I Redeemed Him, But Who Will Redeem Me? - Chapter 14

For many days afterward, she kept seeing Li Ci at school.

He was like a ghost, drifting through her life, enjoying the malicious manipulation of her emotions. Her anger, her disgust, her fear—all became his playthings.

The other students weren’t particularly surprised by Li Ci’s appearances; they just marveled at how often he came looking for his girlfriend. Every time he appeared, it caused a stir. Naïve girls would post long threads on the school forum, gushing and gossiping about the seemingly dreamlike romance between him and Xu Tian.

This continued for a while. Perhaps feeling it wasn’t enough, one day after school, Lin Xicai returned home to find her mother absent. After asking the other housemaids, she learned that Uncle Wang had been accidentally bumped by someone on the road and had broken a leg. Her mother had gone to the hospital to visit.

Lin Xicai had assumed it was an accident, but the next day, when she went to the hospital to check, the person responsible was there—and behind them stood Li Ci. Everything became clear to her.

As the two of them walked out of the ward, Lin Xicai turned to him. “Was it you?”

Li Ci smiled. “The culprit is my friend. I’m sorry about it.”

Lin Xicai suddenly felt exhausted. “Just because someone accidentally spilled a little water on you?”

The unpleasant smile faded from Li Ci’s face, and he leaned in slightly. “Isn’t that enough?”

“But you said it was fine.”

“I know,” Li Ci said, gently ruffling her hair as he explained in a tender voice, “if it were a real problem, he wouldn’t just be lying here.”

All the subtle malice was delivered with the gentlest of tones, slipping into her ears.

Lin Xicai’s body tensed—not sure if it was from anger or shock.

She opened her mouth. “Sara was fierce with you, yet you’re generous even to a dog. Why do this to a person…”

Li Ci frowned, glancing at her curiously. “A dog is still the Fu family’s dog. And what is that person?”

Lin Xicai fell silent. She would never understand him. She could never comprehend his thoughts or all the motives behind his actions.

This person was like an unpruned sapling, growing wildly, inherently carrying a raw, untrained cruelty in his bones.

Lin Xicai looked at him and suddenly thought of Xie Shi. Xie Shi was solitary and cold; although he had an antisocial personality trait, it wasn’t obvious yet. She knew that as long as she didn’t provoke him, he wouldn’t pick a fight.

But this person was different. Once he focused on someone, he would hold on like a venomous snake, forcing them to follow him step by step.

“Can you tell me the reason?”

Lin Xicai looked at him steadily. “I want the real reason. Why? Why me?”

“Because your gaze is different from everyone else’s here,” Li Ci leaned in, scrutinizing her eyes as if admiring a pair of intricately crafted glass ornaments in a museum. “Has anyone ever told you that even when you smile, your eyes carry a certain inherent indifference and disdain? I hate your eyes—and I hate that they belong to the daughter of a servant.”

Lin Xicai remained expressionless. The shadows cast by the corridor’s light and Li Ci sliced her face into two halves—one faintly illuminated, the other hidden in darkness—creating a paradoxical beauty.

Like an innocent, gradually awakening fairy.

She stared at him, and, for the first time, smiled at him faintly. “Are you sure you want this?”

Li Ci was momentarily stunned. Then the corner of his mouth lifted slightly, his tone carrying a deliberately intimate lilt. “Tomorrow afternoon, PE class, abandoned equipment room.”

Lin Xicai nodded and, after a moment, responded calmly, “Alright then.”

…

“Why are you going out so late?”

After dinner, Lin Xicai sat in the garden for a while before changing into her sportswear and heading out. Zhong Ping, seeing her, couldn’t help but ask, “Running at this hour?”

Lin Xicai walked out, somewhat absent-minded. “Can’t sleep. Need to burn some energy.”

“It’s cold at night—wear more. Stay nearby, don’t run too far,” Zhong Ping chattered.

Lin Xicai responded a few times and zipped up her jacket, then left.

The Fu family villa wasn’t far from the Fengling River. Lin Xicai hadn’t planned to run far, yet she ended up at the riverbank.

The moon hung high in the sky, the river glimmered, and fallen leaves along the shore glowed gold and red. The autumn wind blew through, creating a beautiful scene—but Lin Xicai had no mood to appreciate it.

She ran along the riverbank for a while, sweating, her nose slightly red from the chill. As she slowed down to catch her breath, a figure caught her attention.

The figure stood at the water’s edge, wearing a dark blue light jacket, long hair draped over the shoulders, slightly messy from the wind, head lowered, seemingly lost in thought, face obscured.

The figure was tall and slender, almost fragile, giving the impression that a strong gust could sweep her into the river.

Lin Xicai watched her for a while before approaching. “What are you doing here?”

Xu Tian seemed startled, showing a mild startle response, her face pale.

Lin Xicai softened slightly at the sight. “What a coincidence. I thought I was the only one running at this hour.”

Xu Tian pressed her lips together, staring at the calm river, replying indirectly: “The day-night temperature difference is big now; the river water must be pretty cold at night.”

Lin Xicai furrowed her brows, pausing. “What happened?”

Xu Tian studied her for a moment, seemingly judging if she was trustworthy. After a pause, she said calmly, “This Saturday is my birthday. He asked if I wanted to go to a hotel to celebrate.”

Li Ci’s question—but they all knew it wasn’t a choice.

Going to a hotel for her birthday—his intentions were almost blatant, and the implications obvious.

“Saturday…” Lin Xicai murmured the date. “That’s in three days. Maybe something will change.”

Xu Tian curled the corners of her lips, calm, numb, resigned. “What change could there be?”

“Maybe there will be?” Lin Xicai said, her eyes burning with a strange certainty. “The Fengling River isn’t going anywhere. What’s three more days?”

Three days?

To wait for what?

A god descending from the heavens?

Or a miracle?

Xu Tian didn’t feel Lin Xicai’s certainty had any basis, but she still appreciated the comfort the girl offered.

Lin Xicai sat on a flat stone by the river, took out some tissue from her pocket, and laid it on the stone. Patting the spot, she looked at Xu Tian: “Sit with me for a bit.”

Xu Tian did so.

The two sat side by side, facing the river, in silence.

They weren’t close, but surprisingly, the silence wasn’t awkward.

Lin Xicai asked her a few questions intermittently; Xu Tian answered each. Occasionally, Lin Xicai looked up and noticed how unusually beautiful the moon was—full, bright, and perfectly out of place.

After a while, a food delivery e-bike suddenly stopped beside them.

Xu Tian was slightly surprised as Lin Xicai took a small box from the delivery person. Inside was a delicate four-inch birthday cake, simply decorated with just the words “Happy Birthday.”

Lin Xicai ignored Xu Tian’s shy, awkward expression, opened the box, inserted candles, and said casually, “Everyone knows your birthday. Can’t just ignore it…”

The small, delicate cake was held out in front of her. Lin Xicai spoke flatly: “Make a wish.”

Xu Tian stared at Lin Xicai and the flickering candlelight, hesitating.

Lin Xicai clicked her tongue. “Not giving me any face?”

Xu Tian pressed her lips, finally closing her eyes, hands clasped over her chest, and earnestly made a wish in the moonlight.

The autumn wind helped extinguish the candles. The two quietly shared the cake by the river.

At the end, Lin Xicai methodically tidied up the trash and put it in a bag.

“Let’s go home,” she said. “Your wish will come true.”

…

The next day, during the third period, PE class had the usual two-lap run before the teacher dismissed everyone.

The crowd dispersed slowly. Lin Xicai walked up two steps to the male PE monitor, whispering a few words to him.

The monitor’s expression changed, and Lin Xicai said a few more words. The monitor nodded seriously.

Then, Lin Xicai left the crowd, heading in the opposite direction of the playground.

On the third floor of the gym, the farthest room was an abandoned equipment room—rumored to have been the scene of a past incident. Over time, embellished stories turned it into a place of superstition, and it was rarely used.

Lin Xicai had no objection to the place Li Ci chose. She didn’t believe in ghosts—humans were far more difficult to deal with.

The equipment room hadn’t been maintained for years, unlocked, with the smell of damp dust. Li Ci was inside, blending into the grayness and dust.

“You’re always so rude, making me wait 24 minutes,” Li Ci said.

“Why don’t you say you came early?” Lin Xicai replied.

Li Ci smiled faintly. The previously lazy figure leaning against a table straightened, walking toward her in slow, deliberate steps, like a form of playful torment.

His gaze fell on her face, seeking something that would excite him.

But she stood there, unmoving, not taking the bait.

He stopped less than half a meter away, slightly leaning in, his voice carrying the same familiar intimacy and flirtation. “Do you know why I asked you to come here?”

His gaze fell near her ear. “Because there’s no surveillance. No one can see what we’re doing.”

Lin Xicai tilted her head slightly, their breaths colliding in the air. Her voice was soft: “Do you know why I agreed to come here?”

She suddenly looked up into his eyes, smiling: “Coincidentally, it’s also because there’s no surveillance. No one can see what we’re doing.”

This was the first time they were this close, and she hadn’t flinched.

Li Ci lowered his eyes uncontrollably, his gaze drifting to her long, curled eyelashes, then sliding down to her moist lips.

She smiled faintly, a sweetness tinged with eeriness.

In the dim, damp, dilapidated room, she seemed like a slowly emerging fairy.

In previous encounters, he could clearly feel her fear, anxiety, irritation, and disgust. He tirelessly toyed with her emotions.

But today, everything was calm.

Her emotions were no longer manipulated, instead showing a subtle, emerging dominance.

Like a candy, unwrapped to reveal a beautiful poison inside.

This strange, indescribable feeling intrigued Li Ci.

“Li Ci.”

She suddenly called his name seriously.

Then, calmly, as if stating the most natural of truths: “You asked me to come here, and I did. Now it’s your turn to follow me somewhere.”

Li Ci stared. “Where?”

“To a place you belong.”

The silver ring on Lin Xicai’s pinky glinted.

Li Ci’s eyes seemed to flash with a white light, growing brighter, expanding in his vision, enveloping and consuming him.

It consumed his body and his consciousness, dispersing his awareness as if influenced by some unseen energy.

In the last moment of dispersed consciousness, he seemed to think: this is the first time someone has called his name…

The surroundings were silent. The abandoned equipment room held only dust and her.

Lin Xicai lifted her hand slightly, squinting at the ring on her pinky, admiring it like a treasured piece of jewelry.

—The system had given her this space, and this was how it was used. She was quite surprised herself.

…

At the same time, on the playground, under the shade of a tree, a figure suddenly stiffened.

Xie Shi opened his eyes. His amber pupils contracted sharply, his Adam’s apple moving involuntarily.

Like a meteor streaking across a silent night sky, a flash of light scorched through all his expectations.

Complex, intense emotions erupted in his eyes.

Like a storm raging over the sea—calm was impossible.

He almost forgot she had that object on her hand.

Even more incredible was that she had used it in this way.

He had imagined she would come to him for help, to the Fu family, or endure silently, or become hysterical… but she had avoided all his expectations, using an innocent, harmless expression to make such a decision.

He felt shocked, astonished, and even…

Overly excited.