Qin glared at her. “What you owe the Chen family, you’ll never repay in this lifetime. But don’t think you can pay us back this way!”

Aunt Qin’s eyes reddened as she spoke. “If Chen Zui knew, he wouldn’t rest easy in heaven.”

Hearing her teacher’s name, Jiang Yao felt a lump in her throat.

She quietly put the money away. “I understand.”

Aunt Qin looked at Jiang Yao’s expression and glared at her again. “Chen Shu hasn’t been to school during this time, so I tried to return his scholarship fund to the school. Guess what they told me.”

Jiang Yao’s eyes widened in shock, her mouth opening but unable to speak.

“They told me there never was any scholarship fund. Someone asked the school to pass the money to us—not just in middle school, but ever since primary school. Eight years of it.” Aunt Qin’s gaze bored into Jiang Yao.

Jiang Yao avoided her gaze. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” Aunt Qin choked back tears. “Jiang Yao, you’ve made me, made the whole Chen family, into a laughingstock!”

Once, she had been able to hate Jiang Yao without restraint or guilt. But now, unknowingly, she had accepted money from her.

“Aunt Qin, it was only right for me to do it,” Jiang Yao insisted stubbornly.

“Go to Chen Zui’s grave and ask him if this is what he would have wanted!” Aunt Qin mentioned her son and wiped her tears away. “Until his last breath, all he ever wished for was your happiness. Yet what have I done all these years? I spent the money of a child who already struggled to survive! I took her money while resenting her, cursing her!”

A sharp, sour ache gripped Jiang Yao’s heart.

Aunt Qin had called her “child”—a word she hadn’t heard from her in so long.

“Aunt Qin, I wanted to. I did it willingly, from my heart.” Jiang Yao lowered her head, tears as big as beans rolling down her cheeks, one after another.

“Don’t look like that!” Aunt Qin yelled at her. “Don’t think I’ve forgiven you. I never will! But… Don’t let Chen Zui’s sacrifice be in vain. Promise me you’ll live well!”

Jiang Yao nodded through her tears. “I understand, Aunt Qin, I do. Tonight, I will put an end to all my pain.”

With that, she bowed deeply to Aunt Qin, then turned and left, her eyes filled with determination.

Aunt Qin watched her departing figure and drew a deep breath.

“Have you really understood…” she murmured to Jiang Yao’s back.

As the sky darkened, Jiang Yao glanced at the time again.

There was still one important place she had yet to visit.

On the top floor, in the innermost room.

No lights were on in the ward. He Yunqing lay alone on the hospital bed, eyes closed, as if asleep after taking his medicine.

Jiang Yao quietly pushed open the door, stood by his side, and gazed at his sleeping face. A faint, bitter smile touched her lips.

“He Yunqing.” She called his name softly, in a voice almost too quiet to be heard.

“I’m about to do something—something only I can finish myself,” Jiang Yao sat down on the chair, leaning lightly against the wall by his bedside, then lowered her head to look at him. “I might die, or perhaps I won’t.”

He Yunqing, in deep sleep, breathed evenly, showing no sign of response.

“If you were awake, would you stop me? Would you tell me there’s no need for me to go this far? I know that too, but I can’t bear to see anyone else hurt because of me,” Jiang Yao sniffled. “Let me be the only one to walk through this hell.”

“Please, all of you, don’t reach out to me anymore.”

Jiang Yao realized she really liked watching He Yunqing sleep.

Not just because he was handsome, but because only at times like this could she speak to him without restraint.

“Do you know, I never blamed you for what happened back then,” Jiang Yao recalled the past. “Even if it weren’t for you, my life wouldn’t have been any better. Still, I was furious with you, resentful.”

“Do you know what I resented you for?”

On the bed, He Yunqing’s brow furrowed ever so slightly.

Jiang Yao didn’t notice, and continued, “I was angry you lied to me. How could you only feel guilty for me? Why didn’t you…”

She trailed off, unable to finish, brushing her hair back and smiling helplessly.

“In truth, I was angrier at myself—for expecting anything from you.”

She slowly stood.

“You have your own path, and I have my fate. It’s time for us to part ways.”

So saying, she leaned down, her lips gently brushing his cheek—a soft kiss on his fair skin.

For the first time, she kissed him willingly and fully aware.

Jiang Yao smiled. “I hope you dream well, and that in your dreams, I no longer appear.”

With that, she quietly turned and left the room.

Inside, He Yunqing slowly opened his eyes, gazing at the faint light beyond the doorway, a profound look flickering in his eyes.

“I will always reach out a hand to you.”

As long as you wish to take it…

Leaving the room, Jiang Yao ran into her mother.

She tried to pass by as if nothing had happened, intent on leaving.

“A-Yao…” her mother suddenly called after her.

Jiang Yao stopped in her tracks.

“I know you don’t want to see me,” her mother looked at her pleadingly, “but just this once, only this once, could you?”

“What do you mean, just once?” Jiang Yao was puzzled.

“You once said you were long past the age when food could make you happy. I remember. But I made your favorite dumplings with three-flavor filling,” her mother looked at her with pleading eyes, “This time, I want to eat with you. Can I?”