Running Over The Head Of My Ex [Rebirth]

Chapter 37

Before embarrassment could linger in her mind for more than two seconds, He Qingqi cast it aside. Sometimes, other people’s hints left an impression that indeed guided one’s thoughts in that direction.

Just like how she once misunderstood Jiang Zhaonian’s feelings for her, egged on by the relentless teasing of Chai Xu. But in reality, Jiang Zhaonian was straight as an arrow and admired her solely for her strength.

Alone in the dark, one often reminisces. He Qingqi lay on the bed with her eyes closed for a while, her mind full of memories from junior and senior high school.

Unable to sleep, she only felt more awake the longer she kept her eyes closed.

He Qingqi sighed deeply, sat up, and ran her hands through her hair messily.

How boring.

With a blank expression, she suddenly remembered there were still things she hadn’t had a chance to ask Zhuo Zhiwei. She groped for her phone by the pillow, unlocked it with her fingerprint, and opened their chat window.

She pondered for two seconds before typing, “Are you asleep?”

Then she tossed the phone aside and fell back on the mattress.

About half a minute later, the phone vibrated weakly.

Zhiwei: No.

Concise and with a period—a sign of Zhuo Zhiwei’s compulsiveness.

He Qingqi’s eyes lit up suddenly, and her slender fingers flew over the screen, asking, “Can I come over?”

Zhiwei: Sure.

He Qingqi’s eyebrows shot up with delight. She tapped her feet on the ground, slipped into her slippers, dashed out the door like the wind, then quickly dashed back in to grab her essentials from the bedside.

As soon as she picked up her phone after “Occasionally” concluded, she vowed never to feel its absence a third time.

By the time He Qingqi went out again, Zhuo Zhiwei was already waiting at the door, hand on the handle, still in the pajamas she wore for the show.

The loose pajamas covered her modest curves, giving her legs a long and straight appearance. Her purplish-red hair flowed casually over her shoulders, presenting a beauty different from usual.

He Qingqi glanced down. Despite having seen Zhuo Zhiwei like this countless times, she still stared at her for a few seconds.

“Zhiwei.”

Even the usually cold Zhuo Zhiwei couldn’t help but curl her lips slightly in pride, catching the hint of amazement in her beloved’s eyes.

Having known each other for nearly four months, He Qingqi had never hidden her preferences. With the intention of being a good friend, Zhuo Zhiwei had carefully noted them all.

For example,

She had a preference for small chests.

Though not exactly small, she disliked overly prominent ones, preferring something more modest, like her own.

And now, maybe, Zhuo Zhiwei’s too.

She liked slender figures.

Thus, Zhuo Zhiwei had deliberately rolled up her sleeves, revealing the uniquely bony arms of a young person.

But a doubt gradually arose—why had she noted all this back then?

Could it be that, in her eyes, being a good friend included helping with their romantic affairs?

Zhuo Zhiwei tilted her head, her gaze growing subtler. Could it be that she had harbored ulterior motives towards this person all along?

Her face flushed, spreading to her ears. The orange light bathed her features, giving her an ethereal beauty as if she had stepped out of a painting.

He Qingqi blinked, seeing the beautiful person lower her eyes and turn sideways, her voice as cold as ever: “Come in.”

Though Zhuo Zhiwei’s face showed nothing, He Qingqi clearly caught the slight tremor in her voice.

Was she cold?

He Qingqi wondered absentmindedly.

Was the air conditioning set too low?

Seeing He Qingqi’s puzzled look, Zhuo Zhiwei’s body shivered slightly, almost as if she thought He Qingqi had figured out her feelings. Her throat tightened, and her heart pounded wildly.

Closing the door, He Qingqi glanced at the wall-mounted air conditioner, confirming it was on and set to 24 degrees. So was Zhiwei sensitive to the cold? She signaled, with her eyes, for Zhuo Zhiwei to roll down her sleeves.

Zhuo Zhiwei stood there, bewildered and at a loss.

She was fine just moments ago; why was she suddenly acting dumb? He Qingqi sighed, gazed at her helplessly, and uttered, “Your sleeves.”

“Huh?” Zhuo Zhiwei didn’t react.

“Roll them down.”

Seeing Zhuo Zhiwei still not moving, He Qingqi took a long step, stopping just four or five centimeters away.

One more half-step would place her within intimate distance.

Her chest thudded loudly, and Zhuo Zhiwei thought her heart might burst.

Trying to save it, she took a panicked step back, her voice rising a notch: “What are you doing?”

Her eyes were wide and round, and her cold face showed a mix of confusion and innocence.

He Qingqi, looking at her helplessly, stepped forward once more and grabbed her slender, fair arm. “What am I doing?”

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” He Qingqi’s voice, warm with a hint of indulgence and concern, asked, “If you feel cold, why are your sleeves rolled up so high?”

As those beautiful, long fingers moved over her sleeve, Zhuo Zhiwei’s heart settled back into her chest. She blinked, obediently holding out her arm for He Qingqi to adjust. Thud, thud, thud…

That little deer heart suddenly revived, but as if on a stimulant, it was more reckless and wild, much like her current feelings.

Zhuo Zhiwei suddenly understood why her fans always said, “Ah, I’m dead,” “Ah, I’m alive again,” upon seeing her. So this was what they meant.

Looking again at her beloved, who had her head lowered, she truly had handsome features, with eyes as clear as a mountain stream, full of unspoken focus.

Zhuo Zhiwei couldn’t help but feel a surge of happiness, her lips curling slightly as she glanced away.

Such a sincere youth, pure and untouched by the world, with eyes as clear as twin mountain springs—Zhuo Zhiwei’s gaze deepened as she sighed softly.

She couldn’t understand why Miss Fang had hurt this young girl, who was still somewhat childish and a bit domineering. Clearly, she was so good, so considerate, and so obedient.

But maybe it was for the best; otherwise, what would have been her place in all of this? In that case, she would probably have wanted to stay two thousand miles away from her.

A flash of irony crossed Zhuo Zhiwei’s eyes. How hypocritical she was! Zhuo Zhiwei, who had righteously condemned Fang Xuanyao during the day, is now secretly rejoicing at night because of it.

The old saying, “Like mother, like daughter,” has proven to be true.

But if it was this person in front of her, maybe she could trust her—that her sincerity wouldn’t fade, that her love would endure, and that even after learning about her past, she would stay the same.

Would she?

Zhuo Zhiwei didn’t know, but she was willing to risk everything to find out.

Love was supposed to be reckless, wasn’t it? If you backed down before even starting, what kind of love was that?

Zhuo Zhiwei knew it was still too early to consider these things, but for now, He Qingqi only saw her as a friend—at most, a good friend. But if she were to act without regard for the consequences, she would have to consider this person’s sincerity.

He Qingqi, seeing Zhuo Zhiwei still in a daze, took it upon herself to roll down her other sleeve.

“Not cold anymore, right?” The little lion with black-blue hair smiled at her sweetly, without a trace of the arrogance or impatience she showed to others.

In a trance, Zhuo Zhiwei stared at her. Could she take it to mean that He Qingqi also saw her as special?

However, remembering how she had rolled up her sleeves deliberately for this person, only to have them rolled down ungratefully, made her a bit angry.

And now she was even trying to take credit for it.

The obedient He Qingqi, who had been waiting patiently, saw the always gentle Zhuo Zhiwei give her a very soulful eye roll.

He Qingqi: “???”

“Can’t sleep?”

Zhuo Zhiwei walked to the bed and sat down, her cool eyes tinged with concern as she looked up at He Qingqi.

For some reason, He Qingqi’s heart skipped a beat. She blinked, sat beside her, sighed, and her gaze turned distant as she answered honestly, “Yes, it feels strange. It seems like we just participated in ‘Occasionally’ yesterday, and now it’s suddenly over.”

“There’s nothing to do now. Every day was so fulfilling before, but now, with nothing to do, it feels… empty and a bit… uncomfortable.”

He Qingqi frowned, pouting slightly, her eyes full of confusion as if something unbelievable had happened: “During ‘Occasionally,’ we couldn’t wait for it to end, often lamenting in the dormitory.”

He Qingqi abruptly raised her voice, her tone slightly sharp: “Let me out!”

“Just like that.” She shook her head self-deprecatingly, propped her hands on the bed, swung her legs twice, and looked sideways at Zhuo Zhiwei’s fair profile: “I wanted to go home so badly before, but now that I’m home, I miss the life there. Zhiwei, you know, it’s like… the feeling of graduating from junior and senior high school.”

Junior and senior high school.

Hearing these words, Zhuo Zhiwei froze, seemingly brought back to distant memories, those memories sealed and rotting in a corner, yet still clinging to her like maggots, in her body and mind… The light in her eyes gradually dimmed.

She turned to meet He Qingqi’s clear eyes, her lips curling slightly. “I don’t know, Qingqi.”

That was her answer.

There was no laughter in her eyes; instead, they resembled a bottomless, icy spring.

When Zhuo Zhiwei first realized she had inappropriate thoughts about He Qingqi, she decided to tell He Qingqi about her rotten past.

If He Qingqi couldn’t accept it, then she would give up. Now that He Qingqi had arrived, there was no time like the present.

He Qingqi shivered unexpectedly, also stunned, her sixth sense telling her that what Zhuo Zhiwei was about to say was exactly what she had come for. But seeing Zhuo Zhiwei’s expression, she regretted it.

Actually, she didn’t need to know. If revealing these things meant uncovering Zhuo Zhiwei’s rotten wounds, she would rather never know.

But Zhuo Zhiwei seemed determined to tell her.

“My middle school wasn’t like most people’s. It brought me no laughter or fond memories, only pain, suffering, and three years of unrelenting cold violence.”

He Qingqi’s eyes widened in shock, looking up at Zhuo Zhiwei, full of disbelief. Was it what she thought it was?

“And my high school… I went to the farthest high school in our city, thinking it would be a fresh start. But I didn’t expect that she wouldn’t let me go, like maggots in a corpse. She said she would never let me go.”

He Qingqi didn’t know who “she” was, but she could vaguely tell it was the person who had caused Zhuo Zhiwei’s school bullying. Her fists clenched tightly, wishing that “she” would appear before her right now.

She had only ever used one method to deal with school violence.

“I didn’t know what I had done wrong. I couldn’t understand why I had to bear the consequences when it was clearly my mother and her father who did wrong. I never hated them more than I did then.”

Zhuo Zhiwei’s voice had initially fluctuated with her memories, but as she spoke, it grew calmer and calmer, as if she were recounting an ordinary event.

But the calmer Zhuo Zhiwei became, the more terrified He Qingqi felt. If she didn’t break her silence, she would perish in it. This tranquility was far scarier than an outburst. He Qingqi would rather Zhuo Zhiwei cry; at least then she would still have her, wouldn’t she?

She felt a pang of fear, worried that Zhuo Zhiwei might truly get lost in her memories. Though Zhuo Zhiwei’s words were brief, He Qingqi could sense the agony and struggle of those three years—no, six years.

She reached out and pulled Zhuo Zhiwei into her arms.

Her voice trembled: “Don’t say anymore.”