If I Die, Will You Still Hate Me? - Chapter 11
“I can just cross your name out.”
Jiang Xuzhou originally intended to persuade Ye Xun to go down the mountain to rest, as the earlier incident had genuinely frightened them both. However, Ye Xun’s stance was that if anyone was going down, it should be Jiang Xuzhou, the patient.
Jiang Xuzhou couldn’t win against Ye Xun, so they both continued up the mountain. Initially, Jiang Xuzhou walked ahead with Ye Xun following, but by the latter half of the journey, Ye Xun had taken the lead.
When they passed a small stream, Ye Xun turned back and offered his hand, but he didn’t expect Jiang Xuzhou not to take it, choosing instead to step across the stones on his own.
Ye Xun awkwardly clapped his hands, mentally making a note of Jiang Xuzhou’s slight with great displeasure.
Walking and resting, they finally arrived at Jiang Zhong’s tombstone around noon.
Tan Hui was old and her health wasn’t suited for climbing mountains, so during festivals, she would only burn some paper money at the foot of the mountain as a gesture. Consequently, the area around Jiang Zhong’s grave was overgrown with weeds.
Jiang Xuzhou placed the basket down, retrieved a shovel from it, and began clearing the weeds, saying, “Grandpa, I’ve come to see you…” He glanced at Ye Xun out of the corner of his eye, “…and Xiao Xun.”
He didn’t know the reason for Ye Xun accompanying him. He couldn’t guess, assuming it was probably to play the role fully—comforting Tan Hui and now coming to comfort Jiang Zhong as well.
But some things were easier to say to the dead than to the living. Thus, Jiang Zhong knew the whole story and its outcome sooner than Tan Hui.
Ye Xun used a tissue to wipe the words on the tombstone. He had never met Jiang Zhong, yet his name was carved on the stone—
Jiang Xuzhou had commissioned it later. He had said that since they were to spend the rest of their lives together, it should be made public.
Ye Xun quickly wiped over his own name with a tissue. Each stroke was carved onto his heart like a chisel, raw and bleeding. Jiang Xuzhou’s peripheral glance caught him wiping his name without any visible emotion, and he assumed Ye Xun found it an eyesore.
Jiang Xuzhou cleared his throat and said, “When we move Grandpa’s grave next year, I can just cross your name out.”
Ye Xun’s brain was slow to react and he asked, “Why?”
Jiang Xuzhou was equally stunned by the sudden question: “Why what?”
Ye Xun’s sluggish mind suddenly caught up. He understood Jiang Xuzhou’s meaning: he was afraid of Cheng Zhaolin getting jealous, afraid his past impulsiveness would hinder Ye Xun’s romantic prospects.
As for his relationship with Cheng Zhaolin, Ye Xun wasn’t ready to explain. The timing wasn’t right, and he enjoyed seeing Jiang Xuzhou’s look of disappointment upon discovering he had a partner.
However, why Jiang Xuzhou was disappointed was no longer his concern.
Ye Xun didn’t answer Jiang Xuzhou’s query, continuing to silently handle the task at hand. When he finished and reached for the paper money, he realized it wasn’t in the basket.
Jiang Xuzhou finished weeding, supported his lower back, and straightened up. He frowned, waiting for the dizziness to pass, then said, “There was a big wildfire in the mountains the year before last. They don’t allow burning paper money anymore.”
Ye Xun looked down at the empty basket, puzzled: “What do we do next?”
Jiang Xuzhou also realized he had forgotten to bring flowers. He pinched the bridge of his nose, helplessly saying, “I’ll go pick some wildflowers nearby as a gesture.”
Although the temperature in Mo City was inconsistent, it had technically entered spring, and wildflowers were easy to find. Before long, Jiang Xuzhou had picked a large bunch and placed them in the dirt.
“Grandpa, please bless Xiao Xun with health and safety,” Jiang Xuzhou unconsciously spoke the familiar words.
Ye Xun’s movements paused. He silently added a line in his heart, “Jiang Xuzhou also needs to be safe and healthy.”
He repeated it eight times in his heart, making up for everything he had failed to say over the past four years.
Jiang Xuzhou glanced back at Ye Xun cautiously, seemingly waiting for him to say the words he used to say, but he didn’t.
He couldn’t deny the pang of disappointment, but he maintained a calm exterior.
He thought he should get used to this solitary life soon, and also accept a future without Ye Xun.
Jiang Xuzhou remembered the thin diagnosis report and the light, airy outcome.
Would he even have a future?
Ye Xun shrugged and sat on a nearby rock, wiping the sweat from his brow, observing Jiang Xuzhou who was sitting dejectedly in front of the tombstone, lost in thought.
After an unknown amount of time, Jiang Xuzhou walked over to Ye Xun and pulled a milk candy from his pocket: “Want one?”
“Is it poisoned?” Ye Xun looked at the hand in front of him, and the candy resting quietly in his palm.
This brand of milk candy was his favorite. When they lived together, he would buy a lot and scatter them in various corners of the house, occasionally popping one in his mouth.
He was surprised that Jiang Xuzhou still carried this brand of candy, as he remembered Jiang Xuzhou strongly disliked milk candy.
Jiang Xuzhou’s fingers twitched upon hearing Ye Xun’s words, wanting to close but opening again. He analyzed the tone in which Ye Xun had spoken.
In the end, Ye Xun didn’t take the candy. He inexplicably enjoyed Jiang Xuzhou’s fleeting look of regret, however brief it was.
Afterward, all the way back to the old house, Jiang Xuzhou didn’t utter a word. Ye Xun didn’t find anything strange about it. They had nothing to talk about, except for that one misunderstanding.
The opportunity for an explanation had been given the night they broke up. If Jiang Xuzhou didn’t want to explain, then they should cut all ties.
In matters of the heart, Ye Xun considered himself unconflicted. He always believed one shouldn’t hang on a single tree. If this one didn’t work, move to the next. He would eventually meet the right person.
But clearly, Jiang Xuzhou was not like that.
He could tell Jiang Xuzhou was constantly showing weakness, silently enduring all his retaliation like a ball of cotton. Because Ye Xun never hid his hatred for Jiang Xuzhou. If Jiang Xuzhou had bothered to spend a little time and effort investigating, he would have discovered that everything was his doing.
But Jiang Xuzhou hadn’t. He was even continually trying to make amends—through Ye Wenmao, Nie Xialan, Jiang Zhong, and in every possible way.
Ye Xun searched his heart: what did Jiang Xuzhou need to do for him to forgive everything from four years ago?
The answer was certainly not for Jiang Xuzhou to die, but it was close. He might need Jiang Xuzhou to sacrifice everything, such as the Baiwen Group and all his fame and fortune, after clearly explaining himself.
He stretched his neck, slightly dissatisfied with his own answer.
“Ye Xun,” Jiang Xuzhou gently called him, pulling him out of his thoughts. “Could you take some food to Grandma later?”
Ye Xun nodded, watching Jiang Xuzhou open the refrigerator, take out minced meat and vegetables, and walk into the kitchen.
Jiang Xuzhou possessed a skill that completely contradicted his CEO status—cooking, and at a level good enough to open a restaurant.
His dishes were perfect in color, aroma, and taste, mastering every technique. When the Baiwen Group was first starting, Jiang Xuzhou was constantly worried about funding. Ye Xun often comforted him by saying, “It’s no big deal if we go bankrupt. We’ll just open a restaurant. We can still make a fortune by making it a chain.”
However, the times Ye Xun ate his cooking were rare, because Jiang Xuzhou was too busy—too busy to even eat himself, let alone cook for anyone else.
Looks like I’m in for a treat today.
Ye Xun’s interest was suddenly piqued, and he walked into the kitchen.
Jiang Xuzhou caught sight of a figure. The fireplace in his heart was suddenly stuffed with kindling, burning fiercely.
Yet, he maintained a calm expression: “There’s a lot of smoke. You can take the food after I’ve packed it.”
“It’s fine. I’ll help you with the fire,” Ye Xun floated out a casual remark.
Jiang Xuzhou’s internal fire burned even hotter. He glanced at the gas stove next to him and swallowed his refusal.
Ye Xun leaned against the doorframe, watching Jiang Xuzhou busy himself at the stove. Jiang Xuzhou had changed into a black turtleneck sweater and suit pants. The only incongruous item was the pink apron with white floral prints tied around his waist.
This outfit was a visual shock. Ye Xun covered his slight smile with a half-clenched fist against the bridge of his nose.
Jiang Xuzhou was unaware of Ye Xun’s hidden amusement behind him. He was busy dealing with the eggplant in his hand.
After finally preparing the dishes, he quickly glanced back, noticing Ye Xun looking down at his phone, dealing with messages.
Alright, so he’s just waiting to be fed.
After quickly replying to his parents’ messages and handling company matters, Ye Xun looked up and continued to stare at Jiang Xuzhou’s back.
If one ignored the floral apron, Jiang Xuzhou’s outfit was actually very good-looking, making his legs look long and his waist trim.
He couldn’t help but recall a day, long ago, when Jiang Xuzhou had a rare day off and, even rarer, felt inspired to cook for him.
He had followed Jiang Xuzhou into the kitchen, leaned against the wall next to him, and rambled about the things that had happened recently. Jiang Xuzhou smiled faintly, responding with a few words now and then.
The sunset streamed through the window, casting Jiang Xuzhou’s profile sharply onto the white tiles, an indescribable handsomeness. His hair, unfixed by gel, hung over his eyebrows, moving with his actions. The sleeves of his dark blue pajamas were rolled up to his elbows, revealing pale yet strong forearms.
Although Jiang Xuzhou hadn’t had his heart surgery at the time, under Ye Xun’s careful care, his physical condition was very good, and he had put on some weight.
Ye Xun couldn’t help but get lost in the sight. When Jiang Xuzhou noticed his voice fading, he turned his head in confusion and asked, “And then?”
And then? Ye Xun didn’t remember. Maybe he had kissed him, and they ended up not eating dinner, or maybe they did.
Jiang Xuzhou packed the fried rice into a thermos, rinsed his hands, and handed it to Ye Xun: “Here you go.”
He didn’t say ‘be quick’ or ‘be careful on the road’. His dark eyes simply stared at Ye Xun, his thin lips pursed, as if enduring something.
Seeing that Ye Xun hadn’t taken the food container, he offered an unsolicited update: “I’ll take a shower in a moment, then eat and rest.”
Ye Xun remembered another reason why Jiang Xuzhou rarely cooked: he didn’t like the smell of food clinging to his body, and his hands were no exception.
The promise to eat and rest was probably meant to reassure him, seeing as he had actively helped him cool his food these past two days. It’s a pity, but he’s just misinterpreting the situation. Ye Xun sneered inwardly. For me, this is just a show for Tan Hui, but Jiang Xuzhou has turned it into a sweet dream.