If I Die, Will You Still Hate Me? - Chapter 8
“Jiang Xuzhou! Can you hear me?”…
After Jiang Xuzhou’s reminder, Ye Xun realized it had been a long time since he’d been home.
He decided to take advantage of a light day on Monday to go back and visit.
When he opened the front door, he saw warm yellow light bathing the dining room, and several steaming dishes were already laid out on the table. He let out a long sigh, rubbed his frozen face with a cold hand, and put on a smiling face as he walked in.
“Dad,” he called out toward the kitchen, and casually picked up a piece of beef from the table and tossed it into his mouth. “…The beef is too salty.”
Ye Wenmao replied with a grunt, a cigarette hanging from his mouth.
Ye Xun then asked, “Where’s Mom?” He glanced at Ye Wenmao, who was bringing a dish out. “Why are you smoking again? Didn’t you say you were going to quit for good?”
“She went out, but should be back soon,” Ye Wenmao stubbed out the cigarette in the ashtray, replying with a smile. “I’ve been a heavy smoker for decades; you can’t just quit that easily.”
Ye Xun casually dumped the overflowing ashtray on the table into the trash can: “Smoking is hazardous to your health.”
No sooner had he finished speaking than the front door opened, and before he saw anyone, he heard a woman’s happy voice say: “I’m home!”
“Mom.” Ye Xun got up and went to the door to take the large bags Nie Xialan was carrying—his mother always bought him a lot of his favorite fruits and vegetables whenever he came home.
Nie Xialan changed into her slippers, looked at her long-unseen son with appreciation, and patted his shoulder with satisfaction, saying, “You’ve grown again.”
Ye Xun: “…”
Nie Xialan pretended not to see Ye Xun’s helpless expression and continued to pry: “How’s life been recently? Do you have a partner?”
“Mom,” Ye Xun called out helplessly, trying to awaken a trace of maternal empathy. “I really don’t want to be in a relationship right now.”
Ye Wenmao took off his apron and sat next to Ye Xun, serving him and Nie Xialan rice. He said, “What was the name of that ex of yours? I thought he was a good person.”
Ye Xun moved his surprised gaze from Nie Xialan to Ye Wenmao.
Currently, only two people had earned such high praise from Ye Wenmao: Nie Xialan, and now Jiang Xuzhou. Even Ye Xun, his own son, hadn’t received this “good person” assessment.
What kind of love potion did Jiang Xuzhou give his dad?
“Last name Jiang? Is it the CEO of the Baiwen Group?” Nie Xialan recalled, nudging Ye Xun with her elbow. “Say something, son.”
Ye Xun nodded.
“He’s been visiting us often over the years. Last time your mother was hospitalized, he even went to see her,” Ye Wenmao pointed to a box of fruit on the kitchen shelf. “This is what he brought us last time he visited.”
Nie Xialan’s hospitalization was three years ago. She suddenly felt nauseous and had abdominal pain at work, but she didn’t want to interrupt her job, so she kept putting it off. That period coincided with Ye Xun’s company being in its start-up phase; he was busy day and night, practically eating, drinking, and sleeping in the office, and Ye Wenmao, having just retired, also rushed to help him. It wasn’t until Nie Xialan developed a high fever that she realized she should go to the hospital. A checkup revealed acute appendicitis that had perforated, requiring open surgery.
It was also at that time that Ye Wenmao, after a night of deep thought, decided to leave his son and care for his wife.
Nie Xialan corrected Ye Wenmao: “No, he was the one who drove me to the hospital.”
It was the rainy season in Mochi City back then. Nie Xialan’s workplace was in the suburbs, and the ride-hailing app on her phone couldn’t summon a nearby car. Sitting dizzily at the bus stop, staring blankly at the rain curtain, a black SUV suddenly pulled up in front of her. Jiang Xuzhou got out of the driver’s seat, holding a black umbrella, and walked up to her. His voice was gentle: “Auntie Nie, I happened to be passing by. I can drive you.”
She looked up, struggling to discern that the person in front of her was her son’s ex-boyfriend.
Experience is the best doctor. Jiang Xuzhou could tell Nie Xialan was sick at a glance, so he continued to persuade her: “It’s raining so heavily now, and who knows when you’ll get a taxi. Plus, you shouldn’t delay seeing a doctor when you’re sick. Why not take my car to the hospital?”
Later, thanks to Jiang Xuzhou’s connections, she was admitted to a private room.
Ye Wenmao concluded: “All in all, President Jiang is a really good person and worthy of your trust.”
Ye Xun silently poked the sweet and sour pork ribs in his bowl with his chopsticks.
He had heard almost none of these things. As for his mother being admitted to a private room, he hadn’t thought much of it, assuming his father had gritted his teeth and paid for it, fearing his mother couldn’t handle a shared ward.
Now, he felt Jiang Xuzhou was even more inexplicable.
It was reasonable for Jiang Xuzhou to do these things when they were dating, but what was the purpose of him continuing to do so after they broke up? What was he trying to achieve?
“You know, we broke up four years ago,” Ye Xun said, frowning.
He disliked his parents interfering in his relationship problems.
Besides, was being abruptly dumped something to be proud of?
Nie Xialan put down her chopsticks and said seriously: “A breakup can be resolved, and a divorce can lead to reconciliation. Most importantly, missing out on such a good person would be a lifelong regret.”
“He was the one who broke up with me,” Ye Xun said.
Nie Xialan and Ye Wenmao fell silent instantly. After a moment, Nie Xialan slapped her thigh and exclaimed: “He wants to get back together now!”
Ye Xun’s hand, holding the chopsticks, trembled, and the food dropped to the floor. He grabbed some tissues and bent down to clean it up.
Wants to get back together? Ye Xun didn’t think it was likely.
If Jiang Xuzhou wanted to reconcile, the simplest, most direct, and most necessary thing he should do first was find him and explain the misunderstanding from four years ago, not beat around the bush with all these worthless things.
He wrapped the fallen food in the tissues, threw it in the trash can, and denied it: “No, he doesn’t.”
Seeing Ye Xun’s reaction, Nie Xialan and Ye Wenmao didn’t press the matter further.
The three sat together and chatted briefly, after which Ye Xun got up to say goodbye.
A week later, Ye Xun finished work early, went home, and quickly packed himself and his luggage.
He stood in front of the mirror, trying hard to manipulate his expression, but found he couldn’t return to his former self—he wondered if Jiang Xuzhou’s grandmother would notice the change in him.
Time had taken too much; no amount of effort could bring it back.
Ye Xun washed his face, choosing to give up, and waited for Jiang Xuzhou at the door with his luggage.
Jiang Xuzhou was always punctual. The familiar black SUV was parked at the entrance of Ye Xun’s residential complex—because Ye Xun hadn’t given Jiang Xuzhou a gate card, and Jiang Xuzhou had no reason or courage to ask for one.
“I’ll drive,” Ye Xun said, putting his luggage in the back and opening the driver’s door.
He genuinely didn’t trust a person who was just recovering from a serious illness to drive.
Jiang Xuzhou nodded, moving to the passenger seat.
The car automatically recognized the person and adjusted to the driving position Ye Xun was accustomed to.
This time, Ye Xun wasn’t as surprised as before. After all, Jiang Xuzhou’s car could save three positions: the first for Jiang Xuzhou’s driver, the second for Jiang Xuzhou, and the third for him. Jiang Xuzhou wouldn’t be bored enough to specially go to the car and delete his position information.
Besides, if he hadn’t deleted the facial recognition data on his phone, would he bother deleting the driver’s seat position information?
Tan Hui lived in the countryside, more than fifty kilometers from Mochi City center, about an hour and a half drive away.
Ye Xun casually picked a playlist and started it; soft English songs filled the space.
Jiang Xuzhou, now in the passenger seat, was leaning back, pretending to nap, his long eyelashes slightly trembling—he wasn’t sleeping soundly.
Taking advantage of a red light, Ye Xun turned his head to glance at Jiang Xuzhou. Jiang Xuzhou’s facial features were sharp, with single eyelids, upturned outer corners, a high nose bridge, and thin lips.
Wait, Ye Xun suddenly noticed something was wrong. Why were Jiang Xuzhou’s lips a bluish-purple color?
He cursed under his breath, pulled the car over to the side of the road, set the parking brake, and anxiously patted Jiang Xuzhou’s shoulder: “Jiang Xuzhou! Can you hear me?”
In that moment, Ye Xun frantically prayed in his heart. He did not want Jiang Xuzhou to faint in the car.
“Hm?” Jiang Xuzhou slowly opened his eyes. “What is it?”
Ye Xun’s voice was filled with anxiety. He gripped Jiang Xuzhou’s shoulders with both hands: “How do you feel right now? Don’t keep it to yourself.”
According to Jiang Xuzhou’s old habit, he would hold in any discomfort until he was about to faint or couldn’t bear it anymore before softly telling Ye Xun.
“…Nothing,” Jiang Xuzhou regulated his breathing and added, “I’m not keeping anything to myself.”
Ye Xun didn’t quite believe him: “Really?”
Jiang Xuzhou promised: “Really.”
“Then why are your lips bluish-purple?” Ye Xun pressed further.
Jiang Xuzhou pursed his lips, took a few deep breaths, and said very quietly: “I have a bad heart, you know.”
“Didn’t you have surgery?” Ye Xun asked, still gripping Jiang Xuzhou’s shoulders tightly.
Jiang Xuzhou gasped in pain: “It hasn’t recovered well. I’m still in the recovery period.”
He didn’t want to tell Ye Xun the truth, or rather, telling Ye Xun the truth wouldn’t do any good.
Ye Xun wasn’t his doctor or family. They didn’t even have the relationship of business partners, let alone that he didn’t want to use his illness to bind the other person for life.
Jiang Xuzhou thought again of the young man who stood next to Ye Xun last time—Cheng Zhaolin.
He thought that a sunny and cheerful person like Ye Xun must not lack partners; there were plenty who were better than him. In this relationship, only he was unable to let go, and only he was trapped. It was time for him to release Ye Xun.
After comforting his grandmother this time, he would slowly tell her that he and Ye Xun had separated.
He patted the hand that was tightly gripping his shoulder, his gaze soft as he met the other person’s eyes. He noticed Ye Xun had cut his hair; it looked a bit like his college hairstyle.
This haircut looks better. Jiang Xuzhou thought.
“Don’t worry, I’m fine,” Jiang Xuzhou comforted him. “Let’s drive. Don’t make Grandma wait anxiously.”
Ye Xun said nothing. He didn’t know what constituted a “problem” for Jiang Xuzhou—being hospitalized or dying. But he didn’t manage to say anything, silently releasing the parking brake.
The black SUV merged back into the traffic flow.