Chapter 43: She Did Not Transmigrate

The slap from Tang Xi brought Gu Yu back to his senses.

He knew Tang Xi’s character all too well; even if she were truly alone in a room with Zhou Jingchuan, she would never do anything to betray him. Realizing this, Gu Yu felt an overwhelming sense of regret for the words he had used to provoke her. He was simply too jealous—jealous that a man as exceptional as Zhou Jingchuan appeared by her side—and too terrified that Zhou Jingchuan might snatch his Xi away.

"Brother," Gu Wennuan said, stepping out cautiously. "Are you just going to let her walk away like that?"

Gu Yu glared at her fiercely, then suddenly lunged forward, grabbing her by the throat and pinning her against the wall. "Gu Wennuan, I warned you not to meddle! I will not divorce Tang Xi. Who gave you the right to act on your own?"

At this moment, everything became clear to him. Gu Wennuan must have known Tang Xi was returning today, which was why she had drugged his drink, intentionally ensuring Tang Xi would walk in on that scene.

Gu Wennuan struggled to breathe, her face turning a ghastly shade of liver-purple as she found herself unable to squeeze out a single word. A wave of immense terror washed over her; she did not doubt for a moment that Gu Yu was truly capable of killing her.

"Mom!" Little Feng suddenly grabbed Gu Wennuan’s leg and burst into tears. "Dad is trying to kill Mom!"

The cry snapped Gu Yu back to his senses, and he released her with a look of resentment. Gu Wennuan slumped like a fish thrown back into the water, coughing and gasping for air. She had been terrified out of her wits.

"Brother, *cough, cough*," Gu Wennuan wheezed, reaching out to grab the lapels of his jacket. "Now is not the time for anger. Little Feng said Tang Xi recorded a video."

"What?" Gu Yu was stunned.

"Tang Xi recorded a video of the two of us. If she releases it, we are finished."

If the outside world learned of what had transpired between them, the social stigma would be a minor issue; the real catastrophe would be the impact on the Gu family’s company. Gu Yu had worked tirelessly to build and stabilize the business, and the thought of how much market value a listed company could lose due to such a scandal was unimaginable.

Gu Yu’s expression darkened as expected. Gu Wennuan struck while the iron was hot. "Brother, you must find a way to get that video back. Otherwise, the hard work you’ve put in over these years will go down the drain, and we won’t be able to answer to Father."

"Tang Xi is determined to divorce me; she won’t give it to me," Gu Yu said, his head throbbing. He understood Tang Xi’s temperament too well. She might appear soft, but once she made up her mind, she never looked back.

"I have a way to destroy that video." Gu Wennuan leaned against his back, wrapping her arms around his waist. "Brother, you, me, and Little Feng—we are the real family. If Tang Xi truly loved you, she would accept everything about you, including your son. She wouldn't be making such a scene demanding a divorce. In the end, she doesn't care about you, and she cares even less about your company. She will destroy everything you have worked so hard to achieve."

Gu Yu rubbed his temples, not pushing her hands away, his tone weary and irritable. "What can you do?"

"Can you trust me to handle it, Brother?"

Gu Yu closed his eyes, nodding after a long silence.

***

To prevent any further complications, Tang Xi organized all the evidence and sent it to Li Yixuan. Shortly after, the other party sent a location, and they agreed to meet in person.

The cafe was not far away, only a thirty-minute drive. Tang Xi entered the destination into her GPS and slowly steered her car out of the residential complex. Soft, soothing music played in the car—a track by a popular female singer known for her traditional-style melodies.

When the traffic light ahead turned red, Tang Xi gently pressed the brake. Just as she was about to change the song, she caught a glimpse of a truck suddenly appearing in her rearview mirror. Despite the red light, the vehicle showed no sign of slowing down, rushing straight toward her car.

Reflexively, Tang Xi yanked the steering wheel to the right.

*Boom!*

Amidst the collision of metal on metal, the world spun. Tang Xi’s car was knocked to the roadside and flipped completely over. She was trapped by her seatbelt, hanging upside down, as a warm liquid trickled down her neck and into her mouth. The salty, metallic taste was nauseating.

Struggling to hold onto her fading consciousness, Tang Xi tried to reach the seatbelt buckle, but after fumbling for a long time, she failed. She looked into the unbroken mirror, which reflected the scene of the car. The fuel tank had been ruptured, and the smell of gasoline was pungent. As more fuel leaked out, her hands gradually lost their strength.

A profound sense of despair arrived alongside the scent of gasoline; she felt as though she could hear the footsteps of the Grim Reaper. A slender shadow suddenly appeared in the mirror, seemingly drawing near. Her vision blurred, and though she tried to see clearly, her brain no longer obeyed her.

Someone reached into the cabin, unbuckled her seatbelt, and pulled her out. The temperature around her grew hotter and hotter. Just as Tang Xi slipped into unconsciousness, flames engulfed the entire car, scorching the spot where she had just been sitting.

"Qiqi, don't be afraid."

Faintly, she seemed to hear a long-lost voice.

It was when she was twelve. Her mother had forgotten to turn off the gas when leaving the house, and she had woken up choking to find the room filled with thick smoke. She had scrambled desperately toward the balcony, screaming for help.

Outside the window stood a massive banyan tree that was particularly prone to attracting mosquitoes every summer. Tang Xi had once hated that tree, begging her father to cut it down, until the boy climbed up from the tree, his long legs straddling a branch, and reached out to her.

"Qiqi, don't be afraid. Come here."

She grasped his hand. Behind her, tongues of fire flickered, and the heat nearly swallowed her whole. She leaped forward and was caught firmly by the boy. Just then, a burning window frame collapsed; he hurriedly turned his back, shielding her from the red-hot timber with his own shoulder.

She heard his muffled groan and smelled the scent of burning flesh. He was sweating from the pain, yet he kept comforting her, "Qiqi, don't be afraid."

Back then, she didn't understand love; she only knew the boy’s embrace was warm and safe, and his voice was clear and full, like summer. Later, Tang Xi would sit by the window every day, staring at the banyan tree, hoping he would suddenly climb up from below. But he had vanished, disappearing from her world without a trace.

"I hate you, Zhou Jing!" That was the last sentence she wrote about him in her diary. The girl’s first romance had begun with a roar and ended in dim, colorless silence.

In her dream, she seemed to have returned to the day of the fire, but the flames in front of her suddenly transformed into a burning car. Watching the searing fire about to consume her, she subconsciously called out that name: "Brother Jing."

Tang Xi snapped awake.

The surroundings were quiet, save for the chirping of birds outside. The shadow of a large tree fell into the room, looking exactly like that summer—the dream of a wandering oriole. A clock hung on the wall, displaying the year, month, date, and time. It was indeed today. She wasn't dead, and she hadn't transmigrated.

*Clearly, I should read fewer novels,* she thought, *otherwise I’ll be easily poisoned by them.*

"You're awake. How do you feel?"

The voice beside her startled Tang Xi. She turned her head and saw the man sitting by the hospital bed. He was wearing a custom-made suit that was now wrinkled and even carried the unpleasant stench of gasoline. His meticulously sculpted face was stained with several black smudges—like two strokes of dark ink suddenly appearing on a white porcelain vase, ruining its original aesthetic, yet leaving it hauntingly, brokenly beautiful.