She Is Seriously Ill - Chapter 29

Chapter 29

Your lips are so soft. (Flashback Chapter)

Jiang Chen couldn’t lie to herself. The moment she saw Chen Guo downstairs, especially after learning she had walked all the way here, claiming to feel nothing would be completely untrue.

Avoidance solved nothing – it only made those nearly overflowing emotions more turbulent and profound.

Jiang Chen slowly raised her eyes to meet Chen Guo’s gaze. Happy.

This was the truth, though it was more than just happiness. There was shock at seeing her sitting there, heartache upon hearing she had walked, bitterness at seeing her flushed face and hands, and uncontrollable sorrow – too many emotions to count.

Yet the person across from her seemed perfectly content with just hearing happy.

The tension in Chen Guo’s lips gradually eased, her stubborn gaze softening as she lowered her eyes. She glanced at the pajamas in her hands, giving them a gentle squeeze before looking back at Jiang Chen. I’m going to take a shower.

Okay. Jiang Chen watched her. The shower gel and shampoo are on the rack with labels. Don’t mix them up.

Chen Guo nodded, giving her another glance. I won’t.

Then she turned and entered the bathroom, closing the door behind her.

Jiang Chen stared at the bathroom door until the sound of running water emerged from within. Only then did she withdraw her gaze, looking around the room she’d stayed in for several days with a somewhat dazed expression.

Her eyes eventually settled on a black backpack leaning against the wall by the door.

Jiang Chen stared at it for nearly half a minute before walking over as if possessed. She crouched down and opened the backpack.

When the zipper was two-thirds open, two containers of Old Altar Pickled Vegetable Beef Instant Noodles fell out, rolling to rest by Jiang Chen’s feet.

Jiang Chen glanced down. The backpack was completely soaked, and naturally, its contents hadn’t fared much better. Fortunately, the cup noodles still had their plastic wrapping, preventing them from being ruined by the moisture.

Wafer biscuits, French bread rolls, ham, potato chips… Thankfully, all were protected by their packaging. Jiang Chen opened a pack of biscuits and took one – the texture remained unaffected, still perfectly crisp.

Though dry, they were somewhat hard to swallow.

Before being opened, the backpack had been bulging. Chen Guo probably hadn’t eaten anything during her journey.

Likely it hadn’t been convenient, especially with such heavy snowfall. Eating bread accompanied by snow wouldn’t have been very appetizing.

Jiang Chen wiped each food item dry and stacked them in the cabinet by the wall. She then hung the damp backpack on a hanger behind the door.

Just as she was nearly finished cleaning up, Chen Guo emerged from her shower. Standing at the bathroom doorway with a towel, she intermittently dried her hair while discreetly surveying the room. There was only one bed.

Hearing the movement, Jiang Chen glanced back at her. Finished showering? Come have something to eat.

It wasn’t anything luxurious – just the two containers of instant noodles Chen Guo had brought.

Chen Guo looked up and walked over. Jiang Chen had prepared both containers. Without a proper table in the room, they each held their noodles and sat at the foot of the bed to eat.

When the lids came off, the aroma filled the air. They ate quietly, with only occasional slurping sounds breaking the silence.

Jiang Chen glanced sideways and noticed Chen Guo deliberately slowing her eating pace upon sensing her gaze.

Have you had enough? Jiang Chen asked. I have more here.

It’s enough, Chen Guo replied.

Jiang Chen watched her for a few seconds, then stood up and fetched a clean pair of chopsticks from the cabinet.

A single cup of instant noodles didn’t amount to much once prepared. She scooped all of it into Chen Guo’s bowl. I haven’t touched this portion.

Chen Guo didn’t seem to mind. She lowered her gaze, letting Jiang Chen transfer the noodles without a word.

After setting down the chopsticks and sitting back, Jiang Chen glanced at them and suddenly asked, Was it far?

Chen Guo paused, then understood what Jiang Chen meant. She shook her head lightly. Not far.

Over thirty kilometers,” Jiang Chen murmured.

Chen Guo’s fork stilled at the edge of her bowl. She blinked slowly, lost in thought.

How long did it take?” Jiang Chen turned to look at her. A whole day?

Chen Guo pressed her lips together and remained silent.

Jiang Chen slowly lowered her eyes. She realized how conflicted she felt—afraid Chen Guo might say something, yet annoyed by her quiet refusal to speak.

Are you angry with me?” Jiang Chen’s gaze fell on two bottles of water atop the bedside cabinet.

Chen Guo looked down, her lips twitching slightly. No.

If you’re not angry, then why haven’t you replied to my messages?

Jiang Chen’s tone was light, tinged with gentle teasing, like an elder coaxing a younger one out of their shell. That was how their relationship should have been—not this awkward tension between them.

Chen Guo stared at the scallions floating in her soup. After a few seconds of silence, she replied softly, I didn’t know what to say. I was afraid of saying the wrong thing.

Jiang Chen’s heart clenched. She opened her mouth but couldn’t find words.

The best way to let someone go was to cut off contact and let time fade those feelings. But their situation was different—Jiang Yun had entrusted the child to her, so she couldn’t simply ignore Chen Guo. And Chen Guo, still in school, relied on her support.

Sometimes fate really enjoyed playing tricks, forcing two people who shouldn’t be together into each other’s lives.

There aren’t many months left until the college entrance exam,” Jiang Chen said, feigning nonchalance. Have you decided which university to apply to?

Chen Guo froze, then slowly turned to face Jiang Chen. Do you want me to stay away from you?

Jiang Chen’s fingers curled slightly. She asked herself the same question.

Was this really necessary?

It would be better for both of us,” Jiang Chen said, forcing a faint smile. Once you’re in college, you’ll meet more people. You’ll find someone you like—someone your own age, without all these complications. You could have a simple, carefree relationship. Wouldn’t that be nice?

Chen Guo clearly didn’t appreciate the suggestion. She averted her gaze and took a bite of noodles, stubbornly unyielding. I like you now, and I don’t feel burdened.

…

But you do, don’t you?

Jiang Chen smiled bitterly. If I said yes, would you listen and not act recklessly?

Chen Guo fell silent again. Jiang Chen already knew the answer—after all, emotions weren’t like flipping a switch, easily turned on and off.

She studied Chen Guo, curious. What do you like about me? My face?

As someone who’d debuted as an entertainer, she knew her looks and figure were part of her appeal—the reason most fans adored her.

Chen Guo’s expression stiffened. She stared into her bowl, silent for a long time.

Jiang Chen tugged her lips slightly and turned her face away, not intending to press for an answer.

No, Chen Guo suddenly said, There’s more.

What else? Jiang Chen asked, feigning composure.

Chen Guo swallowed hard, A long time ago, I watched your movies.

Jiang Chen was taken aback. The films she had made since her debut had basically been hits one after another.

So it wasn’t strange at all that Chen Guo had seen her work.

But… judging by her current demeanor, she probably hadn’t been just an ordinary viewer back then.

Then, years later, her father remarried, and the bride’s younger sister turned out to be the actress she had always admired.

Anyone in that situation would find it hard to remain indifferent.

Which movie?

Fox Fate.

A flicker of complex emotion passed over Jiang Chen’s face. Since Chen Guo clearly hadn’t finished speaking, she simply waited for her to continue.

That night, I dreamed of you. You were wearing the same outfit as in the movie…

Alright, stop there, Jiang Chen interrupted her.

Fox Fate was the most risqué film Jiang Chen had made since her debut.

So she wasn’t naive—she understood exactly what Chen Guo must have dreamed about that night.

Jiang Chen stood up and placed the instant noodle cup on the cabinet opposite her, feeling her cheeks grow warm despite herself. An indescribable discomfort settled in her heart.

How old were you back then, to be dreaming about… that kind of thing?

Chen Guo glanced at Jiang Chen and spoke at a measured pace, I didn’t think much of it at the time. I thought I was just… easily swayed by appearances. But when those feelings grew stronger, I gradually realized I might be different from others.

Before this, when their teacher played Journey to the West during evening study sessions, all her classmates were focused on the Monkey King, while her eyes were drawn to the seductive, beautifully dressed female spirits.

But back then, Chen Guo hadn’t realized there was anything unusual about this—until that night when a clear face appeared in her dream, followed by waking to bodily sensations she couldn’t bring herself to describe.

Only then did she belatedly discover her secret.

The room fell into sudden silence, the atmosphere growing subtle. Jiang Chen stood with her back to Chen Guo, unable to articulate her current state of mind.

After a long pause, she turned her head and stiffly changed the subject, Are you full?

Chen Guo knew Jiang Chen was long past the age where such confessions would move her, so she hadn’t expected any particular response.

Yeah, she stood up, I want to rest for a while.

Give it to me, Jiang Chen walked over and took the unfinished noodle cup from her hand, Go ahead and sleep.

Chen Guo glanced at the bed, somewhat uncertain, I’m sleeping here?

Where else would you sleep? Jiang Chen said without looking at her, closing the door behind her as she left.

Feeling unsure about facing Chen Guo upon returning, Jiang Chen disposed of the trash and found an excuse to visit Tang Jing’s room for a while.

I just asked at the front desk—rooms are limited these days, no vacancies. If you’re uncomfortable, Chen Guo can sleep with me tonight. We’ll manage.

Jiang Chen looked down at the script in her hands, her mind unsettled, still stuck on the first page after all this time.

She let out a breath, closed the script, and set it aside, No need. She’s already asleep.

Tang Jing peeled an apple and gave half to Jiang Chen. Thinking about Chen Guo’s arrival, she still found it somewhat unbelievable. It’s over thirty kilometers from the county town to here, and it’s snowing too. That girl is really bold.

Jiang Chen took the apple and responded absentmindedly. After finishing the apple, she went downstairs to ask the front desk for an extra blanket before returning.

The lights in the room were still on. Chen Guo occupied a narrow section against the wall, already fast asleep and sleeping deeply. When Jiang Chen entered the room, she didn’t react at all.

Jiang Chen turned off all the lights in the room, leaving only the bathroom light on. Then she tiptoed to the bedside, glanced at the sleeping figure, and slowly climbed onto the bed to lie down beside her, though she felt completely awake.

Jiang Chen lay with her eyes open, staring at the ceiling. Her mind involuntarily flashed back to Chen Guo’s nose tip red from the cold and the way she had looked at her.

Jiang Chen’s heart felt as if tugged by something, sinking heavily. Restlessly, she grabbed the blanket and pulled it over her head.

After what felt like a long time, when sleepiness finally began to set in, the person beside her suddenly stirred and mumbled something. Jiang Chen instinctively turned to look.

Chen Guo hadn’t woken up, but she seemed uncomfortable, her brows tightly furrowed and her face unusually flushed.

Jiang Chen watched for a few seconds before suddenly realizing something was wrong. She quickly sat up and touched Chen Guo’s forehead—it was frighteningly hot.

Chen Guo! Jiang Chen shook her shoulder. Wake up.

Chen Guo drowsily opened her eyes, but her eyelids were too heavy. Before they were fully open, she closed them again, her throat moving slightly. I want some water…

Okay, I’ll get you some. Don’t fall asleep. As she spoke, Jiang Chen felt for her phone on the bedside table and called the front desk to ask if they had any fever-reducing medicine.

Hearing that they did and would send it up shortly, Jiang Chen breathed a slight sigh of relief and got out of bed to fetch water for Chen Guo.

Chen Guo was likely burning up badly. Jiang Chen crouched by the bedside with a glass of water, calling her name several times. Though Chen Guo mumbled in response, she didn’t wake up.

Just then, her phone rang again—it was the front desk, probably about the fever medicine. Jiang Chen set the water on the bedside table, knelt with one knee on the edge of the bed, and leaned over Chen Guo to reach for the phone near the pillow.

It should have been a simple, straightforward movement, but perhaps because she was too rushed, things went awry.

As Jiang Chen grabbed the phone and started to pull back, the knee braced against the bed suddenly slipped, causing her to lose balance and tumble toward Chen Guo. Reacting quickly, she caught herself with her elbow, avoiding crushing the other girl, but her lips lightly brushed against Chen Guo’s cheek.

It was as light as a feather, almost imperceptible. Jiang Chen froze for a moment, her immediate instinct to pull away.

But when she turned her head, she found Chen Guo had woken up at some point.

Her eyes were dark and bright, fixed unblinkingly on the person before her, like deep, still pools—serene yet dangerous.

Something within them seemed on the verge of overflowing.

Realizing what was happening, Jiang Chen’s heart trembled. Chen Guo!

Before she could utter a warning, a sudden warmth touched her lips—Chen Guo had lifted her head and kissed her.

Jiang Chen stiffened instantly, frozen in place as if turned to stone. Her mind went blank after a burst of internal chaos, and for a long moment, she couldn’t react.

Chen Guo’s lips pressed against Jiang Chen’s, brushed lightly a few times, then slowly pulled away.

Her eyelids drooped slightly, fixed on Jiang Chen’s lips as her breath came out scorching hot. Your lips are so soft… just like in that dream that night.