After being reborn, I had a bad ending with my first love. - Chapter 4

“Yansui, don’t go, okay?”

The man held her shoulders, bending down to rest his chin on her shoulder and whispering, “Don’t go, I want to be with you.”

Her fingers, clutching his collar, curled involuntarily. Because of his words, her eyes filled with tears.

She tilted her head back, wanting to answer him.

But just as her eyes met his, she saw a fleeting trace of disgust flash across his face. At the same time, the arm around her waist withdrew.

He stepped back, creating distance between them. The tenderness from a moment ago turned cold—

“Sorry, Yansui, let’s break up.”

—

Yansui’s eyes flew open. The man’s figure vanished, replaced by a ceiling tinged with the dim yellow of sunrise.

She stared blankly at the ceiling, unable to shake off the dream.

Last night, she had lain awake, thinking about her rebirth. She didn’t know when she had fallen asleep. Since she hadn’t closed the curtains, the dawn light now spilled through the window, casting shadows along the walls.

After some time, a rooster crowed somewhere in the neighborhood.

Her gaze flickered, her thoughts dragged back to the present. In the blink of an eye, a tear slid down from her lashes, disappearing into her dark hair scattered across the pillow.

Yansui sniffled and sat up, propping herself with one hand on the bed.

“Host.” The system’s voice echoed in her mind.

“Mm,” she answered softly. “I’m fine.”

“Host, don’t forget why you came back.”

The system reminded her again, as it always did whenever her emotions wavered.

A flicker of irritation passed through her, quickly followed by a deep helplessness.

“I know. You don’t have to keep reminding me.”

Her bare feet touched the floor, the chill immediately creeping up her body.

Late September mornings already carried the bite of autumn. She pulled open the swaying curtains and tied them back.

Without the gauzy fabric to soften it, the morning breeze rushed in, brushing across her skin and raising goosebumps.

But the cool air cleared the haze left by her dream.

She had woken early. Dawn light fell across the neighborhood, wrapping the house in a soft blur. Outside, the streets were quiet, only a few birds flitting from tree to tree.

Gazing out at the ordinary buildings, her thoughts wandered back to her dream—and to the pact she had made with the system before her return.

“Do you want to go back and start over? To stop your mother’s tragedy, protect your younger siblings, and save the family your father destroyed?”

“The condition is that I attach myself to you. You must complete the tasks I assign, and return everything to the proper course.”

She had just died once. Her numb nerves stirred faintly at the system’s words.

She hated her father. She hated Yan Zhaoting.

He destroyed their family, yet lived freely and prosperously.

Why is it that the wicked go unpunished? Why do the betrayers live better than the betrayed? Why must those who were wronged suffer all their lives, losing family, lovers, and friends?

So when she heard the system’s added conditions, she hadn’t hesitated.

Her mother had been lying in the ICU for years, tubes covering her fragile body. The sight had always broken Yansui’s heart.

She could hardly remember what her mother used to look like; when she thought of her now, all she could see was that pale, suffering face.

She wanted her mother to recover. Any condition, she would accept. Giving up a man who no longer loved her was nothing.

The moment she saw seventeen-year-old Yu Shuli again in this life, her heart had betrayed her before her mind could.

Her emotions had surged past reason, and her body had answered before she could think.

But Yansui knew well: there had been no ending for her and Yu Shuli in her last life. And there wouldn’t be one this time either.

—

By the time Yansui finished a practice test in her room, it was just past seven.

She gathered the papers and went downstairs.

In the dining room, the housekeeper and Sui Yuling had already set breakfast. Yan Zhaoting sat at the table reading his newspaper.

Hearing her footsteps, Sui Yuling looked up. “Suisui, you’re up? Come eat!”

“What do you want? I made noodles, and the housekeeper steamed some buns.”

“…Noodles,” Yansui said, pulling out a chair opposite her father.

Though there was a housekeeper, Sui Yuling had never stopped cooking. For years she had always joined in preparing meals, caring for every member of the family wholeheartedly.

Yansui had told her many times not to tire herself out.

But Sui Yuling always said, “Your father works hard outside to earn money. Compared to him, what I do is nothing. A good family means everyone does their part.”

She had said it with a happy smile, content with her marriage.

Now, remembering it, Yansui could only feel bitter irony.

Her mother had given everything for this home, while her father had long since built another one elsewhere.

These past five days since her return, Yansui had often wanted to tell her mother the truth—to wake her from the illusion of her marriage.

But she held back.

She knew her mother’s beliefs couldn’t be changed overnight. Learning the truth would cut her deeply, more than anyone else.

Even reborn, Yansui still hadn’t figured out the best way to reveal her father’s betrayal.

Every time she met her mother’s gentle eyes, guilt welled up in her chest.

So she kept it to herself, bearing the burden alone. She would slowly uncover the truth, piece by piece, in the days ahead.

She would help her mother hold up the family.

The housekeeper placed a steaming bowl of noodles before her, topped with two soft-boiled eggs.

She poked one with her chopsticks, letting the yolk flow into the golden broth. Blowing away the rising steam, she tasted the noodles mixed with egg. The flavor brought her quiet joy.

She had always loved this simple bowl of egg noodles made by her mother.

In her last life, when their family’s assets had been transferred away, leaving them only with debts, she, her siblings, and Sui Yuling had squeezed into a rented flat. Life was unbearably tight.

Even then, her mother would cook her a bowl of noodles after evening study sessions.

Until her depression worsened. One night, after sending the children out, she had attempted suicide in her room. Yansui had come home unexpectedly and found her, rushing her to the hospital. That was how her mother ended up in the ICU, trapped in silence as a living corpse.

And Yansui had never again tasted her mother’s noodles.

On the first day of her rebirth, when she ate her mother’s noodles again, tears had streamed uncontrollably down her face, her trembling chopsticks nearly slipping. Her reaction had frightened Sui Yuling, who thought she was overwhelmed by schoolwork.

“I’ll be at the factory this afternoon. Won’t be home for dinner,” Yan Zhaoting said.

“Alright,” Sui Yuling replied.

Yansui lowered her eyes, eating quietly, avoiding her father’s gaze.

Suddenly, a pair of chopsticks reached across, dropping a chunk of fatty meat into her bowl.

“Suisui, eat some meat.”

His voice grated against her, but she forced out a “thank you.” With a flick of her chopsticks, she pushed the greasy morsel aside.

“Wasn’t today’s dish a little oily?” Yan Zhaoting asked.

She kept eating in silence. Sui Yuling quickly answered, “Really? I even put in less oil today since I know you don’t like it.”

“Still too greasy. Don’t cook it next time. Let the housekeeper do it.”

Yansui froze mid-bite, lifting her eyes to find her mother’s face.

Sui Yuling paused briefly, her smile faltering, before smoothing it back into place. “Alright, I understand.”

—

After breakfast, Yan Zhaoting returned to his room. Her younger brothers, Yan Jiaping and Yan Jianan, were still asleep.

Yansui carried her dishes to the kitchen, where her mother was washing up.

“Leave it, Suisui. I’ll wash,” Sui Yuling said warmly.

Yansui set the bowl down. Watching her mother’s busy figure, remembering how she hadn’t even eaten a bite yet, her chest ached.

“Mom, you eat first. I’ll wash.”

Her mother chuckled. “Worried about me? Don’t be. It’s just a few dishes—I’ll be done in no time.”

“…”

Unable to hold back, Yansui wrapped her arms around her mother’s waist, resting her forehead against her back. Softly, she said, “Mom, I think today’s noodles were especially delicious.”

Sui Yuling paused, then turned and rubbed their cheeks together with a smile. “Thank you, Suisui.”

—

Following the system’s directions, Yansui arrived at an old residential compound in Dongcheng District.

According to the system, this was where Yan Zhaoting’s mistress lived. On this timeline, he was already cheating and keeping a home here. His excuses about working late at the company were just covers for spending weekends with her.

The system couldn’t interfere too much with this world, so all it could provide was the neighborhood’s name.

Though called “old,” the place was more like a community, divided into several phases.

When she had left the house earlier, Yan Zhaoting had already driven off. She didn’t know if he had come here or actually gone to work.

She wasn’t planning to confront him today. The divorce that had destroyed their family in her past life was still three months away. She needed that time to secure as much as she could for her mother and siblings.

In the past, Yan Zhaoting had tricked Sui Yuling into signing loans and transferring the company’s ownership, claiming financial trouble. Later, he had divorced her on the pretext of household registration, before fleeing abroad with his mistress and all their money.

Left behind, they had been stripped of everything, forced to shoulder the debts.

The destruction of a family came in a single instant—but also through years of quiet betrayal.

This time, Yansui would make sure they avoided it. She would recover the stolen money, expose his affair, and drive him out with nothing.

Today, she only wanted to test her luck—perhaps catch sight of the mistress’s building.

The neighborhood had no security, just several areas patched together.

She wandered through, taking note of the shops and cars parked along the streets.

So focused was she that she didn’t notice the dark clouds gathering overhead until raindrops landed on her nose.

She quickly ducked under the eaves of an empty ground-floor unit, where the overhanging balcony above gave some shelter.

But the rain poured down harder and harder. Water splashed onto her legs, soaking her pants.

She hugged her arms to herself, leaning against the rough wall. Its coarse texture pressed against her thin clothes, but instead of discomfort, the contact brought her a strange calm.

Leaning there, she stopped thinking about her mission. She simply stared at the curtain of rain, letting her mind go blank.

For the first time in five days since her return, she felt truly relaxed.

Then, just as she was lost in the rhythm of the storm, a rusty security door beside her creaked open. Its harsh squeal was quickly swallowed by the rain.

She stepped aside to give space.

But just as she was about to drift back into thought, a muffled voice called out through the downpour—

“Yansui?”