After Transmigrating, I Became The Heroine’s First Love! - Chapter 7

Jiang Shiyuan stood alone in the sunlight, her entire being radiating a pale, almost mournful glow. Her eyes were fixed on a single point: a white bowl brimming with water before a small thicket.

The thicket held a mystical allure, a gateway to another world where tiny lives might emerge.

But they had vanished… A wave of unease washed over her.

“Jiang Jiang, what are you staring at so intently?”

Pei Xiangwan, basking in the sun on the balcony, noticed Jiang Shiyuan standing motionless at the doorway for an extended period. Sensing no intention of her returning inside, curiosity piqued her interest.

Jiang Shiyuan remained oblivious to Pei Xiangwan’s approach until she spoke, finally snapping her out of her trance. She turned to gaze at Pei Xiangwan.

Her ponytail bounced against her shoulder with each movement, a vibrant contrast to her own subdued demeanor.

She pressed her lips together, offering a muffled “hmm” without further explanation, yet her gaze remained fixed on Pei Xiangwan’s face.

Tracing the contours of her features, as if trying to etch Pei Xiangwan’s face into the depths of her memory.

Pei Xiangwan was beautiful—effortlessly, flamboyantly so. She wore little makeup, her hair casually pinned up with a claw clip, a few unruly strands framing her cheeks. Jiang Shiyuan adored her eyes most of all: dark, luminous orbs like bottomless whirlpools brimming with love.

Yet those same eyes were what Jiang Shiyuan hated most. Their owner was too affectionate, too generous with her gaze. She wished she could pluck them out and make them belong to her alone.

In just a moment, Pei Xiangwan saw the shifting storm clouds on Jiang Shiyuan’s face.

“What are you staring at, Jiang Jiang? Your arms are getting red from standing in the sun so long.” Pei Xiangwan pulled Jiang Shiyuan into the shade.

Jiang Shiyuan murmured, “I was looking at Snowball’s bowl. It must be so hungry—it hasn’t eaten anything.”

Standing beside her, Pei Xiangwan heard her clearly. Noticing the little fox’s distressed expression, she tried to reassure her.

“Don’t worry. If it’s hungry, it’ll find food. Maybe it just went out to play and will be back in a few days.”

“Snowball would never stay away this long. It’s been five days, and the food I left for it hasn’t been touched.”

I really hate it—I hate Pei Xiangwan’s calm, watery gaze and her detached attitude.

The floodgates of her eyes opened, tears gushing forth. A gentle breeze swept past, bringing a chill that pierced straight to her heart.

“Do you even know that Snowball is ours…?” She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.

Pei Xiangwan hastily pulled Jiang Shiyuan close, drawing her against her chest. Their bodies pressed together as she clumsily tried to wipe away the tears, but they flowed endlessly, like a fountain.

“I know, Snowball is…” Pei Xiangwan glanced at the cat food on the floor. “…a kitten, right?”

Jiang Shiyuan slapped her hand away, dissatisfied with the answer, and wiped her face haphazardly.

Pei Xiangwan continued, “I’ll help you find Snowball, okay? He’ll come back. He has to.”

Jiang Shiyuan looked up, her eyes rimmed with tears, the whites streaked with red. “Have you forgotten?” she demanded.

Before Pei Xiangwan could answer, she laughed bitterly. “You’re right. No one can live in the past forever. You moved on long ago. Only I’m stuck, clinging to the past and refusing to wake up.”

The wind howled mournfully, weeping for Jiang Shiyuan.

A sudden, agonizing pain gripped Pei Xiangwan’s heart. She clutched her chest as if she had violated a celestial law and was being punished. Her once rosy complexion turned deathly pale in an instant, and her legs buckled beneath her.

Thump! She collapsed to her knees, gritting her teeth so hard they audibly ground together.

The sight terrified Jiang Shiyuan. Her tears stopped as she rushed forward, her trembling hand reaching out to touch Pei Xiangwan’s. The woman’s skin felt ice-cold, as if she were touching a corpse. Jiang Shiyuan stammered, “You… don’t scare me like that. You were just… just fine a moment ago.”

“Jiang… Jiang, I’m okay,” Pei Xiangwan managed to reply, squinting through the pain. Sweat dripped onto the withered leaves beneath her.

“I’ll have Uncle Ming drive us to the hospital right now!” But the pale figure before her grabbed her hand and shook her head.

“You’re in this state! Why won’t you go to the hospital? Pei Xiangwan, what are you even thinking?!” Jiang Shiyuan’s worry and anxiety paralyzed her, preventing her from moving.

The silence was absolute, like the end of the world. Only the two of them remained, their breaths and heart-wrenching sobs the only sounds in the desolate landscape.

“I’m really okay. Maybe it’s just heatstroke. Can you hold me again, Jiang Jiang?”

Pei Xiangwan’s pain gradually subsided, no longer as intense as before. She was puzzled by this sudden change, as it was the first time it had happened since she arrived here.

Had she triggered something? It shouldn’t be possible. Though every time Jiang Shiyuan cried, Pei Xiangwan felt unbearable distress, wanting to hit herself and cry along with her.

Could it be caused by Jiang Shiyuan’s emotional fluctuations? Before she could figure it out, she was interrupted.

Jiang Shiyuan hugged her tightly, her arms squeezing Pei Xiangwan’s slender waist so hard it was difficult to breathe.

“Jiang Jiang Jiang Jiang, loosen up a little… I can’t breathe.”

Jiang Shiyuan obediently eased her grip. Seeing Pei Xiangwan’s complexion gradually return to normal, she let out a relieved sigh.

“I’m so scared, Pei Xiangwan,” she whispered.

The words drifted on the breeze, reaching a butterfly perched on a rose. The butterfly fluttered its wings and carried the secret away.

“I know, I know, Jiang Jiang. It won’t happen again. I’m sorry for scaring you,” Pei Xiangwan said, patting Jiang Shiyuan’s back soothingly.

My daughter is so kind, still worried about me. Waaah, I’m going to cry myself to death. The world can’t exist without girls.

Pei Xiangwan suddenly realized, “Hey! Jiang Jiang, did you just call me by my name?”

Jiang Shiyuan pulled back from the hug and asked, “What?”

Pei Xiangwan’s eyes sparkled with amusement as she pointed at herself. “You called me by my name!” In all the days they’d spent together, Jiang Shiyuan had never once used her name, and her words had been painfully few.

Jiang Shiyuan was momentarily speechless, her disgust meter maxing out as she stared at Pei Xiangwan, who was grinning like a fool. She immediately stood up.

“Hey, hey, hey! Jiang Jiang, just one more hug! Just one!” Pei Xiangwan tugged at Jiang Shiyuan’s pant leg.

“Just one more,” Pei Xiangwan pleaded, her eyes wide and pitiful. It wasn’t that she was a pervert; it was just that the little fox always smelled so sweet and felt so soft.

“Oh, playing games, are we? This is a first for me,” a woman remarked, watching them with amusement.

Jiang Shiyuan glanced at the woman, then looked down at Pei Xiangwan, who was blinking innocently, her cheeks flushed crimson.

This scene could easily be misinterpreted as a lovers’ quarrel, with Pei Xiangwan groveling to keep her partner from leaving.

Jiang Shiyuan reached out and pulled Pei Xiangwan to her feet. Pei Xiangwan remained dazed throughout the entire exchange, first inexplicably glared at, then abruptly hauled up without warning.

“Wait…”

“Looks like you two have made up again. I hope you won’t quarrel anymore.” Lin Su’s voice was slightly hoarse, her eyes crinkling into crescent moons when she smiled.

But the smile didn’t reach her heart, appearing forced and fake, filling Pei Xiangwan with an inexplicable disgust.

Jiang Shiyuan obediently called out, “Sister Lin.”

“Mm,” Lin Su replied, her gaze shifting to Pei Xiangwan, as if waiting for her.

Pei Xiangwan followed suit, calling out, “Sister Lin.”

“Alright, you two can continue playing. I’ll be going now.”

Pei Xiangwan stared at Lin Su’s retreating figure—a vision of fiery allure in her tight white shirt and figure-hugging skirt. The defined muscles of her legs drew attention wherever she went. Yet three claw marks marred her fair calves, and several bean-sized red spots dotted her shirt.

“Have you stared enough?”