Adopting Myself from the Young Heiress - Chapter 28

Yan Ciwei was slightly dehydrated and utterly exhausted.

She checked herself into a private hospital room and had a nurse start an IV drip.

Then she sent a message to An Chixu.

Unsure when An Chixu’s meeting would end, she hesitated to send any further messages that might seem like nagging or pressuring her.

She also couldn’t be certain if An Chixu would even respond.

Yan Ciwei pulled out the cloth doll she always carried and gently stroked the mole on its cheek, sighing softly.

Their relationship had been strained these past few days. She desperately wanted to see An Chixu, yet she was still hurt by An Chixu’s earlier rejection, resorting to various tactics to get her attention.

In the end, none of her efforts seemed to have any effect on An Chixu.

She couldn’t bring herself to push too far. An Chixu was the little cat she had raised with her own hands; even a single shed hair would worry her for days.

Heaven only knew how wildly her heart had raced when An Chixu finally called.

Her number had lingered on An Chixu’s phone for hundreds of hours.

She had waited for this call for far more than hundreds of days.

Yan Ciwei tucked the doll away and opened her phone again.

This was the thirty-ninth time she had checked her phone since the IV drip started.

All for the sake of waiting for a single message.

If she could receive it, she would check her phone hundreds more times if necessary.

Yan Ciwei stared at An Chixu’s contact name, her lips curving into a soft smile, her eyes softening unconsciously.

She stroked the photo on her phone screen. In it, An Chixu was still eighteen, with grape-like eyes that shone with pure, clear light.

This was a selfie they’d taken during their first winter together, while shopping. Yan Ciwei had thousands of such photos at home, but this one was her favorite.

When no reply came, Yan Ciwei turned off her phone and stared out the window, lost in thought for two minutes.

It had rained heavily last night, and the morning had dawned clear. By noon, however, dark clouds had crowded out the blue, covering the sky in a thick, oppressive layer.

The weather was ominous. If it rained, the roads would become treacherous, and she’d forgive An Chixu for ignoring her probing.

In the end, it was all her own wishful thinking.

Her mind raced through a thousand possibilities, but An Chixu might not even hear a whisper of her thoughts.

Yan Ciwei picked up her phone again, silently adding another count to her tally. Listening to the steady drip-drip-drip of the IV, she realized the bag was nearly empty.

Suddenly, the hospital room door swung open.

Assuming it was a nurse, Yan Ciwei showed no reaction, not even glancing up.

Still, she instinctively turned off her phone, tucked it into her pocket, and freed the hand connected to the IV.

But the warmth that touched the back of her hand was familiar.

Yan Ciwei jerked her head around, her eyes still red from sleeplessness, tinged with exhaustion, and shimmering with disbelief.

The shimmer was made of tears. It trembled briefly before falling.

An Chixu pulled up a chair and took Yan Ciwei’s hand.

Yan Ciwei blinked, another tear escaping.

“Tuan… Tuantuan. Is it really you?” In an instant, the tears vanished from Yan Ciwei’s face.

She seemed unwilling to let An Chixu see her vulnerability. No matter how violently her chest heaved with sobs, she would always wipe her tears away in the next instant.

But this time, she spoke.

Her voice trembled so badly.

An Chixu couldn’t help but tighten her grip on Yan Ciwei’s hand.

“Could there be another me?” An Chixu sighed, pausing the IV drip and pressing the nurse call button.

“How did you get trapped in the tunnel? I remember it wasn’t raining when you went home yesterday,” An Chixu said, always assuming Yan Ciwei had left work earlier than her.

She wasn’t sure where Yan Ciwei lived now, but she imagined it couldn’t be far from the office. How could she have ended up in a tunnel?

Yan Ciwei tugged at the corner of her mouth, leaving behind an enigmatic smile.

It was a little bitter, like the lingering scent of geraniums.

Today, Yan Ciwei carried only the fishy stench of rain-soaked mud.

But when she pressed her hand closer to An Chixu’s and leaned in, An Chixu could once again detect Yan Ciwei’s unique scent.

A sharp pang shot through An Chixu’s chest. She cradled Yan Ciwei’s face, gently tracing her fingertips over the dried tear tracks and brushing against the red mole beneath her eye like a kiss.

Yan Ciwei lowered her lashes.

In the dim light, An Chixu couldn’t discern her expression.

But she imagined those eyes held nothing good—only sorrowful tears and stifled bitterness. Why else would Yan Ciwei avoid her gaze?

An Chixu fell silent, focusing on warming Yan Ciwei’s face and hands as best she could.

She released her only when the nurse entered the room.

Yan Ciwei tilted her head back, a clear plea for her to stay.

An Chixu patted her hair—a gesture of comfort that had once been reserved for Yan Ciwei alone.

Yan Ciwei didn’t understand the gesture, but An Chixu had already turned and left the room.

Now alone with the nurse, Yan Ciwei averted her face again, leaving only the IV bag for the nurse to adjust.

Outside the window, the sky had grown even more yellow and gray, a faint wind swirling newborn spring buds, threatening to scatter them.

An Chixu must be incredibly busy. Thanks to her, An Chixu was now juggling three projects…

So, she should be grateful for even this fleeting visit.

The nurse had left, leaving the room cold and empty. Yan Ciwei, slightly annoyed by her own sensitivity to the cold, curled up tighter on the hospital bed.

Her movements were minimal, but her body’s rise and fall became more pronounced.

She pulled out the 104th version of herself from her bag. After staring at it for a few seconds, she suddenly tore off its arm.

Cotton stuffing spilled out. Yan Ciwei gritted her teeth and continued, her hands trembling.

Still weak from her ordeal, she had spent half the day exhausted. Even killing this doll felt like a struggle.

Yet she persisted, tearing open the doll’s hair, ripping off its limbs, and rubbing away its red mole.

“Yan Ciwei?” No one expected the hospital room door to open again.

An Chixu’s voice stopped Yan Ciwei’s movements.

Her eyes were still bloodshot with hatred, glazed with venomous tears that blurred her vision.

But when she looked at An Chixu, she was like a rabid dog suddenly encountering its master.

She obediently lowered her head, a whimper escaping her throat, her gaze clearing.

Only then did Yan Ciwei notice the bag An Chixu was carrying.

It contained a bowl of warm porridge and side dishes.

An Chixu was now caring for her, just as she had cared for him in the past.

An Chixu couldn’t help but glance again. Even as Yan Ciwei hurriedly hid the cotton doll’s remains, An Chixu still caught sight of the doll’s distinctive red mole.

So, the doll Yan Ciwei had been stabbing wasn’t the gift I gave her.

In just a few seconds, Yan Ciwei had concealed the doll’s fragments.

An Chixu leaned closer to Yan Ciwei, choosing not to confront her.

Perhaps… Yan Ciwei doesn’t resent my abandonment, my leaving.

“Eat some. I couldn’t make it myself, so I bought it,” An Chixu said. Before leaving, she asked the nurse if Yan Ciwei needed any medication.

The nurse replied that Yan Ciwei needed to rest well and quit smoking fruit-flavored cigarettes.

She probably thinks I’m Yan Ciwei’s girlfriend.

An Chixu bought some vitamins on her way back. She was thrilled to have this chance to care for Yan Ciwei, her chest warming with excitement, and her movements became noticeably quicker.

Yan Ciwei seemed somewhat gloomy.

Whether it was from being seen during her breakdown or from exhaustion after a sleepless night, she moved more slowly than usual.

But An Chixu was feeding her.

“Delicious,” Yan Ciwei said, chewing each mouthful dozens of times.

An Chixu, unsure of what she was thinking, patiently waited for her to finish chewing. After all, they could always reheat it or buy more.

If necessary, An Chixu would eat the cold portions herself. She wasn’t some pampered young lady; she was just a stray cat, perfectly capable of eating cold food.

“Really? I got it from the nearest shop—I couldn’t go too far,” An Chixu said, skeptical.

Yan Ciwei’s palate was notoriously picky; she was likely just trying to be nice.

Ugh, how pathetic am I? I’m supposed to be taking care of her, yet she’s the one comforting me.

Yan Ciwei subtly pursed her lips.

It really is pretty bad.

She didn’t really want to eat any more.

An Chixu only fed Yan Ciwei a small portion before Yan Ciwei blinked at her, pleading not to eat any more.

An Chixu took the bowl and finished the porridge herself.

Just as she swallowed her first bite, Yan Ciwei grabbed her wrist.

“Hmm?” An Chixu set the bowl aside. I knew it wasn’t good. Yan Ciwei probably doesn’t like the taste.

Maybe I should order takeout instead.

Lost in thought, An Chixu reached out to wipe the sweat from Yan Ciwei’s forehead.

Yan Ciwei pressed down on her wrist again, as if repulsed, and pushed her hand away.

“Let me wipe you down. You’re sweating a bit—don’t want you catching a cold or fever,” An Chixu said, burying the fleeting sense of rejection. She picked up the new towel she had bought for Yan Ciwei.

Yan Ciwei’s fingertips curled slightly as she watched the towel approach. She tilted her head back, trying to avoid it.

But she steadied herself, allowing An Chixu to wipe away the sweat.

An Chixu wiped meticulously, just as she would care for herself, tending to every inch of Yan Ciwei’s skin.

As she was being cared for, Yan Ciwei blinked repeatedly, as if something were draining from her eyes.

The areas An Chixu had wiped felt unbearably itchy.

Yan Ciwei turned her face away in discomfort.

An Chixu’s cheek brushed against her neck, and she chuckled softly.

Yan Ciwei’s ears flushed crimson. She glanced sideways as An Chixu switched to wiping the other side.

“Has it gotten a bit bigger? I remember you saying you wanted to have it removed,” An Chixu said, pointing to a mole at the end of Yan Ciwei’s collarbone.

Yan Ciwei shifted uneasily, her body prickling with pain. Suddenly, the uneven mole seemed endearing; she no longer wanted to have it removed.

“Good girl, Sister,” An Chixu cooed again.

The initiative had silently slipped into her hands.

With each caress, her grip grew firmer.

Yan Ciwei lowered her head, her trembling appearing to stem from exhaustion.

“I’ll clean your sweat and reapply the medicine later,” An Chixu said, well-prepared.

This was their silent war, and An Chixu had already won the first battle.

Ten years of acquaintance, ten years of love and companionship. This was the first time An Chixu had seized control in matters beyond intimacy.

When An Chixu pulled her into a hug, Yan Ciwei suddenly clutched her back.

A hollow space opened in her heart.

“…Tuantuan, don’t you have work this afternoon?” Yan Ciwei finally broke under the feeling of losing control.

It felt as though she wasn’t sitting on the bed being held by An Chixu, but rather suspended in mid-air, imprisoned in her embrace.

She could fall at any moment—An Chixu was smaller and weaker than her. How could she possibly hold her steady?

But Yan Ciwei had forgotten that she had nurtured An Chixu for ten years. Even a kitten would grow into a leopard.

Of course, An Chixu could hold Yan Ciwei steady.

As she uncovered the scratches on Yan Ciwei’s back to apply the medicine, she heard Yan Ciwei’s question.

“Aren’t you going to help me?” An Chixu’s movements paused slightly.

Her voice was too soft. For the first time, Yan Ciwei couldn’t hear what An Chixu had said.

“What?” Yan Ciwei’s heart was pounding so hard the noise drowned out An Chixu’s question.

“Once I’ve finished applying the medicine, I’ll leave,” An Chixu said, her tone already turning cold.

Yan Ciwei’s movements became even gentler as she applied the ointment. If not for the stinging pain from the medicine on her wound, she might not have even noticed An Chixu holding her.

The floating sensation gradually faded as Yan Ciwei’s feet touched the ground again. Her head still felt hot, her cheeks flushed crimson.

Before she could fully process what was happening, An Chixu had already withdrawn her hands.

This time, there was truly no one holding her. Yan Ciwei’s hands awkwardly braced against the bed as she realized she had been sitting upright the entire time, never lifted into An Chixu’s arms.

As her head slowly cooled, she looked at An Chixu and saw her sitting beside the trash can, eating the remaining cold porridge.

“Tuantuan, don’t eat that. I’ll order a fresh bowl delivered to the office,” Yan Ciwei said, her voice barely audible, as if she were lost within herself.

She repeated herself. “Don’t eat that, sweetie. It’s cold. Doesn’t it hurt your stomach?”

She had already gotten out of bed and walked to An Chixu’s side.

Ignoring the trembling in her legs, she reached out and hugged An Chixu from behind, with unexpected force.

An Chixu’s stomach churned as Yan Ciwei’s hand pressed against it, intensifying her nausea.

Silently, An Chixu set down her chopsticks. Yan Ciwei immediately whisked the bowl of congee into the trash.

“Tuantuan…” Yan Ciwei reclaimed the embrace, holding An Chixu tightly, her arms locking around her.

She pressed her cheek against An Chixu’s shoulder, nuzzling against her neck, which carried the faint scent of cheap shampoo.

An Chixu stood motionless, rooted to the spot.

Yan Ciwei held her for a long time.

Long enough for Yan Ciwei’s chest to warm again, her abdomen glowing with warmth.

Long enough for An Chixu’s back to grow cold, her fingertips turning icy as rain.

Long enough for another sudden downpour to drape S City in the gray-yellow hues of the storm clouds.

Only then did An Chixu pry Yan Ciwei’s fingers loose and gently lay her back on the bed.

She met Yan Ciwei’s gaze.

Yan Ciwei smiled at her, her eyes radiating a warmth that defied the season, so tender it seemed capable of melting winter snow.

The heat in her gaze made An Chixu blink.

An Chixu lowered her head, gathered her belongings, and left without another word.

As she closed the door behind her, she listened to the pattering rain outside, tilted her head back, and waited for a cold drop to fall into her eye.

The icy rain slid down her cheek, cutting across her face.

She had lost.

The next morning, An Chixu arrived early at the hospital, reaching Yan Ciwei’s room by seven o’clock.

It was already empty.