She Is Seriously Ill - Chapter 24:

Chapter 24: 24

Because you’re like me—you like girls. (Flashback Chapter)

Jiang Chen was genuinely quite drunk that night. Hearing Chen Guo offer to stay with her, she first froze momentarily, then let out a short laugh, teasing, Alright then.

Later, her head grew too dizzy, so she closed her eyes and urged Chen Guo to go rest, then went to sleep herself. The next day, after sobering up, Jiang Chen regretted it—she shouldn’t have said so much to Chen Guo, especially after Chen Guo had stumbled upon her secret.

Some words, even if not meant that way, felt inappropriate in that context.

It happened right after her new drama had wrapped up, so Jiang Chen wasn’t too busy. After much thought, she decided to find an opportunity to have a proper talk with Chen Guo—not just about that night’s drunken slip, but also about the scene Chen Guo had witnessed outside the door.

Although she personally didn’t think much of it, Chen Guo was still a kid after all. Jiang Chen felt that some of Chen Guo’s words during their chat that night had veered beyond her control.

Unfortunately, before Jiang Chen could broach the subject with Chen Guo, she discovered the secret hidden under Chen Guo’s pillow.

The weather was lovely that day. Jiang Chen took her own quilt out to air, and since Chen Guo, busy with her final year of high school, was out early and back late every day, Jiang Chen figured she wouldn’t have time for such chores. So, she took Chen Guo’s quilt out to sun as well.

The autumn quilt was quite heavy. As Jiang Chen lifted it, she accidentally knocked the pillow off, and a photo fell out along with it.

In the photo, a woman with bright eyes and a radiant smile was pictured, but the person with an arm around her shoulder had their face and body slashed to pieces with a blade, making them unrecognizable.

After staring at the woman in the photo for a long time, Jiang Chen slowly bent down, picked up the photo, placed it back where it was, then closed the door and left the room without a word.

That evening, by the time Chen Guo returned home, Jiang Chen was already asleep. In the middle of the night, Jiang Chen suddenly woke from a dream. The room was dark, and she lay on her back, staring unblinkingly at the ceiling, her chest rising and falling slightly.

As her thoughts gradually cleared from the hazy dream, Jiang Chen belatedly remembered that the other person in that photo was Lu Tong.

It was taken after their first drama wrapped up—a commemorative photo of the two of them. It had been so long that, if not for the recent gossip and CP fans digging up their old photos, Jiang Chen would have almost forgotten about it.

Jiang Chen lay awake until dawn, unable to fall back asleep. Around seven, faint footsteps rustled outside her bedroom. Jiang Chen turned her head toward the door, inexplicably holding her breath.

The sounds weren’t loud and lasted about five minutes before stopping with the soft click of a door closing.

Jiang Chen let out a sigh of relief, slowly turned her head back, then pulled the covers over her face, recalling all the moments since Chen Guo had moved in.

Aside from that ambiguous conversation that night, there had been nothing out of line before.

The two of them rarely even had a chance to see each other.

How could it be…?

But fortunately, Chen Guo would graduate in six months. Once she left for university in another city, this immature infatuation would naturally fade with time and distance.

Having convinced herself of this, Jiang Chen moved out of Yongjin Garden first thing that morning.

To Chen Guo, it seemed no different from Jiang Chen’s previous work trips—except this one lasted unusually long, and there hadn’t been a single phone call in between.

In the past, when Jiang Chen was away for work engagements, she’d periodically check in with a maternal tone, asking if Chen Guo needed anything in daily life, how her studies were progressing, reminding her to dress warmly, use her phone less, and avoid staying up late… things like that.

But this time, it was completely silent.

In mid-December, Chen Guo received a package containing two down jackets for winter.

After Gao Yuliang passed away, Jiang Yun took it hard and remained bedridden for a long time. She was still recuperating abroad, with Dai Xiaoqin accompanying her, so the package couldn’t have been from them.

That left only one person. On her way back, Chen Guo sent a WeChat message to Jiang Chen:

The clothes arrived. They fit perfectly. Thank you, Auntie.

Jiang Chen didn’t reply. By the time evening self-study was nearly over the next day, her phone remained silent. Seated at her desk, Chen Guo lost count of how many times she’d pulled her phone from the drawer, lighting up the screen to check.

The result was always the same. Staring blankly at the chat window, she drifted off.

Chen Guo, school’s over. Aren’t you leaving? her deskmate asked.

Chen Guo snapped out of it, tucking her phone into her backpack. Leaving now.

As classes ended, students swarmed out, cramming the stairwells with noisy, chattering crowds.

Walking behind two girls chatting ahead, the din around made it impossible to hear clearly. Chen Guo only saw one suddenly cover her mouth, looking at her friend in disbelief.

The friend glanced around, confirmed the dean wasn’t nearby, and sneakily pulled out her phone.

From her elevated position behind them, Chen Guo’s peripheral vision caught a few glaring words on the screen:

Actress Jiang Chen Suspected to Be Pregnant

Chen Guo’s heart clenched, freezing her in place. Holding her breath, she focused on the smaller text below:

Paparazzi photographed Jiang Chen at an obstetrics hospital today, fueling pregnancy rumors. Sources indicate Jiang Chen has never publicly acknowledged a partner, leaving the father’s identity unknown. Her studio has not responded, and her phone remains switched off.

What are you stopping for? Move! a student behind her complained, blocked by her standstill.

Ignoring them, Chen Guo pushed through the crowd and dashed downstairs. Finding a quieter spot, she pulled out her phone to call Jiang Chen.

The line was dead—her phone was off. Standing at the school gate, Chen Guo glanced around helplessly before lowering her eyes, trudging home in a daze.

She repeated her daily routine: entering the neighborhood, taking the elevator, unlocking the door… But as if fate were playing a cruel joke, the moment she opened the door, a warm yellow light flooded her vision. There, in the kitchen, stood the person she’d been desperately searching for.

Jiang Chen leaned casually against the counter, arms crossed, gaze fixed on the simmering soup. Her expression was weary, eyelids slightly drooping.

Chen Guo stood frozen in the doorway, lips parting without a sound.

Hearing the door, Jiang Chen glanced back instinctively. Spotting Chen Guo in the entryway, she merely looked at her briefly before lowering her head again.

School’s over?

Mm. Chen Guo set down her backpack and slowly walked over, stopping beside Jiang Chen. Have you been very busy lately?

Jiang Chen’s eyebrow twitched as she turned her head, her expression stern. Have you forgotten how to address people properly?

Chen Guo looked at her, pausing for a few seconds. You saw everything?

Though phrased as a question, her tone carried absolute certainty—this was the only logical explanation for Jiang Chen’s sudden coldness toward her over the past two months.

Even though Chen Guo didn’t specify what had been seen, Jiang Chen understood immediately. She reached out to turn off the stove, then turned to meet the other’s gaze, watching her with composed calm.

Don’t you have anything to say?

A sliver of hope lingered in Jiang Chen’s heart—if Chen Guo could provide a reasonable explanation, she would pretend nothing had happened. They could peacefully get through the remaining six months together.

These final months were undeniably crucial for any high school student, and she didn’t want to disrupt Chen Guo’s emotions at such a critical juncture.

Unfortunately, the other party didn’t share this perspective, remaining stubbornly unyielding. The news said you were pregnant. That’s false, right?

Jiang Chen frowned and retorted sharply, Are you me? How can you be so sure it’s false?

It is false. Chen Guo paused, leaving herself no room for retreat. Because you’re like me—you like girls.