After Faking My Death, My Iceberg Ex-Wife Went Crazy for Me - Chapter 37

Now that you’ve seen the body, you should finally give up, right…?

Look at our Jian Xinci—a weak, kind-hearted little sun, all alone and unloved! She even had an early encounter with you. As a domineering CEO, shouldn’t you have fallen in love at first sight, then become utterly captivated upon seeing her again, and finally seize her by force?!

Though you wouldn’t succeed in seizing her anyway… Not to be rude, but what did the Shang Family ever do to you? I have no idea how to turn things around for her!

Your role is actually quite crucial…

…Just follow the script. Don’t…

…Don’t make things difficult for me.

On the hospital bed, Ye Ling suddenly sat up.

Xue Jiqing, who was eating bread, startled so badly that she fumbled wildly, nearly dropping the bread on the floor.

“You’re awake! Do you want something to eat? Or would you rather have some water first?”

Before Ye Ling could answer, Xue Jiqing had already set down her half-eaten bread, opened a bottle of mineral water, and handed it to her.

Ye Ling took the bottle, moistened her throat, and asked, “Am I… in the hospital?”

“Yes,” Xue Jiqing nodded. “You suddenly fainted yesterday afternoon. It scared us half to death.”

“Yesterday?” Ye Ling frowned, vague images flashing through her mind. “How long have I been unconscious?”

“From yesterday afternoon until now…” Xue Jiqing calculated. “Almost twenty hours, I think.”

“Twenty hours…”

Remembering the voice she had heard, Ye Ling pressed her throbbing temples. “Did anyone visit while I was unconscious?”

“Yes,” Xue Jiqing recalled. “The doctors and nurses came by a few times, and then there was me and Lianqiu.”

“Not you,” Ye Ling paused. “Someone with a voice that sounded like a child.”

Xue Jiqing looked puzzled. “I don’t think so. Maybe a child was passing by the door and you heard them? Is she important?”

“…It’s not important. Maybe it was just a dream.”

A very noisy dream, chattering incessantly and driving her mad, yet she couldn’t remember a single word of it after opening her eyes.

Ye Ling lowered her hand, feeling utterly drained.

Xue Jiqing, noticing her poor condition, said, “Forget about the dream. I’ll get you something to eat, and then we’ll run some tests to check for any other issues.”

“Okay,” Ye Ling replied, instinctively reaching for her laptop on the bedside table.

It wasn’t there.

Whenever she’d experienced similar episodes in the past, Meng Lianqiu would always bring her phone and laptop to ensure she didn’t miss any work messages.

Ji Qing had said she’d been unconscious for nearly twenty hours. In that time, Meng Lianqiu would have surely prepared everything.

Which meant… for some reason, Meng Lianqiu didn’t want her to have access to her phone or laptop.

Something had happened.

Ye Ling closed her eyes briefly and called out to Ji Qing, who was about to leave the room.

“Ji Qing, I remember you were on a business trip recently, right?”

Xue Jiqing froze, gripping the door handle tightly. “Yeah,” she mumbled.

She quickly explained, “When I heard you were unconscious, I immediately booked a flight back.”

“Is that all? I don’t think so.” Ye Ling’s voice was firm. “You’re hiding something from me, aren’t you?”

Hai City, Yuexin Club.

Three years ago, the terrace restaurant was declared temporarily closed. Today, it has become Yuexin’s forbidden zone, visited only occasionally by cleaning staff.

Over a thousand days and nights have passed, yet the romantic and beautiful decorations remain untouched, as if frozen in time.

The vibrant roses have long withered, returning to the earth as natural nutrients.

But the sheer curtains still flutter in the breeze, everything appearing unchanged.

A single touch reveals the truth: after three years of wind and rain, the fabric has become so fragile it can barely withstand the slightest pressure.

“The last cleaning was a week ago,” Xiao Xu, recently promoted to manager, said as he opened the door. “It just rained, so there might be some dust.”

“That’s fine,” Ye Ling replied, stepping inside. When someone tried to follow, she added, “I’d like to be alone for a while.”

Meng Lianqiu hesitated, then stepped back. “Alright.”

Xiao Xu watched anxiously. “Is it really okay to let President Ye go in there alone?” he whispered.

“It should be fine,” Meng Lianqiu reassured him. “President Ye said she hasn’t seen Miss Geng in three years and wants to prepare herself properly for their reunion tomorrow. So…”

At least today, she wouldn’t come to any harm.

She’ll be fine.

Meng Lianqiu reassured herself, her gaze fixed on Ye Ling’s retreating figure.

From this angle, the last rays of sunset painted the sea with shimmering, rippling light.

Ye Ling stood bathed in this golden glow, her steps carrying her steadily toward the edge.

“President Ye!”

Meng Lianqiu’s heart clenched painfully. She didn’t even realize how she had rushed forward until she found herself beside Ye Ling.

She grabbed Ye Ling’s hand. “Please don’t…”

Before she could finish, Meng Lianqiu froze.

The hand she held felt impossibly frail, its presence so faint it was almost nonexistent. She nearly doubted if she were holding anything at all, as if she were grasping at empty air.

She always wears long sleeves. I never realized she’d become this thin.

“Don’t what?” Ye Ling asked calmly, when Meng Lianqiu didn’t continue. She switched the hydrangea to her left hand, plucked a withered leaf from its petals, and let the wind carry it away.

After this, she gazed quietly at Meng Lianqiu, as if still waiting for the rest of her sentence.

Meng Lianqiu pressed her lips together, released Ye Ling’s hand, and murmured, “I’m sorry. I misunderstood.”

Ye Ling chuckled, unbothered by Meng Lianqiu’s actions. She rested her hand on the edge of the flowerbed, quietly observing the small cluster of hydrangeas.

“Have these flowers been neglected for a long time?”

“Yes,” Meng Lianqiu replied, struggling to tear her gaze from Ye Ling’s face. She rarely saw Ye Ling smile, and while smiles usually conveyed happiness, she detected a sense of relief in that curve.

What decision could bring such relief?

Meng Lianqiu dared not dwell on the thought, sensing the answer wouldn’t be pleasant.

A heavy weight seemed to press down on her heart, slowing her response. “When the flowerbed was raised years ago, the workers must have transplanted the flowers. Perhaps some seeds remained in the backfilled soil, allowing these new ones to sprout.”

Ye Ling nodded. “We should transplant them again later. It’s better than leaving them isolated here.”

“Alright,” Meng Lianqiu agreed, emboldened by Ye Ling’s lack of dismissal. She cautiously followed behind, step by step.

As they walked and paused, the last sliver of twilight was being swallowed by the western horizon when they returned to their starting point.

The restaurant lights flickered on one by one, but after three years, many bulbs had burned out, leaving the remaining ones to flicker erratically, clinging to life.

Ye Ling smiled again, the warm yellow light flickering in her eyes. A gentle night breeze stirred her waist-length black hair, causing it to dance in the air like slender, ethereal hands.

Meng Lianqiu shuddered at her own thoughts. A sudden crackle pierced the air, and all the lights went out simultaneously.

“President Ye!” Meng Lianqiu’s voice rose to a sharp, strained pitch. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” Ye Ling replied, sounding genuinely puzzled by the question. She stepped forward, her pale face clearly illuminated by the emergency lights. “It’s probably just a short circuit that tripped the breaker. There’s no need to be afraid.”

Meng Lianqiu didn’t explain that her fear stemmed from something else entirely. Instead, she followed Ye Ling’s lead. “It’s too dark outside. Let’s wait inside until the power is restored, shall we?”

Ye Ling nodded. Using the flashlight on their phones, they made their way to a nearby lounge.

Soon after, the power was restored. The overhead lights blazed back to life, and Ye Ling raised a hand to shield her eyes as her pupils contracted in response to the sudden brightness.

“Lianqiu, could you ask the stylists to come over now?”

“I could,” Meng Lianqiu glanced out the window. “But it’s already late. What do you need them for?”

“Let’s try out the styling first,” Ye Ling said, rising to her feet and leaving Meng Lianqiu with only her back to look at.

“I want to save some time so I can see Xiaoxiao earlier tomorrow.”

“…Alright.”

Late at night, Meng Lianqiu gave the styling team a generous red envelope as they finished their work and saw them off.

Her phone was flooded with messages from Xue Jiqing.

Due to an urgent matter, Xue Jiqing couldn’t come to Hai City and was naturally anxious.

Meng Lianqiu replied to each message before asking Chen Qiao about Teacher Jiang’s condition.

They had exchanged contact information long ago for easy communication.

Chen Qiao quickly replied that Grandma had fallen asleep and hadn’t seen the news online yet.

Meng Lianqiu felt a slight sense of relief, but her thoughts drifted to Ye Ling, leaving her uneasy.

Ye Ling had refused to let outsiders into the room during the styling session, but Meng Lianqiu had caught a glimpse through the crack in the door as the team left.

Ye Ling was wearing a pristine white off-the-shoulder gown, its embroidery intricate and elaborate. The skirt was adorned with crystals and diamonds of varying sizes, shimmering so brilliantly it brought tears to her eyes.

Meng Lianqiu recognized the dress. Years ago, Ye Ling had commissioned its design and had it handcrafted by a studio in Italy.

She had ordered two gowns, each with a different style and size.

As one of the few people who knew about these dresses, Meng Lianqiu had often secretly wondered what expression Ye Ling would wear and what actions she would take when she finally revealed these wedding gowns.

Perhaps on a lazy afternoon, bathed in warm sunlight after finishing a book, Ye Ling would rise and casually retrieve two heavy garment bags from her closet, plunging into a dreamlike world of pure white.

But fate had other plans.

Just as Meng Lianqiu was about to forget about the gowns, they finally crossed the ocean and reached their destination.

Three months after their other owner had vanished without a trace.

It was nearly midnight, and the world was silent.

The door to the terrace restaurant stood ajar, and a slender figure glided through, lifting the hem of her gown.

Moonlight streamed across the polished floor, casting a long, flowing train behind her.

Without pausing, she moved step by step, guided by the moonlight, until she stood precisely where she had stood three years ago.

The raised railing reached her chest. She glanced around and pulled over a chair.

As she moved, her ill-fitting gown slipped slightly, and she carefully adjusted it.

Once ready, she removed her shoes and stepped barefoot onto the chair, then lowered herself into the flowerbed.

Hai City had recently rained, and the soil was still damp. Her foot sank slightly before meeting the hardened earth beneath.

After steadying herself, she took out a small mirror and checked her reflection in the moonlight.

The mirror revealed a hazy face, her hair neatly coiled and interwoven with ribbons.

She pressed down on her hair, feeling the numerous hairpins the stylist had used. It wouldn’t come loose easily.

Good. If it came undone, it wouldn’t look pretty, and Xiaoxiao wouldn’t like it.

Setting down the mirror, she lifted her skirt and placed the tips of her toes on the flowerbed’s edge.

In the moonlight, her pale, arched foot poised like a ballerina about to begin her dance.

Hurried, chaotic footsteps sounded behind her, but she didn’t turn around. Her toes gently tapped the edge.

The wind howled, and the sea surged toward her.

In the next instant, the wind ceased and the waves stilled.

Splashing water droplets froze mid-air. In the silent void, a furious curse echoed.

When Pu Mengyu dragged Lan Xiao out of bed, Lan Xiao immediately sensed something was off.

She had the distinct feeling she had just gotten up not long ago.

After washing up, she opened her bedroom door to find her classmates still half-asleep, and leftover food and dishes scattered on the table. Lan Xiao’s confusion deepened.

She couldn’t help but ask, “Didn’t we finish all the leftovers from the party yesterday? And why are you all still here?”

“Huh?” The classmates she addressed exchanged bewildered glances, looking like they had just woken up from a hangover.

Pu Mengyu emerged from the kitchen, set down a bowl, and reached out to feel Lan Xiao’s forehead. “You don’t have a fever. What nonsense are you talking about? They slept on the floor all night and just woke up. Where else would they be?”

“?”

Lan Xiao frowned, straining to remember. “They… slept here last night?”

“Yeah,” Pu Mengyu replied, handing out chopsticks. “These drunkards always end up passing out wherever we party.”

“Hey, that’s going too far!” someone protested.

Pu Mengyu crossed her arms and snorted, “Don’t even start. You’re the worst when it comes to drinking.”

Watching their playful bickering, Lan Xiao’s brow furrowed deeper.

Why did she keep feeling like the gathering had happened at least a day ago?

Yesterday… what had she been doing yesterday?

“Hiss—”

A sharp, needle-like pain pierced her brain, nearly causing her to collapse. Someone nearby quickly steadied her.

“Are you okay?”

Pu Mengyu leaned in, asking, “Are you feeling unwell? You look terrible.”

“Maybe I didn’t get enough rest,” Lan Xiao murmured.

“Should you lie down for a while?”

“…No, it’s fine.”

Lan Xiao pulled out a chair and sat down, mechanically shoving a few bites of food into her mouth.

Xiao Ba, am I really getting sick?

…

Receiving no response, Lan Xiao called out again.

Xiao Ba? Are you still there?

System 823?

Strange. Where had the System gone?

Had it left after the after-sales service ended, or had it run out of power?

Wait, did Systems even need charging?

Unable to figure it out, Lan Xiao simply pulled the pendant out and let it hang outside her clothes, hoping it would at least get some sunlight.

After finishing their late breakfast, the overnight guests returned to their homes. Pu Mengyu said she was meeting up with some friends to buy supplies for the outdoor party later.

Lan Xiao’s phone screen was cracked, so they decided to get it repaired together. They headed out, but the repair shop wasn’t in their usual area. As they approached a traffic light, Lan Xiao stopped, the sense of unease in her heart reaching a fever pitch.

Watching the bustling crowd, she asked, “Don’t you feel like all of this has already happened before?”

“I really don’t,” Pu Mengyu said, leaning in from behind. “The light’s green. Let’s hurry across.”

Lan Xiao pressed her lips together and didn’t move. “But I distinctly remember coming here yesterday. We even had most of the supplies ready when you went home, right?”

“No, we didn’t,” Pu Mengyu replied, her voice softening with concern. “Yesterday we only went to Zhongchao, and that’s not even this way. Are you under too much stress lately? Maybe you’re feeling…”

Sigh, how pitiful. Separated from her lover for so long.

A voice suddenly echoed in Lan Xiao’s mind, overlapping with Pu Mengyu’s.

A chill ran down Lan Xiao’s spine. She interrupted Pu Mengyu, “We were here. I know we were.”

Xiao Ba, are you still there?

System?

Lan Xiao desperately called out in her mind, but it was as if the System had vanished into thin air, offering no response whatsoever.

“Don’t you feel that something’s wrong?”

In the hospital room, a bead of sweat clung to Ye Ling’s nose as she stared intently at Meng Lianqiu.

“Today—no, yesterday. Yesterday morning, right here in this room, you and Ji Qing told me… told me they’d found Xiaoxiao’s body.”

“Really, I don’t.” Meng Lianqiu, frightened by her intensity, shook her head repeatedly. “Miss Xue went on a business trip last week; she wasn’t even here. And from when you lost consciousness to when you woke up, it’s only been a little over an hour. How could we possibly have…”

Then, remembering something, Meng Lianqiu said, “I just saw a news report about families claiming unidentified bodies. Could you have heard it while you were unconscious and then… had a nightmare?”

A nightmare?

Right, right, it was just a nightmare~

That’s it, it was just a dream.

Yes, yes~~

Ye Ling’s eyes instantly turned cold. “Who are you?”

“…”

After a moment of silence, Meng Lianqiu hesitantly pointed to herself. “Me?”

Without answering, Ye Ling grabbed her phone and swiftly got out of bed.

“Book a flight. I’m going to Hai City.”