Su Su gazed at the flickering light and shadow before her.

In that glow, a woman with loose black hair smiled gently.

Her cheeks held a hint of baby fat, her skin rosy and tender, her eyes large and bright. Though she seemed married, she carried a strange youthful innocence.

She cradled a rosy-cheeked little girl in her arms. The child, like a curious puppy, stared at Bai Su with wide, moist eyes brimming with wonder.

Mother and daughter shared nearly identical large eyes, soft curved brows, and pinkish skin—like a pair of matching Barbie dolls.

Su Su looked at them and suddenly smiled.

In his last life, he’d died single, so naturally, this mother-daughter pair meant almost nothing to him.

Strangers?

The most familiar strangers.

He still remembered, many years ago, that unremarkable girl with pigtails and bangs who cried so easily.

She’d been his desk mate for three whole years.

As mischievous teens, he’d pulled her pigtails, slipped bugs into her backpack and pencil case, and made her cry countless times.

She’d been a good student, her eyes curving like crescent moons, her voice soft and sweet. She had small hands with slender fingers and often sang for him…

Though she’d cried so much—a true crybaby.

Her name was Wang Lu. Ordinary, common, even a little old-fashioned.

Yet it was the deepest scar forever etched in his heart.

"Will you recall tomorrow the diary you wrote yesterday? Will you still remember the crybaby you once were…"

A faint melody of Lao Lang’s "My Deskmate" hummed in his ears.

Su Su smiled bitterly… How fitting.

Half a year ago, he’d recognized her instantly upon seeing this pair. His decade-long obsession had simply dissolved.

She was happy, smiling, with a lovely daughter and surely a handsome, doting husband… With that, what reason did his obsession have to linger?

Perhaps everyone has someone they once cared for most—not about marrying them or being together, but about their fate, their smile, their happiness.

Just… that simple.

Su Su watched them and smiled back.

The past was gone; the future not yet here.

The present deserved his focus.

As for her in this timeline… she’d probably already parted ways with Bai Su.

In his last life, their Gaokao scores were close, but their universities—one south, one north—were separated by mountains and seas.

Then his family’s tragedy forced him to abandon his studies. That was likely why they’d missed each other.

Su Su’s smile faded. His expression softened—everything was over. The Bai Su from his last life had died suddenly at a banquet, obscure and forgotten like a stray dog.

But here, in this timeline, little Su Su lived. She laughed and cried, vividly real, brimming with infinite possibilities.

She seemed to understand.

"Thank you," she whispered to the mother-daughter pair, and to someone unseen. "I understand now."

The figures in the light suddenly beamed at her.

Not as dazzling as in novels, but truly… heartwarming.

"Thank you," Su Su said again.

The ground beneath her feet solidified. She stood, turned, and walked into the darkness.

Like a falling leaf rippling a still pond, her final words were faint but firm: "And… goodbye."

The light shimmered like disturbed water, then slowly faded.

Only darkness remained, and a frail girl glowing softly.

Su Su faced the endless dark, feeling a churning force deep within. She clenched her fists and stepped forward, one foot after another.

She would not stop. Not until death.

—

*Smack—* A crisp slap echoed in the tiny room.

Bai Su clutched his stinging cheek, staring at Sister Yu in shock.

The fiery pain jolted him fully awake.

"Shut up," Sister Yu said coolly. "Stop whining and care for Su Su."

She pulled Su Su’s hand aside, fingers resting on her wrist. Her brow furrowed slightly as she sensed the faint pulse.

Her practiced movements radiated quiet authority.

Seeing her take a pulse, Bai Su lunged forward like a drowning man grasping a lifeline. "How is she, Sister Yu? My sister—how’s Su Su?"

Sister Yu shot him a cold glance and shook her head. "Pulse-taking isn’t some novel magic. I’m inexperienced—I can’t tell much."

"Has Su Su been ill lately?" she asked.

Bai Su’s face twisted as he recalled something. "Low blood sugar… does that count?"

"Huh???" Sister Yu blinked in utter confusion.

But relief washed over her. "Why didn’t you say Su Su has low blood sugar earlier?"

"I… panicked and forgot," he mumbled.

"You! How could you forget something so vital?" Sister Yu scolded. "For low blood sugar, you must carry chocolate—common sense! Never forget."

"Oh, right…" Bai Su fumbled awkwardly in his pocket, pulling out a few melted chocolate bars. "I did bring some… just forgot in the rush."

Sister Yu was speechless. After a long pause, she hissed, "Idiot!"

Bai Su grinned sheepishly, at a loss for words.

Just then, Su Su stirred on the bed. Her eyes fluttered open, and in a mosquito-soft voice, she called, "Brother… Sister Yu…"

"Su Su?!" They rushed to her side, overjoyed.

Bai Su tore open a chocolate wrapper, knelt by the bed, and spoke gently but urgently. "Don’t talk yet, Su Su. Open your mouth."

She turned her head slightly, recognized him, and struggled to obey.

He fed the melted chocolate into her mouth. "Your low blood sugar flared up. Rest here, eat this, and be good."

His hand brushed her hair with feather-light tenderness.

Su Su hummed "Mm" obediently and closed her eyes.

*Phew…* Bai Su exhaled deeply.

Su Su seemed stable, but he’d still take her to the hospital—just in case.

He stood, facing Sister Yu. Arms crossed, she watched him with a faint, teasing smile. He bit his lip, bent low, and bowed deeply. "Sister Yu, thank you—truly."

She shook her head, lifting him up. An eerie grin played on her lips. "No thanks needed. I like little Su Su. I helped because I wanted to."

"Though…" She covered her mouth, laughing. "Little Su classmate, planning to go home with that half-cut hairstyle?"

Bai Su froze. His hair—only half-trimmed!

*Damn it!*

His heart shattered. He almost wept.

"What rotten luck!"

[To be continued]