Ten Thousand Soul Banner: Deceased, do you have any unfulfilled wishes?-Chapter 1153 - 1149: Missed Love

Han Qiaoqi stood still, looking at Chen Youming’s back, feeling a sudden pang of pain in her heart.

In her memory, Chen Youming was always clean and fresh, with his white shirt collar neatly buttoned, hair tidily combed, and even when wearing the Agricultural Institute’s work clothes in the orchard, his sleeves were properly rolled up, always with a gentle smile between his brows. But the person before her had his hair messily stuck to his forehead, his washed-out work clothes stained with dirt and fruit marks, a thick layer of stubble sprouting on his chin, and faint dark circles under his eyes, looking droopy and lifeless, like frost-bitten crops, devoid of any former spirit and vigor.

He just stood there in front of a mango tree, clutching a crumpled notebook, moving his pen slowly across the paper, occasionally stopping to rub his aching eyes, his gaze dazed.

Han Qiaoqi walked over gently, her steps light like a breeze, stopping beside him.

She saw densely written words in the notebook, all records about the care of fruit trees, but the handwriting was crooked, far less neat than before, and even some parts were smudged by wet stains, blurring the ink marks.

"How did you become like this..."

Han Qiaoqi murmured softly, the voice only audible to herself, her fingertips instinctively wanting to touch his arm, yet passing straight through, only feeling a hint of cool air.

Chen Youming seemed to sense something, abruptly turning his head, scanning the spot where Han Qiaoqi stood, finding no one there.

He frowned, a trace of disappointment flashing in his eyes, laughing at himself, raising a hand to pat the trunk beside him, "Guess I was imagining things; who’s really going to come..."

After speaking, he turned back, continuing to write and draw in the notebook, though his pen paused, whispering softly, "Qiao Xi, the growth of the fruit trees is good this year, another harvest year. Remember the time when we helped your parents sell fruit at the market..."

His voice was very soft, tinged with a heavy nasal tone, "How could you suddenly be gone... I haven’t had the chance to tell you, the lychee variety I improved bears particularly sweet fruit, and I wanted you to taste it..."

"I should have contacted you earlier, I should have told you..."

Chen Youming murmured low, filled with self-reproach.

Han Qiaoqi watched his remorseful look, feeling an intense pain in her heart as if something was gripping it tightly.

She wanted to tell him it wasn’t his fault, it was her own foolishness in the past.

But she couldn’t say anything, just watched him immersed in guilt and longing, watching him wear himself out like this.

Chen Youming squatted down, looking at the newly sprouted seedlings under the tree, his voice softer, "Your parents are not in great health lately and seem to be worried all the time. Zhou Zifu, that brat, keeps visiting your house, saying he’s helping, but who knows what’s on his mind. I want to help them with the orchard, keep them company, but they always feel it’s because of you, making things awkward..."

"I am because of you..."

He raised his hand to wipe his face, his fingers brushing against the corner of his eyes, damp with tears, "Qiao Xi, I’ve liked you for many years. Ever since we walked through countless alleys together during school, I’ve liked you..."

"I was waiting for you to break up with Zhou Zifu, for me to become a bit more outstanding, to confess my feelings..."

These words were spoken lightly but hid endless regret and bitterness, like thin needles piercing deeply into Han Qiaoqi’s heart.

She never knew Chen Youming liked her for so many years, never knew the person who always gently accompanied her, listened to her vent, helped solve her problems, had such feelings hidden within.

If only she hadn’t ended up like this, if only Chen Youming wasn’t so discouraged, if only her parents hadn’t been fooled by Zhou Zifu, treating an enemy like family?

But there’s no "if" in life.

If only she hadn’t been blinded by Zhou Zifu’s "excellence" back then.

If only she had broken up with Zhou Zifu decisively after seeing his true face, not believing his lies later on.

If only she had noticed the gentleness in Chen Youming’s eyes, would things be different?

"But I’m still too late..."

Han Qiaoqi looked at Chen Youming squatting under the tree, his shoulders trembling slightly, her eyes reddened, tears silently falling, transforming into a wisp of smoke, dispersing in the wind.

She raised her hand, gently stroking the top of Chen Youming’s head, wanting to comfort him just like he used to comfort her, even if she couldn’t touch anything real.

But she couldn’t do anything, or no, she could do it, Han Qiaoqi felt an urge to become visible and meet Chen Youming.

But she was afraid her ghostly appearance would frighten him, hesitated for a long time, ultimately unable to hold back.

She quietly retreated behind a sturdy fruit tree, her originally ethereal form gradually solidifying.

She took a deep breath, clenched her fists, yet couldn’t stop herself from making a slight sound.

"Who’s there?"

Chen Youming’s voice immediately sounded, carrying a hint of alertness.

Han Qiaoqi intended to meet him, but when it came to it, she felt a little timid, hesitated for a couple of seconds, then bit her lip and carefully walked out from behind the tree.

Although it was already dinner time, it didn’t mean the day had completely darkened, not to mention the sun in Bin Hai always sets late.

At this moment, the sky still held lingering twilight, dyeing half of the sky in orange-red.

Han Qiaoqi stopped a few steps away from Chen Youming, nervously looking at him, feeling cold sweat in her palms.

She thought she would see fear, screaming, even scenes of fleeing in panic, but Chen Youming just stared at her blankly, his eyes widening, pupils slightly contracting, yet his face showed no sign of fear, instead, he seemed incredulous, rubbing his eyes, blinking hard.

Han Qiaoqi was bewildered, somewhat surprised.

She instinctively stepped back half a step, her voice trembling slightly, "You’re... you’re not afraid of me..."

Chen Youming didn’t immediately reply, just looked at her deeply, his gaze tracing from her brows to the hem of her clothes, inch by inch, as if wanting to engrave her image into his bones.

His gaze was incredibly complex, containing shock, joy, pain, and unending longing, but without a trace of fear.

After a long time, he finally spoke slowly, his voice hoarse, sounding raw from long periods of not speaking well, "Are you Han Qiaoqi?"

"It’s me."

"Will you harm me?"

"Of course not, how could I harm you?"

Upon hearing this answer, Chen Youming suddenly smiled.

The smile was shallow, yet it seemed to penetrate the gloom of recent days, instantly bringing his worn face to life, his eyes gleaming with warmth.

"Since you’re not going to harm me, why should I be afraid?"

He spoke softly, his tone gentle, "And besides..."