The Young Miss Refuse To Love
Chapter 93: Everything about you

Chapter 93: Everything about you

"Tell me," Song Chengfeng said as he handed her an apple, its skin carefully peeled to perfection, breaking the silence that lingered between them. "Tell me about your life in your world."

Though he still struggled to fully accept the truth—that the woman he loved didn’t belong to his world—his desire to understand her life overpowered his unease. He wanted to know her, the real her, in the place she once called home.

Qi Jianyi accepted the apple, her movements deliberate as she used a fork to skewer a piece. Taking a small bite, she savoured the sweetness before responding.

"What do you want to know?" she asked, her voice calm but tinged with caution.

She wouldn’t admit it openly, but after finally revealing the truth about her origins, Qi Jianyi felt an unfamiliar sense of peace. It was as if a storm of anxiety that had raged within her for so long had finally stilled.

Watching Song Chengfeng’s expression, marked by genuine curiosity instead of doubt or ridicule, only deepened that calm.

He had listened. He had accepted her confession—without hesitation, without mockery, without judgement.

The story she had shared, of a girl who had suddenly found herself transmigrated into another world, was extraordinary and improbable, the kind of tale that would invite disbelief and scorn from anyone else.

If others heard her story, they would likely laugh, dismissing her as delusional or simply making it up for attention.

But Song Chengfeng hadn’t laughed. He hadn’t doubted her for a moment. Instead, he had taken her words, strange and surreal as they were, as undeniable truth.

How could Qi Jianyi not be moved by this? By the quiet yet profound way he declared his belief in her without needing grand gestures or flowery words?

His actions, subtle yet powerful, spoke of a trust that was unwavering, a faith in her that defied all logic.

"Everything," he said, his voice steady and resolute, yet gentle. "From the moment your life began to how you ended up here." His words carried the weight of his curiosity, an earnest desire to know the full depth of her story.

Qi Jianyi met his gaze, her defenses wavering in the face of his sincerity. For a moment, she hesitated, the enormity of baring her soul making her grip the fork just a little tighter.

But as she looked at him—this man who peeled an apple for her as though offering her a piece of his world—she felt a rare sense of reassurance.

Maybe, just maybe, it was safe to share her past with him.

With a gentle smile, Qi Jianyi leaned back against the cold hospital wall. She sat upright on the bed, her posture relaxed, leisurely eating slices of apple while Song Chengfeng sat opposite her. Between them was the small hospital table, its surface barely wide enough to hold the shared intimacy of their conversation.

"I’m twenty years old," Qi Jianyi began, her tone calm and measured.

"As I said before, my appearance in that world is identical to how you see me now. I was a student, fresh out of my first-semester finals, before I suddenly woke up here. That was two weeks before you and I met." She spoke slowly, her gaze lingering on him, studying every flicker of his reaction.

"You look exactly the same as this?" Song Chengfeng asked, a note of wonder in his voice. Despite her assurances, he couldn’t quite shake the lingering regret of never seeing her true self in her real world.

Tilting her head thoughtfully, Qi Jianyi paused, carefully weighing her response.

"You could say we look the same, though there’s a slight difference," she said after a moment. Her fingers lightly tapped the fork she held before setting it down.

"Maybe it’s in the eyes. She always looked... distant, didn’t she? Detached, like someone who didn’t care to connect with anyone. As for me—well, I suppose I still appear cold at first glance, but not so much that people are afraid to approach me."

She smiled faintly, her expression tinged with something bittersweet. "The real difference between us wasn’t in our looks but in our lives."

"She lived a life most would envy," Qi Jianyi continued, her voice soft yet steady. "A life of privilege, born into wealth and comfort. I, on the other hand, lived modestly, always striving to pull my family out of poverty. We’re two people with the same face, but with fates as different as night and day."

Song Chengfeng frowned slightly, his brow furrowed as he tried to reconcile the image of the girl before him with the world she described. He imagined her in both lives—one of ease, the other of relentless effort.

Noticing his expression, Qi Jianyi’s smile widened, her tone lightening. "Still keeping up?" she teased, her voice holding a playful warmth that contrasted with the gravity of her words.

Her question pulled him from his thoughts, and though he didn’t answer immediately, his gaze softened as he nodded, signaling for her to go on.

As Qi Jianyi described how her appearance differed subtly from the original Qi Jianyi, Song Chengfeng couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy toward anyone who had seen her true self.

The thought of her real face, untouched by the weight of transmigration, stirred something restless within him.

Sensing his wandering thoughts, Qi Jianyi sighed and interrupted. "Stop imagining things," she said firmly. "When I took over this body, even if it was just a shell, it wasn’t fixed. My appearance now reflects how I looked in my original world. I don’t carry the same gloominess she had because, at the very least, my life wasn’t as tragic as hers."

Her tone was practical, dismissing any point in dwelling on a reality he would never witness. After all, what was the use of conjuring up a vision of her real self when that image would remain forever out of reach?

Song Chengfeng, perhaps sensing the futility of lingering on the subject, shifted the conversation entirely.

"You mentioned you enjoy writing," he said, his tone light as he diverted the topic. "Are you an author?"

The question caught Qi Jianyi slightly off guard, and for a brief moment, she blinked at him in surprise. She hadn’t expected him to connect her passion to something so specific so quickly.

He just remembered that Qi Jianyi had once said she liked writing more than doing business. He found it ironic, considering it came from Qi Jianyi, the daughter of a billionaire businessman.

Those born into families tied to the business world would almost always find themselves immersed in that industry. Rarely did they stray from the paths shaped by their inherited wealth.

After all, the foundation was already laid out before them, complete with countless opportunities and established connections. Why would anyone abandon such a clear and advantageous path to pursue something entirely different?

Now, everything made sense.

Qi Jianyi smiled faintly and nodded. "Yes," she said, her tone tinged with a hint of pride.

"I’m the youngest author to have received so much love and recognition from readers across the country."

As she spoke, her mind drifted back to the moment she had stood on a grand stage, clutching her first award as an author. She could still hear the applause, the sound of hands clapping in celebration of her hard work.

The memory lit up her expression, her smile softening with a mixture of nostalgia and quiet satisfaction.

Her joy in recounting that achievement was palpable, and for a moment, even Song Chengfeng could see the happiness in her eyes.

It was a triumphant moment for seventeen-year-old Qi Jianyi.

"But it didn’t last long," she murmured softly, the reminder of her downfall clouding her expression for a fleeting moment.

"I started writing when I was fifteen," she began, her voice steady yet tinged with nostalgia.

"A year later, my work started to get noticed, and it received attention from across the country. After that, I released book after book, and every single one became a hit. In just one year, I published three books back-to-back, and all of them became million-sellers. Impressive, isn’t it?" She looked at Song Chengfeng with a small smile, the same smile that once lit up her teenage years, a smile that unknowingly melted his heart.

Song Chengfeng shook his head, a warm smile spreading across his face. "It’s more than impressive. You’re truly a genius," he said, his voice filled with sincerity.

A proud look flashed across his features, as though it was he who had achieved those milestones. Even though he hadn’t been there to witness her success firsthand, hearing about it was enough to fill him with pride.

"That’s too much," Qi Jianyi retorted, rolling her eyes at his over-the-top compliment.

"I’m just stating the truth," he shrugged nonchalantly.

"I’m far from a genius, Chengfeng," Qi Jianyi said, shaking her head as a soft sigh escaped her lips. "I was just a desperate girl trying to pull her family out of debt and poverty. Back then, all I could think about was money. Fame came second."

"But everything you’ve done, the recognition you earned, didn’t come out of nowhere," Song Chengfeng argued, undeterred. "A fifteen-year-old who could write stories so compelling that they captured the hearts of countless people? That’s not just talent—that’s genius."

He had already made up his mind. To him, the woman he admired and adored was nothing short of brilliant.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night," Qi Jianyi sighed, finally giving up. Let him construct his version of her—the proud, successful prodigy. She decided it wasn’t worth the effort to argue further.

But Song Chengfeng wasn’t done. His expression grew serious as he pinched her cheek lightly to get her attention. "Why are you downplaying your achievements, Jianyi? And what do you mean by your success didn’t last long?"

Pouting slightly, Qi Jianyi smacked his hand away, glaring at him playfully. "The higher you climb, the worse it feels when you fall. Let’s just leave it at that," she replied with a soft, bittersweet smile.

Her words carried a weight she didn’t want to elaborate on. Qi Jianyi didn’t want to revisit those dark memories—it hadn’t been long enough for the pain to fade. Only two years had passed since everything she worked so hard to build had crumbled. The wounds were still fresh.

Noticing her reluctance and the sadness lingering in her eyes, Song Chengfeng chose not to press further. If it was a pain she wasn’t ready to share, he wouldn’t force her.

Instead, he raised his brows, attempted to playfully accuse her. "So you lied when you said I was your first reader," he grumbled with a mock-annoyed tone.

Hearing the sulk in his voice, Qi Jianyi giggled softly, trying to keep a straight face. "Of course not!" she replied, feigning innocence. "I said you’d be my first reader in this world. So, technically, I didn’t lie." She shrugged as though her logic was irrefutable.

Her playful attitude only made Song Chengfeng’s heart stir.

"I’ll let that slide," he said with a grumble, pretending to be annoyed. But the truth was, he was happy—happy that he could make her smile, even if it was at his expense.