The Young Miss Refuse To Love-Chapter 133: Mom is waiting for me...

Qi Jianyi wiped the blood from her lips with trembling hands, her fingers pale and shaky. The metallic taste lingered, a cruel reminder of her deteriorating state. She splashed cold water on her face, hoping it would bring her some semblance of normalcy.

But no matter how much she tried to compose herself, the burning pain in her chest and the throbbing in her head refused to relent.

Her breaths came shallow and labored, each one a struggle, yet she forced herself to move. Step by step, she trudged back to her bed, her legs feeling like lead, her body screaming in protest.

When she finally reached the bed, her strength gave out entirely. She collapsed onto the mattress, her limbs heavy and lifeless.

Qi Jianyi lay there, staring at the ceiling, her chest rising and falling unevenly as she tried to relax. She focused on her breathing, attempting to push past the pain and the oppressive weight in her chest. The sharp headache continued to hammer at her skull, but she gritted her teeth and endured it.

Just as she was beginning to steady herself, a sudden knock at the door startled her. It was quick and enthusiastic, accompanied by the muffled sound of familiar voices.

"Sister, can we come in?"

Qi Jianyi’s heart raced in panic at the sound of the twins. Her breath hitched, and before she could stop it, a cough escaped her throat. She hurriedly covered her mouth with her hand, muffling the sound as best she could.

Her mind raced as she tried to compose herself. They’re back already? How did they return so soon?

The knocking paused briefly, and then Qi Jinlu’s voice called out again, louder this time, "Sister Jianyi?" His tone was laced with confusion, and Qi Jianyi could almost picture him standing at the door, his head tilted in concern.

"Is she asleep?" Qi Jinlu murmured, turning to his twin.

Qi Jinli, ever the more observant of the two, furrowed his brows as he considered the situation. He glanced down at his watch, his expression serious.

"It’s noon," he said after a moment. "She must be taking a nap."

His words carried a sense of finality, and he nudged Qi Jinlu gently to stop him from knocking again. "Let her rest. She’s always cranky when we wake her up from a nap."

Although the twins were brimming with excitement, eager to share the news of their recent victory with their beloved sister, they understood the risks of disturbing her rest. Sleepy Qi Jianyi was not someone they wanted to face.

Outside the door, the twins exchanged glances, their enthusiasm tempered by caution. Inside, Qi Jianyi exhaled a shaky breath of relief, grateful for their decision to leave her be.

She really didn’t want to meet the twins—or any of her family members—while she was in such a fragile state. The mere thought of them seeing her like this made her chest tighten further, though she wasn’t sure if it was the illness or the weight of her emotions causing the sensation.

If they knew about her condition... What would they do? Qi Jianyi’s mind spiraled with possibilities, none of them comforting. Would her parents cry? Would they become frantic, searching high and low for a miracle doctor to save her?

The image of Mr. Qi pacing back and forth, his usually stern face etched with worry, came to mind. Beside him, Mrs. Qi would be wringing her hands, her voice trembling as she pleaded with doctors for help.

Would they blame themselves for not noticing sooner? Would their love, so overwhelming and all-consuming, become a burden too heavy to bear for her in her final days?

For a moment, Qi Jianyi let herself ponder these questions. What would happen when this frail body finally gave out? When her soul left it behind, would the original Qi Jianyi come back?

The thought sent a chill down her spine. If the original returned, would Mr. Qi and Mrs. Qi notice the difference? Would they realize that their real daughter had come back to them, that she had been gone all this time?

Would they even notice the change at all?

She tried to imagine the scene: the real Qi Jianyi waking up, disoriented but alive, her parents hovering over her with tears in their eyes. Would she be grateful for the second chance she had been given? Or would she be horrified to learn that she had returned to the very world she tried hard to leave?

In the end, no answers came to her. There were too many unknowns, too little time.

Her eyelids grew heavier, and the sharp pain in her head dulled slightly, replaced by an oppressive weariness. She let out a shallow breath, her body sinking deeper into the mattress as she succumbed to the overwhelming exhaustion.

Darkness crept in, enveloping her completely, and for the first time in a long while, Qi Jianyi stopped fighting it. She closed her eyes, her mind slipping into the abyss, and allowed herself to fall into the void of unconsciousness.

...

"Jianyi, are you hungry?"

The soft, gentle voice tugged Qi Jianyi from the depths of her slumber. It was unmistakable—Mother Qi’s voice. Not Mrs. Qi, the mother of the body she currently inhabited, but her mother. Her real mother.

Her heart skipped a beat as the tender tone reached her ears, the warmth of it wrapping around her like a long-lost embrace. For a moment, she felt at peace, her chest swelling with the bittersweet comfort of familiarity.

But reality came crashing back with the weight of realization. This couldn’t be real. It wasn’t possible. With a heavy sigh, Qi Jianyi forced her eyes open. She was dreaming again. She had to be.

Turning her head toward the source of the voice, she braced herself to see Mother Qi’s familiar face, but what greeted her was far from what she expected.

Standing before her was not just her mother—it was herself.

Qi Jianyi blinked, her mind struggling to process the sight before her. There, right in front of her, stood another her. The same face, the same features, the same presence she used to see in the mirror every day.

Her heart clenched, a wave of confusion sweeping through her. What was this? How was this possible?

She took a tentative step forward, trying to get a better look, but froze as the realization struck her. They couldn’t see her.

She was nothing more than a phantom, a spectator in what felt like a scene plucked straight from her memories—or was it a figment of her imagination?

The other her turned to Mother Qi, her face lighting up with a smile so radiant it tugged at Qi Jianyi’s heart.

"I’m fine, Mom. Don’t worry," the reflection of herself said, her voice carrying a warmth and lightness that Qi Jianyi had forgotten she once possessed.

Qi Jianyi reached out instinctively, her hand trembling as she tried to touch the version of herself standing there. But her fingers passed through the air, meeting nothing but emptiness.

She was truly a ghost here, a mere observer of this dreamlike tableau.

Her throat tightened, and she swallowed hard, her emotions warring within her. Was this a memory? A vision? Or just her subconscious playing tricks on her, taunting her with a glimpse of what she had lost?

Her gaze shifted to Mother Qi, whose face was soft with affection, a look that spoke volumes about her unconditional love. "You’re sure? You’ve been working so hard lately. I don’t want you to overdo it," Mother Qi said, her concern evident.

The dream version of Qi Jianyi chuckled lightly, waving her mother’s worries away. "I’m really fine. You worry too much, Mom."

The simplicity of their exchange stung Qi Jianyi deeply. She longed to call out to them, to make them see her, to feel her mother’s comforting touch again. But no matter how much she wanted it, she knew she couldn’t.

"Jianyi... is there something bothering you?" Mother Qi’s voice was soft, but the concern in her tone was unmistakable.

She sat down beside her daughter, her movements slow and deliberate, as if afraid she might scare her away. Gently, she raised her hand and stroked the dream version of Qi Jianyi’s hair with a tenderness that tugged at the invisible Qi Jianyi’s heart.

"There’s nothing wrong, Mom. Why do you suddenly ask me that?" The other Qi Jianyi tilted her head, her smile warm but not entirely convincing. Her hands rested in her lap, fingers twisting nervously despite her words of reassurance.

The real Qi Jianyi—or perhaps, the unseen one—stood a few steps away, watching the scene with a hollow ache in her chest. She hated this kind of dream. It was crueler than the ones where she could interact with her family.

At least then, she could pretend, even for a fleeting moment, that she still belonged to their world.

But here, in this memory—or what felt like one—she was nothing but a silent observer, a ghost in her own life.

Her gaze lingered on her dream self, sitting there so vividly alive. The way her mother’s fingers smoothed down her hair, the flicker of concern in Mother Qi’s eyes—it all felt painfully real. Too real.

This isn’t a dream, Qi Jianyi thought, her mind racing. It’s a memory. But why does it feel... wrong?

The scene unfolded with an uncanny clarity that left her questioning if it was something she had forgotten, or worse, a memory she had never lived at all.

Mother Qi’s eyes studied her daughter’s face, her frown softening into a bittersweet smile. "Ever since you came back from your semester break, something’s changed about you," she said, her voice gentle yet probing. "So, Mom was just wondering if something happened to you at university. That’s all."

The dream Qi Jianyi flinched almost imperceptibly, but quickly masked it with a chuckle. "Mom, you worry too much. I’m just tired from all the assignments and exams. You know how hectic university life can be." She waved a hand dismissively, her smile widening as if to reassure both herself and her mother.

But the real Qi Jianyi saw through the façade. She knew herself too well—or at least, she thought she did. The nervous way her dream self avoided eye contact, the slight hesitation in her words—it was all too telling.

Qi Jianyi’s breath caught in her throat as the truth unfolded before her. This wasn’t a figment of her imagination, nor a mere dream conjured by longing—it was a memory. Not hers, but the original Qi Jianyi’s.

Her suspicion had been correct all along: the original Qi Jianyi had crossed over to her world and was living her life.

The scene before her, vibrant and raw, was proof of it. Mother Qi’s gentle yet probing concern, the subtle hesitations of the fake Qi Jianyi, and the emotions that radiated from every interaction—it was all real. This had happened in her world, to her family.

Qi Jianyi’s chest tightened as she saw the worry etched into Mother Qi’s face. Her mother had noticed. She’d sensed that something was amiss with her daughter. The realization made Qi Jianyi’s tears spill over.

Mom, you always knew me best.

On the other side of the memory, Mother Qi’s gaze lingered on the ’fake’ Qi Jianyi. Her concern didn’t waver as she reached out, taking her daughter’s hand in hers. The gesture was tender, grounding, filled with unspoken love.

"You know you can tell me anything, right?" Mother Qi said softly, her voice brimming with warmth. "No matter what it is, your father and I will always support you."

The fake Qi Jianyi hesitated. For the briefest moment, her practiced smile faltered. But she quickly recovered, nodding with a quiet, "I know, Mom. Thank you."

To anyone else, it might have seemed like an ordinary exchange—a mother and daughter sharing a moment of closeness. But to Qi Jianyi, the invisible observer, it was a gut-wrenching confirmation.

That’s not me. That’s not your real daughter, Mom.

She longed to intervene, to warn her mother. To explain that the person sitting beside her wasn’t the Qi Jianyi she had raised, but an intruder. Her hands trembled as she reached out, hoping to grasp her mother’s hand, to make her see the truth.

But her fingers passed through, like smoke meeting air. The realization struck her again, cruel and unforgiving: she was nothing more than a ghost in this memory.

The scene began to blur, the vivid colors fading around the edges as if the memory itself was reluctant to let her linger.

Qi Jianyi closed her eyes, letting her tears fall freely. This wasn’t a dream.

For so long, she had been fighting, clinging to the hope of returning to her world. There had been moments of doubt, times when the weight of her struggle felt unbearable.

But now, she had a reason—an irrefutable truth that reignited her resolve.

Her mother had sensed the difference. And if Mother Qi could notice that something was wrong, she would eventually realize the truth.

Qi Jianyi knew her family intimately. She was the firstborn, the eldest daughter. Though her parents might have spoiled her younger sister, but Qi Jianyi was irreplaceable in their hearts. She had always been the first princess in their lives.

They knew her habits, her dreams, her quirks—everything that made her her. Especially her mother, who had always shared an unbreakable bond with her. ƒгeewebnovёl_com

She couldn’t give up.

I have to go back. Her fists clenched as the fading memory left her with nothing but darkness and the steady rhythm of her own heartbeat.

Mom is waiting for me.

No matter how difficult the journey or how many obstacles lay ahead, she would find her way back. She had to.

Because her real family—her real life—was waiting.

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