They Dumped Me—Now They’re Reincarnated and Obsessed? - Chapter 21

Yan Ze opened the door and said, “Come out.”

Mei Jian turned around and held up a phone. “What is this?”

When Yan Ze saw what he was holding, his eyes widened. “Who told you to touch that?!”

Mei Jian asked, “Is it hers?”

Yan Ze reached to grab it. “Give it to me.”

Mei Jian lowered his voice. “How did you get it?”

Yan Ze snatched the phone back, frowning. “It was in my pocket when I woke up.”

Mei Jian was stunned. “And that’s not strange to you? Why would it follow you back here?”

“I came back. You came back. Why is it strange that the phone came too?”

Mei Jian stopped him as he tried to lock the phone in a drawer. “Unlock it. Let me see.”

“Are you out of your mind?”

“Are you the one not thinking straight?” Mei Jian snapped. “Did you come back wearing that blinding outfit? How did the phone come too? It makes no scientific sense! There has to be a reason it appeared. Haven’t you looked at what’s inside?”

“I did.” Yan Ze’s voice turned heavy. Brow furrowed, he said, “There’s no signal. No internet. The apps only show static pages… and her message—‘I’m sorry’…”

Mei Jian froze. “What ‘sorry’?”

Yan Ze said flatly, “None of your business.”

Mei Jian grabbed him by the collar. “What ‘sorry’?!”

Yan Ze lowered his eyes and said nothing.

“You bastard!” Mei Jian seemed to have guessed it. “You made her say sorry to you?! What the hell did you do to deserve her apology?! It’s you who should be sorry to her!”

Yan Ze let out a faint, bitter laugh. “From the day I met her, she always liked to apologize. Mei Jian, do you know why?”

Mei Jian’s hands dropped. He stepped back.

“Because some piece of trash dumped her. And that trash must’ve cast some twisted spell, made her believe she wasn’t good enough—like she didn’t deserve him.” Yan Ze’s expression turned terrifying, his voice low and cold.

“You made her think it was her fault you left. I told her countless times she was more than enough, that she never needed to ‘measure up.’ But you—what kind of poisonous seed did you plant in her heart? She tiptoed around everything. I gave her gifts—she didn’t even like them, but she still apologized. We planned to meet—I stood her up, and she apologized.”

Mei Jian stood there, stunned.

“Do you know why I hate you, Mei Jian? Why I look down on you? Why I say you’re not a man?” Yan Ze asked.

“You think it’s because I’m petty? That I can’t handle her having an ex?”

Mei Jian’s Adam’s apple bobbed. He took a deep breath, coming back to his senses. Frowning, he said, “Let me see the phone.”

Yan Ze sneered. “What exactly are you hoping to see?”

“There’s no such thing as meaningless appearances. If the phone is here, it has a reason,” Mei Jian said. “So tell me—why is her phone with you?”

“I don’t know.”

After a long silence, Yan Ze finally unlocked the phone and tossed it to Mei Jian.

“Not much use left…” he muttered.

Mei Jian opened a few apps, skimming through them quickly. “Give me a pen and paper.”

Yan Ze slid a notebook toward him.

Mei Jian sat down and began sketching a timeline.

Yan Ze, listless, asked, “What’s this for?”

“There’s a final unsent message in the drafts. Looks like she was writing to you, to apologize,” Mei Jian explained, marking the first point on the timeline. “Before that, her last sent message was to someone called Sanshan-ge…”

“My agent,” Yan Ze said.

“She replied to his message about heading to the studio. Her text was: ‘Good luck, don’t work too hard.’ Sent at 6:20 p.m. What time did the police say she died?”

Yan Ze stayed silent for a long time, then shook his head. “I don’t know.”

Mei Jian scolded sharply, “What good are you?!”

Yan Ze’s eyes reddened. “Just keep going.”

Mei Jian continued, “Before messaging your agent, she was chatting with her aunt about dinner. It was a cheerful exchange. She told her aunt to just watch TV and not go online—because your live stream was scheduled and she wanted her aunt to watch it.”

Yan Ze sat down heavily. “Okay…”

“Other social apps—no activity after 6:00. Her last browsing times on Weibo and news apps were around 5:00. No signs of activity after that.”

Yan Ze’s eyes brimmed with tears. “So… are you saying she was already… by 6:00?”

“I got the police call at 8:10,” Mei Jian said harshly. “Do you remember what time you were notified?”

Yan Ze paused for a long moment, then slammed the table. “Ten minutes to eight! I had twenty minutes left before going on stage—7:50!”

Mei Jian’s eyes darkened, as if something had clicked. He opened the message inbox.

“The earliest unread text is from 5:30… but here’s a read message from an unknown number, timestamped 6:11 p.m. The message says: ‘Mm-hmm, almost there~’”

Yan Ze was close to losing it. “What does that even mean?!”

“Do you recognize this number?”

Yan Ze looked at it, hesitating. “Never seen it… Maybe? It looks a little familiar… No. I don’t know. I don’t memorize phone numbers.”

Mei Jian rolled his eyes. “Judging by the wording, it’s someone she knew. At the very least, she knew them.”

He opened the contact list and held up the phone. “And this one?”

“Which one?”

“This unmarked number. No saved name.” Mei Jian frowned. “It called at 6:20. She answered.”

“…Sh*t!” Yan Ze cursed. “I don’t know!”

Mei Jian snapped, “Can I count on you for anything?!”

Yan Ze pressed, “So what does all of this mean?”

Mei Jian asked coldly, “What did the police say to you? Did they confirm it was suicide?”

Yan Ze looked blank. “…I… I don’t remember. Didn’t they?”

Mei Jian grabbed the thick book next to him and smacked it into Yan Ze’s shoulder. “What the hell are you even good for?!”

Yan Ze groaned, “I’m just… confused. Give me a second to think, okay?”

“Where were you living at the time?”

“Galaxy Bay.”

“That far out?”Mei Jian narrowed his eyes. “What floor?”

“Third. All three floors were ours.”

Mei Jian paused, forced himself to calm down, then asked, “Did the police say she jumped from inside the house? Or from the roof?”

“…I don’t know. They… I don’t think they told me anything.”

Mei Jian looked ready to lose it.

“Does your community have a visitor log?”

“Yes. Strict one. If you don’t live there, you can’t get in.”

“Then that means there’s a record of anyone who visited,” Mei Jian murmured. “But… we can’t check that now…”

Yan Ze seemed to grasp something. A light flickered in his eyes. “What are you saying? Do you mean…?”

Mei Jian looked him in the eye. “Do you know how the police informed me?”

Yan Ze blinked. “How?”

“They said: ‘Suspected death by falling. Cause of the incident under investigation. We need you to help confirm the victim’s identity.’”

Yan Ze froze.

“Suspected?”

“On the way here, the newsflash on the car radio said it was suspected that online bullying led to her suicide…”

Yan Ze was nearly hyperventilating. He squatted down on the floor, eyes blank.

“You’re saying… she didn’t jump on her own?”

“What was her state like after your engagement was announced?” Mei Jian asked.

“She seemed fine.” Yan Ze recalled, “We spent two months preparing PR before the official announcement. I invited every media outlet I could, managed all the contacts. We spent over ten million yuan. The three principles were: no names, no personal info, no photos.

I didn’t really follow what the online reactions were like. Our agent told us not to read anything online—he reminded me, and he reminded her too. He said I had a lot of fangirls and told us both to stay calm and ignore the nonsense. She was in good spirits at the time… at least, when we spoke on the phone, I couldn’t detect anything wrong.”

“That stuff online wasn’t just nonsense.” Mei Jian wiped his face, looking exhausted. “They practically tore her apart.”

Yan Ze looked guilty. “…Did they expose you too?”

Mei Jian shook his head. “Not yet, at least.”

The two men stood in silence for a moment.

Something felt off, but neither could quite say what.

Mei Jian finally said, “I don’t believe she killed herself.”

Yan Ze stood dumbfounded for a while, then grabbed the phone. “Wait, let me—”

But just then, the phone shut off.

Yan Ze froze.

“Where’s the charger?!” He began searching the room frantically.

Mei Jian said with dry sarcasm, “How thoughtful—she followed you back, and what, brought the charger too?”

Yan Ze knelt on the floor, rummaging through drawers in desperation. “Shut the hell up, Mei Jian. You just sit there running your damn mouth—”

“Um…” At the doorway, Xie Tingxue peeked in nervously, leaning against the wall. “Is Yan Yaru gone? So… are we still studying?”

Yan Ze immediately shut up and cursed himself a hundred times over in his head.

Xie Tingxue was a polite, cultured girl. She couldn’t stand crude language—especially from Yan Ze. Whenever he so much as said a bad word, she would give him the silent treatment for at least an hour.

He scrambled to his feet. “Yes! We’ll start again in a bit…”

But his head was spinning wildly.

One hand on the wall for support, his face pale as a sheet, he closed his eyes and groaned, “So dizzy…”

He staggered to the bathroom, clinging to the wall, and collapsed at the toilet, tears streaming down his face.

His head throbbed terribly.

Crap. Did he get some kind of concussion?!

Yan Ze was freaking out internally.

Xie Tingxue fetched a glass of water and crouched beside him. Tilting her head, she asked gently, “Are you okay?”

Mei Jian stood at the doorway, arms crossed, watching coldly.

Yan Ze couldn’t afford to lose face. He gave Xie Tingxue a bright smile and a peace sign. “I’m fine! I’ve fallen off wire rigs harder than this before!”

The moment he said that, he felt even more nauseous.

Clinging to the toilet, he waved her away.

Xie Tingxue said, “Should I call your mom?”

“She’s useless in this situation,” Yan Ze muttered. “What am I, three years old? You want my mom to come coddle me?”

Then, suddenly, he paused. With a playful grin he added, “How about you comfort me?”

Xie Tingxue stood up and snorted, “In your dreams!”

Yan Ze tugged at her school uniform sleeve, putting on his most pitiful performance. “Ow… it really hurts…”

Tears streaked his pale face—not sobbing, but the kind of quiet tears that made him look tragically beautiful.

His eyelashes fluttered delicately, and his expression practically begged for pity.

Xie Tingxue hesitated, heart softening. She crouched down again. “You should rest. Yesterday was really serious…”

She recalled the scene. Though she had a weak stomach for bl00d, thinking back on it now didn’t feel as scary.

At least… Yan Ze had looked very handsome.

Mei Jian said coolly, “What can we do? Let’s leave early. Let him drink some hot water and go to sleep.”

Yan Ze: “…”

If looks could kill, Mei Jian would be nailed to the ceiling and tortured by now.

Clutching his bandages, Yan Ze asked Xie Tingxue, “Do you know how to make pain fly away?”

Xie Tingxue blinked. “Huh?”

Then added, “…Are you a child?”

Yan Ze replied solemnly, “Yes, I’m a minor.”

Mei Jian snorted, the sound dripping with adult-level mockery.

Yan Ze, undeterred, acted cute. He placed Xie Tingxue’s hand on his bandage. “Come on, help me. I’m hurting so bad…”

Xie Tingxue made a face. “Ugh, I can’t say it. It’s too cringey.”

Mei Jian cut in, “Stop wasting time. Let’s just go.”

Yan Ze: “Then blow on it! Just blow on it, okay?!”

Mei Jian looked like he’d seen a ghost.

Xie Tingxue was stunned. “Wow, Yan Ze, you really are shameless—just like Yan Yaru said!”

But Yan Ze wouldn’t let go.

Xie Tingxue stood there awkwardly, then reluctantly blew a puff of air. “Happy now?”

Yan Ze gasped dramatically, “Ah… you’re an angel!”

Still so adorably straightforward.

Xie Tingxue shook his hand off and made a face, brushing off goosebumps. She muttered using a popular phrase from their generation, “This is so pervy…”

Mei Jian said, “He is a perv. And the unstable kind.

”Yan Ze: “Shut up.”

Mei Jian: “Hmph.”

At the stairwell, Yan Yaru suddenly appeared, stunned. “Mei Jian?! Xie Tingxue?! When did you two get here?!”

Mei Jian turned, lips pressed tight, eyebrows twitching slightly.

Meanwhile, Yan Ze was finally focusing on vomiting into the toilet like a proper patient.

Xie Tingxue stammered like she’d been caught red-handed. “We came to… see him. For studying…”

Mei Jian changed the topic. “What are you doing here?”

Yan Yaru replied, “I came to record something for my godmother’s place! Who told you guys to come here?”

Yan Ze wiped his mouth and raised his hand. “Me.”

He said, “I was stuck on a problem, so I called them over. I was just about to call Chen Chang too…”

Lying really was his specialty.

He gave a look of utter contempt toward the useless Mei Jian.

Yan Yaru glanced at Xie Tingxue and smiled sweetly. “Forget him—since you’re here, perfect! The four of us make a full set.”

She said cheerfully, “Let’s play cards!”

Xie Tingxue sighed internally and replied, “I don’t know how.”

Yan Yaru was eager. “That’s okay, I’ll teach you!”

Then, softening her tone, she coaxed the two boys, “Come on~ Let’s have some fun and play a game~”

That kind of flirty tone worked on teenage boys.

But with two grown men…

Yan Ze shivered at the toilet, looking absolutely disgusted.

Mei Jian stayed expressionless, then sighed quietly.

Yan Yaru whipped out two decks of cards. “Come on, come on! We’ve got school again tomorrow—let’s relax a little tonight!”

Xie Tingxue, feeling guilty for taking time away from studying, kept murmuring, “I really don’t know how to play…”

But Yan Yaru wouldn’t take no for an answer and pushed her into a seat.

She began showing off her shuffling skills.

To be honest, the two men were tempted—mainly because they wanted to spend more time with Xie Tingxue.

Mei Jian said, “A bit of fun won’t hurt.”

Yan Ze agreed, “Yeah, just to unwind.”

Before sitting, Yan Ze and Mei Jian exchanged a look.

Understood. Time to cooperate.

Make the girl happy.