Who is Helping Me Win by Lying Down [Transmigration] - Chapter 90

Chapter 90

A familiar scene.

A familiar awards ceremony, familiar congratulatory speeches.

Chen Shu slightly furrowed his brows and casually handed the trophy in his hand to the staff beside him before heading out to the car.

Fang Shijie quickly followed: Wait for me!

After they got in the car, the van slowly started moving.

To the hotel, Fang Shijie told the driver.

The driver paused: But isn’t Brother Shu flying out today?

Stay with me today? Fang Shijie nudged Chen Shu’s shoulder, Just tonight. After tonight, you can go wherever you want tomorrow.

Chen Shu turned to look at him.

Fang Shijie’s eyes were full of expectation: Just one night. You wouldn’t be so heartless, would you?

Just as Chen Shu was about to agree, glaring camera flashes passed by outside the car window.

He frowned and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, the gemstone cufflinks at his wrist shimmered with a captivating azure glow.

Chen Shu?

Chen Shu snapped back to reality.

He looked at Fang Shijie: Next time.

Fang Shijie’s face fell with disappointment: Next time again? Chen Shu, when have you ever not said ‘next time’? When has there ever been a ‘next time’?

Don’t be unreasonable. There will be opportunities in the future. After speaking, Chen Shu lowered his gaze to his right hand.

But the formalwear prepared by the brand didn’t include sapphire cufflinks.

Had that been an illusion just now?

Fang Shijie persisted: You’re really willing to abandon me, wandering alone abroad?

Chen Shu said: I am.

… Fang Shijie was speechless.

Chen Shu nodded to the driver.

Understanding the signal, the driver continued speeding toward the airport.

Along the way, the car was unusually quiet.

Chen Shu glanced at Fang Shijie because of this.

Fang Shijie looked back too, his once cheerful eyes now overflowing with sorrow.

Chen Shu, he said, don’t go.

Chen Shu’s brow furrowed: Shijie?

But time flowed like water outside the window, and the airport arrived in the blink of an eye.

Looking around, the grief in Fang Shijie’s eyes became more evident: Chen Shu, stay. Don’t board this plane.

His unusual behavior was obvious, forcing Chen Shu to ask: What’s really going on?

This is the last chance, Fang Shijie gripped him tightly, Come back. Everyone is waiting for you.

Chen Shu’s frown deepened: Come back?

Suddenly.

The faint sound of a heart monitor seemed to echo in his ears.

Beep—beep—

Before Chen Shu could hear it clearly, Fang Shijie’s urgent questioning resumed.

What are you hesitating for?

Hesitating?

Don’t you want to come back?

Come back.

Chen Shu’s mind felt slightly swollen.

A conversation broke through the barrier and surged forth.

I will come back. It was his own voice, This is my promise to you.

Can you guarantee it?

I guarantee it.

Chen Shu raised his hand to pinch the bridge of his nose.

Fang Shijie stepped closer: Chen Shu?

Chen Shu looked up at him.

So it was another dream.

Shijie, let go.

But Fang Shijie held on tighter: Chen Shu, we’re running out of time. Stop hesitating and come with me!

Chen Shu ignored him and continued forward.

Fang Shijie’s hand suddenly turned transparent, offering no resistance at all.

Chen Shu walked toward the plane that remained eternally stationary.

This was just a dream—ultimately, he was still in control.

Chen Shu!!

Chen Shu hadn’t intended to look back, but Fang Shijie’s voice was unprecedentedly desperate. His steps halted, and he finally turned to face him.

What are you doing?! Fang Shijie wept bitterly, shouting with all his might, Have you forgotten? This is your home!!

Chen Shu froze slightly.

Fang Shijie’s voice trembled, Come back…

The faint beeping of the ECG monitor echoed once more.

Chen Shu closed his eyes, listening intently.

In the still space, the scent of disinfectant seemed to drift past his nostrils.

—Chen Shu, that world is pulling you back.

Remembering Yan Jingchuan’s words, Chen Shu’s gaze deepened.

Could there truly be a connection between this dream and reality?

To leave or to stay.

Memories of the past surged like tidal waves, rolling and flashing before him one scene after another.

Nameless had wrapped filming, awaiting release. The dividends would more than suffice to clear the Chen family’s debts, leaving nothing worth clinging to.

And as for everything already attained in the original world—was there any need to relive it all?

Before his memories could fully unfold, the face of one person abruptly surfaced in his heart, dominating his mind as forcefully as the man himself.

Finally, he uttered in a deep voice, Don’t leave me.

A faint, inadvertent smile touched Chen Shu’s lips.

He opened his eyes and looked at Fang Shijie.

Come back, Chen Shu… Fang Shijie reached out, his voice choked with sobs, Wake up, please…

The person before him remained just as he remembered.

Chen Shu realized that perhaps waking from this dream would mean a permanent farewell.

Shijie.

Fang Shijie seemed to sense something in this dream world too. He took a couple of steps forward, then broke into a desperate run. No! Chen Shu!!

Chen Shu took one last, deep look at him and said softly, Take care.

With those words, he turned and boarded the plane.

Why! Fang Shijie cried out tearfully, Don’t you want to come home? Everyone is waiting for you!!

Though resolved to leave, Chen Shu paused once more.

Shijie, the future you asked me to seek—I must move forward to find it.

His words traversed time and space, dissipating into the wind.

Once on the plane, a flash of white light appeared before his eyes again.

Chen Shu waited to wake from the dream, but contrary to his expectations, instead of the hospital equipment sounds he’d heard earlier, he now stood before the hospital, surrounded not by silence but by stifled sobs.

Following the path cleared by the crowd on either side, Chen Shu entered the hospital. Fang Shijie was just emerging, holding a funeral portrait.

His tears had long dried, his expression numb with grief. Stumbling on the steps, he was steadied by staff beside him.

Chen Shu’s hand passed straight through his arm—nothing but an illusion.

Amid the dense crowd, no one could see the shadow that no longer belonged to this world.

This was a funeral.

Fans from around the world arrived in droves, their unfamiliar faces etched with sorrow.

Chen Shu moved with the crowd, witnessing the entirety of his own funeral.

He had no relatives; only Fang Shijie, who had grown up with him, handled everything from start to finish.

When it was all over, Fang Shijie walked alone beneath the evening trees.

A gust of wind swept by, and he suddenly froze, looking up at the sky.

Chen Shu met his gaze, but those eyes lacked focus, as if hearing something that brought him a dazed sense of release.

Chen Shu…

The next moment, Chen Shu felt a powerful pull.

Fang Shijie’s figure grew increasingly distant in his vision until it vanished entirely.

His eyes snapped open.

Zhang Shi, who had been delivering a work report, noticed and jumped, nearly dropping his folder.

Mr. Chen! he exclaimed joyfully, You’re finally awake!

Yan Jingchuan shot to his feet.

He was already at the bedside, reaching Chen Shu in a single stride.

How are you feeling? Yan Jingchuan leaned down and took Chen Shu’s hand, his gaze unwavering. Are you uncomfortable anywhere?

Chen Shu shook his head slightly.

Just like the previous two times he had fallen unconscious, he felt no discomfort, though this time he sensed some weakness, even struggling to sit up in bed.

How long have I been asleep? Noticing the bed was in a bedroom rather than a hospital, he asked casually.

Yan Jingchuan, who had just picked up the water cup from the bedside table, paused at the question before turning to look at him. Twenty-three days.

Chen Shu frowned. What?

Yan Jingchuan helped him sit up.

Chen Shu raised his hand to take the cup, but even the simple act of drinking water felt momentarily challenging.

Had he been lying down for twenty-three days?

I thought… this time you wouldn’t wake up.

Hearing this, Chen Shu turned to look at Yan Jingchuan.

After twenty-three days, Yan Jingchuan no longer carried the disheveled appearance from the previous week, but his lips were paler, and his usually cold eyes were tinged with red, radiating an unnervingly calm resolve.

I told you, I’ve never broken a promise, Chen Shu said, raising his hand to press against the back of Yan Jingchuan’s head, pulling him into an embrace. You should believe me.

Yan Jingchuan buried his face in Chen Shu’s neck, listening to the heartbeat he had missed for twenty-three long days. He closed his eyes tightly, holding Chen Shu close, and after a long pause, spoke in a muffled voice, You made me wait a long time.

Chen Shu said, Then I apologize to you.

I don’t need your apology, Yan Jingchuan replied. I just need you to promise me, next time—

Chen Shu gently pulled back, his movement cutting off the sentence.

Zhang Shi, watching them, silently retreated and closed the door behind him.

Inside the room.

Yan Jingchuan looked at Chen Shu.

Chen Shu said, You guessed right. My dreams are related to my subconscious.

Yan Jingchuan’s fingers tightened abruptly.

But there won’t be a next time, Chen Shu continued. This time is the last.

Yan Jingchuan held his breath quietly. You mean…

I can’t go back anymore.

Chen Shu looked at him with a smile. Director Yan, I’m giving you all my future.