Running Over The Head Of My Ex [Rebirth]

Chapter 79

This was the first time they had ever slept together in the same bed since they met. Zhuo Zhiwei gently wrapped her arms around He Qingqi’s waist, nestled in her embrace, and fell asleep peacefully.

She couldn’t quite describe her feelings at that moment. Although the wild jealousy that had been growing inside her hadn’t completely faded, the knot in her heart began to unravel, softened by that initially fierce and passionate kiss that had later left her weak in the knees.

She wasn’t completely at peace, but she was able to accept it more willingly, no longer forcing herself to do so.

Yet, there was still a lingering sense of dissatisfaction. If He Qingqi and Fang Xuanyao had been married for ten years, then what about herself? Where would she be?

Perhaps… she would have just kept silently loving her, hiding all her feelings deep in her heart, making sure this married woman never noticed.

After all, this person had already taken residence in her heart long before Zhuo Zhiwei realized it. By the time she noticed, He Qingqi had already made a home there, leaving traces of herself everywhere. Zhuo Zhiwei sighed lightly, feeling an indescribable mix of emotions.

Luckily, this time she was fortunate; He Qingqi filled her heart completely, making her smile.

Her heart felt as if it were filled with strawberry-flavored marshmallows.

Just like that kiss. When He Qingqi kissed her, she was rough, like a jerk, yet the response she received was all sweetness and acceptance.

He Qingqi’s tongue was soft, her lips even softer. Her kissing skills weren’t particularly good, carrying a hint of youthful awkwardness, but being patient with her never seemed wrong.

No longer was Zhuo Zhiwei like a drifting leaf in the human world, lost and confused. Now she had someone she loved, someone she could rely on, someone she could get mad at, someone she didn’t need to restrain herself around.

“You can be a little selfish with me.”

These were her own words.

As night fell, in the final seconds before drifting off to sleep, Zhuo Zhiwei hummed to herself, her lips curling into a small smile as she rubbed her forehead against He Qingqi’s cheek.

The narrow single bed squeezed the two of them tightly together, yet in the height of summer, they didn’t feel hot. Instead, their faces were alight with a peculiar kind of joy.

For a brief second, He Qingqi suddenly opened her eyes, staring at the ceiling. Perhaps this was the happiness she had always longed for.

…

“The Inn at Qiran” had concluded perfectly. Though everyone had already exchanged contact information early on, there was still a sense of reluctance. The five young people in the group chat spent their days joking around, enjoying their carefree interactions.

Back in City B, He Qingqi practiced dance daily until her legs felt weak, all while constantly trying to please her girlfriend—or rather, her ex-girlfriend.

Zhuo Zhiwei was determined to see through her declaration of “I don’t want you anymore.”

Gone was her usual calm and gentle demeanor around He Qingqi; she now treated her with indifference, always holding her head high and occasionally letting out small hums, often not even sparing her a glance.

He Qingqi, however, wasn’t annoyed. Instead, she followed Zhuo Zhiwei around with a doting smile, sticking to her like glue, impossible to peel off.

Initially, Zhuo Zhiwei felt uneasy, but she gradually grew used to it, eventually enjoying He Qingqi’s relentless affection.

Tao Jinghan watched them in amazement, wondering what kind of bizarre relationship these two had.

But in the quiet of night, He Qingqi’s body never seemed to obey her. She would shamelessly crawl into Zhuo Zhiwei’s bed, kissing her breathless until she was gasping for air.

Zhuo Zhiwei would try to push He Qingqi away, but those eyes, like pools of intoxicated spring water, would make her head spin with just one look.

Her gaze was hazy, and her long, dark lashes trembled lightly like raven feathers, exuding a breathtaking beauty.

The hand pressed against He Qingqi’s chest would lose all strength, softening into a weak fist between them.

Occasionally, when caught in the heat of the moment, He Qingqi would grip Zhuo Zhiwei’s wrist tightly, sometimes squeezing hard enough to cause pain.

Yet Zhuo Zhiwei liked it. Hearing He Qingqi’s ragged breathing brought a secret delight and sense of pride.

Then, by the next day, they would return to their roles of humble admirer and aloof goddess.

While preparing for a new album, an event occurred that left He Qingqi deeply unsettled.

Qi Ran called, asking if they remembered the first group of guests they had served—those three generations of a family.

How could they not remember? He Qingqi blinked, a sense of foreboding creeping in. It was already September, and they had been apart for a month. How much longer could Grandpa Liu, who was already on the brink, hold on?

Her gaze turned distant, her heart heavy with worry as she instinctively clenched her fingers.

She stammered, “What’s happened?”

Qi Ran’s voice, somber and reflective, came through the phone like the sound of gentle rain on a quiet night, full of weight and melancholy.

“He’s been in a coma for twenty-four hours. The doctors say there’s no guarantee he’ll wake up. They’re already preparing for the end.”

Though He Qingqi had mentally prepared herself, hearing the news still stunned her. She recalled the brief but deeply impactful time they had spent together, and a wave of sadness washed over her.

How did it all end so quickly?

She bit her lip, her throat tightening, and blurted out, “I want to see him.”

Qi Ran was silent for a moment before letting out a long sigh. “I agree. After all, we were brought together by fate. We should at least be there to see Grandpa Liu off.”

Qi Ran then gave her the address and hung up.

Death is inevitable, and though time was tight, Yang Pei still granted He Qingqi and Zhuo Zhiwei two days off. The two of them flew to Liu Si’s hometown.

It was a small, insignificant city. When they found the hospital, He Qingqi’s brows furrowed instantly.

The place was simple and somewhat desolate, with few people around.

Could this kind of hospital provide Grandpa Liu with a painless departure?

She didn’t know.

But she couldn’t blame anyone because she knew it wasn’t about the Liu family not wanting to spend money. Given how much Liu Si and Liu Xing cared for Grandpa Liu, there had to be a deeper reason why he was in this hospital.

The ward was on the tenth floor. As soon as He Qingqi and Zhuo Zhiwei stepped out of the elevator, they immediately spotted the familiar figure.

Liu Si stood by the window, clutching her face, her sobs stifled and overwhelmed, echoing down the empty corridor.

He Qingqi’s eyes flickered with emotion as she softly called, “Liu Si.”

She patted Liu Si’s shoulder but couldn’t bring herself to say the customary words of condolence. Any comfort seemed pale and powerless at this moment.

Liu Si recognized their voices and continued crying, sometimes saying, “Grandpa said he’s in pain. He doesn’t want to be in pain anymore.”

Then, at other times, “I’m scared. I can’t bear to lose him.”

Zhuo Zhiwei’s eyes turned misty as she took a breath and stepped forward to hug Liu Si, saying nothing.

They had arrived just in time. Grandpa Liu had only woken up a few seconds ago. The doctor at this small hospital seemed unreliable, simply noting that it was a brief revival.

As the slightly open door swung inward, He Qingqi saw Grandpa Liu half-sitting in bed, an oxygen mask strapped to his nose, a thin blanket draped over his frail body, and a catheter extending from beneath him.

His eyes were still cloudy, but when he saw Liu Si, his face lit up with a smile, the wrinkles on his face stretching like dry, cracked earth.

The smile, though faint, was kind and warm.

It seemed as though only a month had passed, yet Grandpa Liu had aged so much.

He Qingqi couldn’t help but frown, her heart aching.

Beside him, attending to his needs, was Grandpa Liu’s elder sister. When she saw Liu Si and the two visitors, she smiled and pointed to Liu Si, playfully asking Grandpa Liu, “Yujiang, who is that? Do you recognize her?”

Grandpa Liu didn’t speak; he just chuckled, clearly muddled.

After laughing for a while, he suddenly furrowed his brow, pointing to his chest without knowing exactly where.

Pursing his lips, he looked up with pleading eyes. “Old man, it hurts here.”

He could no longer see clearly and couldn’t recognize anyone, but he could still recognize Liu Si’s silhouette, the one he had raised from childhood.

Hearing this, even without being directly involved, He Qingqi and Zhuo Zhiwei couldn’t help but feel tears well up.

Liu Si collapsed to the ground, sobbing uncontrollably.

Qi Ran and the others had arrived earlier and were unsure what to say as they watched the scene unfold.

The peaceful moments only lasted until midday. Grandpa Liu drifted between moments of clarity and confusion. Nurses came and went, administering pain relief and sedatives, keeping him between sleep and wakefulness.

All other medications had been stopped, as they no longer served any purpose and would only cause him discomfort.

The Liu family understood

clearly—he would not make it through the night.

Around three in the afternoon, a sudden gleam appeared in Grandpa Liu’s eyes.

“Xingxing.” Grandpa Liu looked at the ceiling, his aged, spotted right hand trembling.

“Grandpa!” Liu Xing rushed over.

“Help me up.”

Thinking it was urgent, Liu Xing quickly moved closer.

Grandpa Liu took a few labored breaths. “Sit me in the wheelchair, over by the window.”

It took all his strength to utter those words, followed by a deep cough that exhausted him.

Beyond the window lay the home he once shared with his wife and the place she had passed away. After her death, he never set foot there again.

This was his last act of defiance and dignity as a human being.

“I want to sit up to die,” he said calmly.

…

Grandpa Liu’s wish was fulfilled. His children and grandchildren surrounded him, and though Liu Si’s eyes were brimming with tears, she remained silent in his final moments, allowing her tears to flow quietly.

He passed away with a smile.

From now on, pain would never torment him again.

After attending his funeral, He Qingqi and Zhuo Zhiwei returned to City B.

The flames from the funeral pyres rekindled memories buried deep within her, leaving her momentarily lost.

Maybe when the Wonders contract expires, she thought, she could focus on making one movie a year and spend more time with her own grandfather.

…

By mid-to-late September, the music show sponsored by the He Group was set to film in City A.

Seven girls boarded the plane, returning to the starting point of their journey, filled with a mix of emotions.

In the blink of an eye, they had already been in the industry for three months.

On the plane, He Qingqi turned her head, smiling at her ex-girlfriend, who was pointedly ignoring her, sipping water in small sips. She casually asked, “What do you think? Do you want to meet my family this time?”

Zhuo Zhiwei’s eyes widened in shock, nearly spitting out her drink. She forced herself to swallow, coughing uncontrollably.

He Qingqi patted her back, feigning hurt. “Is it really that scary?”

She mumbled softly, “It’s not like you haven’t met them before.”

Zhuo Zhiwei finally stopped coughing; her face flushed as she bit her lip, whispering shyly, “Isn’t it… too soon?” Her fingers intertwined nervously.

Noticing her little gesture, He Qingqi grabbed one of her hands, interlocking their fingers. “It’s bound to happen sooner or later.”

She then put on a mock pout, her voice sweet and teasing. “You know, you can’t be so unfair. I’ve already met your parents!”

Zhuo Zhiwei blinked in confusion. “Huh?”

He Qingqi had met her parents? How come she didn’t know? She hadn’t seen them in years, unless it was about the last incident with Nan Jue?

Her thoughts began to race.

But what He Qingqi referred to was something entirely different from what she imagined.

“I met them just before boarding!”

He Qingqi raised her chin proudly.

Then, mimicking one of her fans, she squealed in a high-pitched voice, “Ahhh, Weiwei! Look at Mama!”

“She’s basically my mother-in-law.”

Zhuo Zhiwei: “…”

He Qingqi blinked innocently.

Zhuo Zhiwei glared at her, though the look was more like a gentle pout than a threat.

She turned away, pulling her hand back from He Qingqi’s grip, and huffed. “No way, I’m not meeting your parents. We’re not even in that kind of relationship.”

It was like He Qingqi had set a trap for herself.

Though slightly embarrassed, He Qingqi’s smile slowly resurfaced.

She bit her lip, watching Zhuo Zhiwei’s side profile.

It seemed… she really was being a bit selfish.

But so adorable.

She let out a quiet laugh, her heart filling up completely. No matter how much Zhuo Zhiwei pushed her away, she still held onto her hand, refusing to let go.

Tao Jinghan glanced at them discreetly.

Once again, they were publicly flirting on company time. She sighed.

Yet his mind wandered back to Bian Suitong, who had been contacting her more frequently lately. There was a sense of urgency and restlessness about her that he couldn’t quite understand.

It had been two months since they’d last met, and it seemed like she was slowly coming to terms with Bian Suitong’s lack of affection for her.

Business CP?

Then so be it.

Gradually, her heart settled into calm acceptance.