She Is Seriously Ill - Chapter 50: Final Chapter

Chapter 50: Final Chapter

Ten Years Later

Three years after fading from public view, Jiang Chen and Chen Guo moved into a new home.

Back when Chen Guo had resigned from Jinyuan, Hao Xinyi repeatedly mentioned how short the school was of chemistry teachers and suggested Chen Guo ask the school administration if she could return. But Chen Guo ultimately felt too embarrassed to do so.

It happened that teacher recruitment was underway at the time, so Chen Guo gave it a try. Unexpectedly, she passed on her first attempt.

The new school wasn’t as close to home as Jinyuan had been, but the half-hour subway commute was still manageable. That is, until last year when the school relocated to the new district. The new campus was too far from the city center – even without traffic, the morning commute took over an hour.

Wanting Chen Guo to get more sleep each morning, Jiang Chen quietly purchased a small villa in a neighborhood near the school without prior discussion. It was a townhouse end unit – not as spacious as a standalone house, but with generous front and back gardens totaling two to three hundred square meters.

Actually, ever since they got their dog, Jiang Chen had wanted a yard where it could run freely. Plus, perhaps due to getting older, her innate Chinese farming instincts seemed to awaken – she kept wanting to grow flowers and vegetables.

Having a home with a yard would be perfect.

When Jiang Chen told Chen Guo about this, Chen Guo was surprised but didn’t inquire about the house’s size, location, or reasons for buying it. She only cared about whether Jiang Chen liked it.

Of course I like it. Why would I buy it otherwise?

Chen Guo laughed, Then take me to see it this weekend?

No problem, homeowner.

Jiang Chen laughed along. The reason she could buy the house without prior discussion was because she knew that whatever she liked, Chen Guo would inevitably like too.

The second week after completing the purchase, Jiang Chen hired a designer to start renovations. The sooner they finished decorating, the sooner they could move in, and the sooner Chen Guo could get proper sleep.

One evening when Chen Guo returned home, Jiang Chen originally wanted to discuss flooring colors for the new house. But by the time she finished showering, Chen Guo was already asleep in bed.

Jiang Chen stood by the bathroom door for a long moment, then quietly turned off the lights and got into bed. The moment she lay down, an arm wrapped around her waist as Chen Guo pulled her closer. Without even opening her eyes, Chen Guo found her lips for a kiss.

Jiang Chen didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Gently stroking Chen Guo’s back, she suggested during a breath: Maybe we should rent a place near the school first.

Chen Guo paused, immediately opening her eyes to look at Jiang Chen. Why?

Jiang Chen lowered her head, lightly brushing her nose against Chen Guo’s. Your daily commute is too exhausting.

No. Chen Guo had no desire to live separately from Jiang Chen. Seeing Chen Guo’s reaction, Jiang Chen couldn’t help smiling again. Just as she was about to say more, her nightgown was pushed up.

A sudden warmth spread across her chest, drawing an involuntary murmur from Jiang Chen. She looked down with concern, Aren’t you tired?

I’ve been waiting for you.

Though Chen Guo’s daily schedule was demanding, she had plenty of holidays. Whenever she wasn’t teaching, she would accompany Jiang Chen to shop for soft furnishings, select flowers and trees, and plan their future garden.

Working diligently against time, the two finally moved into their new home just before New Year’s Day of the following year.

The first floor of their new home had a specially reserved room for the elderly. In fact, ever since Jiang Yun remarried and settled abroad, Jiang Chen had repeatedly suggested that Dai Xiaoqin move in to live with them, but each time the offer was declined.

The elderly woman was unwilling, claiming she felt more at ease living alone.

For so many years, she and Chen Guo had lived together, inseparable.

Though Dai Xiaoqin never said anything, Jiang Chen knew she must have sensed something.

Two years ago, when Dai Xiaoqin fractured her leg, she didn’t inform either Jiang Yun or Jiang Chen. Instead, she called Chen Guo, asking her to come take care of her and specifically instructing her not to tell Jiang Chen.

Chen Guo went and cared for her for half a month, cooking meals, washing her body, and doing her laundry every day. The old lady kept chattering away, asking Chen Guo why she wasn’t married, saying that if she waited any longer, she’d become an old maid.

But in front of Jiang Chen, even though she was older than Chen Guo, Dai Xiaoqin never brought up the topic of marriage.

Jiang Yun had told her that Jiang Chen had attempted suicide, and from then on, she never pressured her daughter about marriage again.

Back then, her daughter had attempted suicide right after she left. She didn’t dare say she bore no responsibility for it.

Some things, once is enough.

As she grew older, the old lady became increasingly quiet. Nowadays, she spends her time busily traveling across the country with her group of elderly friends, filming videos.

Carefree and content, she simply has no time to concern herself with her children’s affairs.

On New Year’s Day, Chen Guo and Jiang Chen invited a group of close friends to celebrate their housewarming in a simple gathering.

Zheng Xinbao knew that Chen Guo was living a better life with Jiang Chen, but she was still stunned by the luxurious courtyard and villa as soon as she stepped inside.

While Jiang Chen was busy greeting other friends, Zheng Xinbao secretly pulled Chen Guo aside, pressing her phone against her waist as she threatened through gritted teeth, Introduce me to a rich woman too—I don’t want to struggle anymore!

Chen Guo suppressed a laugh and replied seriously, Alright, I’ll ask Jiang Chen later to see if she has any single friends.

Make sure to ask clearly—whether they’re single, divorced, or have kids.

Chen Guo burst out laughing and stopped joking with Zheng Xinbao, asking, Why didn’t you bring Qiuqiu?

Zheng Xinbao resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Her dad took her, said the grandparents missed the child.

Then stay a few extra days this time and explore the area, Chen Guo suggested.

Zheng Xinbao scoffed, I’m not staying. I get annoyed just seeing you rich people.

But joking aside, before heading inside, Zheng Xinbao quietly asked Chen Guo how things were between her and Jiang Chen—if they had any conflicts or arguments. Chen Guo gave her a puzzled look. Why do you ask? We’re doing fine.

Zheng Xinbao pursed her lips and stammered, Well… it’s just… I heard from others that even eating soft rice isn’t easy these days. I was afraid she might give you a hard time.

Chen Guo froze for a few seconds, then chuckled helplessly.

She’d been eating this soft rice for over ten years—why bring it up now?

Your aunt was a celebrity before, so it’s normal for her to earn more than you. You need to adjust your mindset so your relationship can last, understand? Zheng Xinbao never beat around the bush with Chen Guo, gently nudging her arm with an elbow. Don’t let your damn pride get in the way just because she bought a villa. Don’t be ungrateful—she’s always had that lifestyle. Why should she lower her standard of living just because she’s with you? That wouldn’t be fair. Besides—

Chen Guo cut her off. This house is under my name.

Zheng Xinbao stood frozen in place for over ten seconds before suddenly furrowing his brows fiercely and snarling, I’ll fight you rich people to the death!

Chen Guo curled his lips, offered a perfunctory reassurance, then said, Let’s go, time to head inside.

Actually, Jiang Chen had previously worried about this aspect too—concerned that Chen Guo might feel psychological burden about their relationship due to financial differences. But after a period of observation, she realized she’d been overthinking it entirely.

Though upon reflection, it made sense: if Chen Guo really had such awareness, how would he have dared to sneak into her bed in the first place?

After seeing off their friends that evening, exhausted from the long day, Jiang Chen had barely stepped into the bathroom when Chen Guo followed right behind.

But he was quickly shooed out.

Slumping dejectedly on the sofa, Chen Guo scrolled through his phone and randomly checked Weibo, unexpectedly spotting Jiang Chen’s name trending again after so long.

#Jiang Chen Walking Her Dog#

Chen Guo paused slightly and clicked into the topic.

It turned out a netizen had discovered while walking their dog that morning that the idol they’d adored for over a decade actually lived in the same neighborhood. Not wanting to disturb her, the netizen didn’t approach directly but secretly took a photo of Jiang Chen’s back view while she was walking her dog.

Unexpectedly, the next day during their walk, they encountered Jiang Chen again. Her small dog was particularly lively, circling persistently around the netizen’s larger dog.

As the two dogs played on the lawn, Jiang Chen stood nearby holding the leash, a faint smile gracing her lips as she asked the netizen how old their dog was.

That day, the two walked their dogs together like friends, exchanging plenty of pet care tips.

In the post’s conclusion, the netizen wrote: At that moment of parting, I suddenly felt selfish—I didn’t want to ask for her autograph anymore, nor beg for a photo like a fan.

Because that would feel too distant.

I want to be like a friend, just like today, walking our dogs freely under the sun, laughing and chatting with her.

After reading the entire post, Chen Guo lowered his head and remained silent for nearly ten seconds before suddenly putting down his phone, getting up, and heading into the bathroom.

By the time they finished their final shower, it was almost 1 a.m.

Back in bed, Jiang Chen didn’t even have the energy to scold anyone. The moment her head touched the pillow, all she wanted was sleep.

Chen Guo, persistent as a lingering ghost, pressed close again, resting his chin in the hollow of Jiang Chen’s shoulder. I’ll walk the dog tomorrow morning.

Are you insane… Jiang Chen mumbled with her eyes closed, too tired to entertain him.

She had to be at school by 8 a.m.—who walks dogs instead of sleeping in?

She sensed Chen Guo was acting strange tonight, bursting into the bathroom like a sudden whirlwind.

But she was far too exhausted to ponder it. Tilting her head slightly, she pressed her lips randomly against Chen Guo’s cheek. Whatever it is, talk tomorrow… I’m so sleepy…

Chen Guo chuckled softly, leaned down to kiss Jiang Chen’s lips, and whispered, Goodnight.

The next morning, when Jiang Chen woke up, Chen Guo had already left for school.

A note waited on the bedside table:

—Already walked the dog. Remember to eat.

The bedroom door nudged open as a cream-colored Pomeranian dashed in, leaping onto the bed in one bound. Jiang Chen laughed and caught her, then reached out toward the cat curled at the foot of the bed.

The cat lay there lazily, watching them unmoved.

Big sister is so aloof, huh.

Jiang Chen cupped the dog’s head with both hands, giving it an affectionate rub, then lowered her head to touch foreheads with the pup. What’s up with your mom today? Being so diligent all of a sudden.

It wasn’t until breakfast that Jiang Chen finally understood what had been bothering Chen Guo last night, after seeing the still-trending hashtag on Weibo while scrolling through her phone.

The sweet potatoes in the morning porridge were ones they’d dug up themselves during their camping trip to a suburban farm a few days earlier – exceptionally sweet. Jiang Chen nearly choked on the first spoonful from the overwhelming sweetness.

Chen Guo would turn thirty-four after the New Year. Jiang Chen couldn’t help but wonder – when she reaches forty-four, fifty-four, would she still be like this?

At her age, still completely preoccupied with matters of love and romance.

Probably would get jealous even after just holding hands with another granny during square dancing.

Thinking about it carefully, it was actually quite youthful.

Jiang Chen scrolled through a few comments and was rather surprised. Back when she was the industry’s workhorse filming several dramas a year, audiences never appreciated it – either criticizing her for making bad films or complaining about her poor acting with extreme harshness.

Now that she was gradually fading from the industry, netizens were suddenly nostalgic, clamoring for her to return to acting.

Chen Guo had also seen this last night and originally wanted to discuss it with Jiang Chen, but seeing how exhausted she was, decided not to mention it and let her sleep.

That evening when they returned home, Jiang Chen teased Chen Guo about walking the dog so early in the morning, joking that she might make the dog catch a cold.

I put clothes on her before we went out this morning, she won’t catch cold. After saying this, Chen Guo tentatively brought up, Netizens are all calling for you to return to acting. Do you want to?

Jiang Chen remained silent. Thinking she might be worried about adapting to filming again after such a long break – something akin to apprehension about returning home after long absence – Chen Guo pulled her closer and deliberately joked: When you do, can I be your assistant?

Is that really what you’d be there for as an assistant? Jiang Chen glanced sideways at Chen Guo, not bothering to expose her true intentions.

Without changing her expression, Chen Guo said, Why not? I’d take care of you even better than an assistant could.

Jiang Chen couldn’t help but laugh. Chen Guo gently stroked her cheek with a finger, Finally smiling.

Closing her book and placing it on the bedside table, Jiang Chen leaned against Chen Guo’s shoulder. Netizens said she hadn’t filmed for five or six years, but it hadn’t actually been that long.

It had only been these past three years since the talent agency she co-founded with Tang Jing gradually became established, with their signed artists now capable of carrying projects themselves without needing her to make appearances with them everywhere.

Plus, perhaps it was also due to her age – especially approaching forty – that the drive she once had seemed to have faded considerably.

Compared to working year-round filming and rushing between appointments, she now preferred sitting with Chen Guo at some unknown foreign roadside cafe, unrecognized by anyone, with no schedules to keep or anyone to please – just the two of them, sitting there leisurely drinking coffee, basking in the sunlight.

Or on some rainy afternoon, staying indoors with their cats and dogs curled up together on the sofa, watching that old movie they’d seen countless times.

Outside the window, the gentle patter of rain fell as the cat jumped onto the windowsill, curiously watching raindrops fall from the eaves.

The dog watched foolishly as they kissed.

After a long moment, Jiang Chen took Chen Guo’s hand, smiled and shook her head, No, I don’t want to. Things are perfectly fine as they are now.

She used to think this kind of life would be boring, but now she found she could never get enough of it.

Hopefully it could last a lifetime.

Chen Guo leaned down to kiss her. Looking at her face, Jiang Chen suddenly felt a pang in her heart.

No.

A lifetime wouldn’t be nearly enough.

Ahhhhh it’s finished it’s finished it’s finally finished!!! This book really took a long time to write, but fortunately it’s completed without giving up. Thank you all for not giving up either and following through to the end. Thank you thank you (bows repeatedly).