After Transmigrating, I Became The Heroine’s First Love! - Chapter 14

Jiang Shiyuan turned her head away. “I don’t… I’ve never used tears as a weapon, Pei Xiangwan. I’m not like that. I wouldn’t do that to anyone else.”

Her voice came out in ragged bursts, like flour sifting through a shaky sieve.

“Not like that… I really hate you, Pei Xiangwan… I hate you so much for making me… like you so much… I hate… I hate that person too.”

The favoritism and affection that had once belonged to her had vanished when Pei Xiangwan returned. She wanted to reclaim them, to make Pei Xiangwan disappear.

Just as a goldfish cannot survive out of water and a bird cannot live underwater, she and Pei Xiangwan were destined to fail. Yet she had repeatedly told herself there was still a chance… still a chance… only to end up with the very outcome she dreaded most.

How foolish of me to deceive myself. Were those raindrops streaming down her cheeks? Jiang Shiyuan wanted to wipe them away, hating the wetness on her face, hating that it might be seen as a weapon.

Before she could move, Pei Xiangwan cupped her cheeks, her thumbs gently wiping away the tears as if polishing the world’s most precious jewel.

“There, there, don’t cry. It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have said those things. Please forgive me, Jiang Jiang. I’ll make it up to you. I promised before, and I’ll keep my word.” What a fool I’ve been, not cherishing such a beautiful childhood friend.

Pei Xiangwan couldn’t imagine what it felt like to be betrayed and demeaned by someone she considered her closest and most important person. All she knew was that it must hurt terribly.

She was hurting, and Jiang Shiyuan was hurting even more.

Jiang Shiyuan’s lips trembled violently, her sobs sounding like a wounded fox in the forest, desperately howling until exhausted, reduced to whimpering.

“Can I hug you?” Pei Xiangwan asked, her eyes slightly red, forcing a smile as she sought Jiang Shiyuan’s permission.

“You… you never owed me anything. It was all my fault from the beginning. You…”

Her words were cut off as Pei Xiangwan gently pinched her lips shut, the soft, marshmallow-like touch silencing her. Pei Xiangwan’s gaze locked onto Jiang Shiyuan’s face, while the other woman stared back, tears glistening in her eyes.

Suddenly, Pei Xiangwan thought Jiang Shiyuan’s lips looked like the mouth of a cartoon octopus, and she couldn’t help but smile at the absurdly cute image.

But to Jiang Shiyuan, that smile looked like mockery. She’s laughing at me again… again… The more she thought about it, the more wronged she felt, and tears gushed forth like an unstoppable fountain.

Pei Xiangwan panicked, realizing she had been disrespectful. She released Jiang Shiyuan’s lips, and the sobs exploded in her ears. Pei Xiangwan slapped her own hand.

“Damn this hand! Stop crying, Jiang Jiang.”

She pulled Jiang Shiyuan into her arms, the muffled sobs echoing in her ears, tugging at her heartstrings.

“Jiang Jiang, trust me. I’m here to save you.”

Her hand stroked Jiang Shiyuan’s head. The towering trees heard her words, as did the delicate seasonal flowers, the windbirds, and the nameless blossoms. Only the weeping Little Fox, lost in sorrow, remained deaf to her words.

Suddenly, their private world was invaded by outsiders, shattering the tranquility…

“Seriously, are you brainless? I told you not to go, not to go! Do you even understand Chinese?”

The girl crossed her arms and strode forward. “Are you just begging to be played? You’re so stupid! Girls always lie to you, and you still believe them? I honestly don’t know what you’d do without me.”

“Ping Lan, you’re not the only friend I’ll ever have.”

“So what?”

“So stop interfering. We’re not kids anymore. I’m not that person who used to let you yell at me all day without a word.”

The loud argument drowned out the muffled sobs, which gradually turned into sniffles. The small head in her arms slowly lifted, its gaze shifting to the arguing pair. Pei Xiangwan looked down to find the Little Fox staring up at her with wide, tear-filled eyes, thick lashes still glistening with tiny pearl-like droplets.

“Jiang Jiang, you…” Pei Xiangwan whispered, but her words were cut short as the Little Fox pushed her face away, clearly annoyed. Yet the cool, smooth touch of the girl’s hand felt strangely comforting, and Pei Xiangwan found herself covering Jiang Shiyuan’s small paw with her own.

“I don’t care what you think. You have to go home today. I promised your mother I’d take care of you while she’s at work.”

“I don’t need you!” The girl yanked her hand away from Ping Lan.

Unfazed, Ping Lan simply hoisted Jiang Shiyuan onto her shoulder. “Your opinion doesn’t matter.”

“Let me go! You’re violating my freedom!”

Pei Xiangwan was stunned. Is that it? Just pick her up and leave? She’s totally channeling a domineering female CEO drama.

While she’d been eagerly watching the drama unfold, Pei Xiangwan now felt like a wilted sunflower, her head drooping. She rummaged in her pocket and found the last candy—the kind she usually ate when she needed a boost while working on her drafts.

She peeled off the wrapper, revealing a rectangular, crystal-clear candy in a shimmering purple-pink hue.

The rustling of the wrapper caught the Little Fox’s attention, and she tilted her head.

Pei Xiangwan seized the opportunity and popped the candy into the girl’s mouth. Her fingertip brushed against the soft, pink marshmallow, and in her haste, she accidentally poked through it. The gooey filling clung to her finger, leaving a silvery strand that seemed to cling to her.

The extra candy in Jiang Shiyuan’s mouth was sweet and tart, not cloyingly sweet at all—it was raspberry flavored! Her fox-like eyes shone like lighthouses, but the thought of… made her cheeks flush uncontrollably.

“The candy is real, Jiang Jiang.”

Pei Xiangwan’s index finger gently brushed Jiang Shiyuan’s burning cheeks again and again. Her voice was like a soothing balm for pain and sorrow.

Yet this tenderness was a slow-acting poison, fostering dependence. Once withdrawn, it would leave one feeling worse than death.

How terrifying, Jiang Shiyuan thought. How terrifying. When had she become addicted? Was it now, or long ago? She knew the answer all too clearly.

It was the angel who had reached out to help her up when she fell, brushing the dust from her clothes.

It was the small figure who had stood before her, shielding her from bullies. It was the one who always wiped away her tears, indulging her every whim, no matter how unreasonable or childish, with unwavering companionship and those words:

“As long as it’s you, as long as you want it, I’ll be there for you. No one will ever hurt you.”

Back then, tears weren’t weapons… they were expressions of gratitude and emotion.

“I won’t leave you… saying ‘forever’ sounds too hollow. Let time decide.”

But time had brought only Jiang Shiyuan’s solitary performance. It was Pei Xiangwan who had spoken those words first—it was her.

Her feelings for Pei Xiangwan were no longer pure.

“Pei Xiangwan, you like it when I smile, don’t you?”

Pei Xiangwan nodded eagerly. “Of course, Jiang Jiang! You’re so beautiful.” She carefully scanned Jiang Shiyuan’s eyebrows, eyes, nose, and lips. “You’re truly stunning, even when you cry. But it’s too sad. Smiling suits you better.”

Though Jiang Shiyuan was smiling, the expression felt unsettling, though Pei Xiangwan couldn’t quite pinpoint why.

“Is that so? But there will be a price to pay for this.”

Pei Xiangwan was completely bewildered. “What do you mean? What price?”

Tears still streaked Jiang Shiyuan’s face. Pei Xiangwan reached out to wipe them away, and Jiang Shiyuan didn’t flinch as she replied.

“You have to pay to go to concerts, and you have to pay to buy things you like. Isn’t it the same with wanting me to smile?”

Pei Xiangwan pondered this, her head gradually drooping. A cold smile crept across Jiang Shiyuan’s lips as she tapped the red dot on her phone screen.

Pei Xiangwan realized Jiang Shiyuan had a point. Money didn’t matter as long as Jiang Shiyuan was happy, healthy, and lived a long life.

“You’re right, Jiang Jiang!”

Jiang Shiyuan gripped Pei Xiangwan’s white shirt tightly, her hands leaving deep creases in the smooth fabric.

Jiang Shiyuan’s radiant smile bloomed, her two small dimples resembling cherry blossoms being harvested by bees, their sweet nectar flowing out and filling Pei Xiangwan’s heart with warmth.

“Okay, I want you. For a lifetime.” Go ahead and get angry. She’ll definitely get angry. Let’s overturn everything this time.

Pei Xiangwan immediately agreed. Even if Jiang Shiyuan hadn’t asked, she would have spent the rest of her time with her.

“No problem.”

Jiang Shiyuan hadn’t expected Pei Xiangwan to agree so quickly. In the past, she would have said that a lifetime was too precious to give to someone else, then dropped her pretense and hurled insults.

“Jiang Jiang, don’t worry. Time will prove everything. Saying it sounds fake, but I’ll prove it with my actions!”

The emotions in Jiang Shiyuan’s eyes remained unreadable. “Okay.”

Can time really prove anything? I don’t believe it. If Pei Xiangwan wants to play this game, I’ll play along.

The sky remained as blue as ever, as clear and pristine as usual. Yet after just one night, the Little Fox seemed both changed and unchanged.

Pei Xiangwan stared at Jiang Shiyuan’s porcelain-white face, her long black hair tied into a neat bun, with a few strands framing her rosy earlobes, accentuating her graceful jawline and the pair of luminous collarbones beneath her swan-like neck.

Every movement Jiang Shiyuan made exuded a unique charm, drawing Pei Xiangwan in like a magnet.

“What’s wrong, Wanwan~?” Jiang Shiyuan turned to meet Pei Xiangwan’s gaze, her fair cheeks flushed as if dusted with blush, and a faint dimple deepened with her smile. The effect was like a refreshing summer drink—strawberry pear juice, its pale pink hue radiating a soothing warmth.

Pei Xiangwan finally understood what felt off. The intimate nickname still felt a little strange, but it meant Jiang Shiyuan was starting to trust her—a promising start!

“Nothing,” Pei Xiangwan said, avoiding Jiang Shiyuan’s eyes. Her gaze fell on the familiar bracelet still adorning Jiang Shiyuan’s wrist.

Jiang Shiyuan raised her arm, her fingertips tracing the butterfly wings. “It’s the gift Wanwan gave me after all this time. Of course I’d wear it.”

Seeing Pei Xiangwan’s silence, she continued, “Does it look bad? You’re not saying anything.”

Her arm suddenly felt drained of strength, collapsing limply. But then her wrist was grasped and gently lifted.

“It looks beautiful. Your wrist is perfect for it—or perhaps it’s more accurate to say that only you can truly wear it.”