Chapter 1

Chapter 1

After death, I became increasingly certain that Song Cheng might never have truly loved me.

When the police called Song Cheng to ask him to come to the morgue to identify my body, he thought it was just a prank I had orchestrated with my friends.

He thought this was the olive branch I was offering to end our fight.

We had just had a massive argument before I died. I had seen a message from his ex-girlfriend on his phone. In reality, it was just a normal work-related exchange without any inappropriate or flirtatious language, but a girl’s sensitive suspicions got the better of me, and I couldn’t control my emotions.

His ex-girlfriend was the ‘white moonlight’ of his heart. He still hadn’t deleted the photos of her from his phone’s gallery, yet despite how long I had been with him, we didn’t have a single photo together.

The night before last, he had a fever of 102 degrees. I stayed by his bedside, caring for him without a wink of sleep, but the name he murmured in his delirious state was still his ex-girlfriend’s.

These things accumulated one by one until they became the volcanic eruption of my emotions today.

Finally, Song Cheng had said wearily, “Yang Jie, stop making a scene.”

Yang Jie. He called me by my full name, so formally and distantly, yet on WeChat, he called his ex-girlfriend Xiaoyun. Why didn’t he call her Qin Xingyun?

Song Cheng said I was being unreasonable.

He didn’t know that this was actually just one small thing among countless stacked emotions. I didn’t want the argument to escalate further, so I slammed the door and left.

But I never expected to be so unlucky. After the fight with Song Cheng, I had originally intended to go to the mall to clear my head with some shopping.

Instead, I ran into a psychopath.

Life is just that unpredictable; that was how I was murdered.

The police called Song Cheng to identify the body.

Song Cheng frowned, speaking into the phone with great impatience. “Yang Jie, have you had enough? Can you stop being so childish?”

After he hung up, the police called him again.

“Hello, please do not hang up. This is the Nanjing Road Branch of City A Police Department. This is not a prank. Are you Mr. Song Cheng? Do you know Yang Jie? She was murdered at the mall. Please come to the station immediately to identify the body.”

In the cramped, oppressive morgue, my body was tightly covered by a white sheet. Only one arm was exposed, covered in dried blood.

“Please identify her. Is the deceased your girlfriend, Yang Jie?” the officer said as he reached out to lift the white sheet covering my head.

But Song Cheng gripped the officer’s wrist tightly. He stared fixedly at my exposed arm, where there was an SC rose tattoo.

It remained strikingly visible on my blood-stained arm.

I remember when I first got that tattoo; I had excitedly held it up for Song Cheng to see. He was very angry at the time because he felt that tattooing his name on my body was an irresponsible thing to do to myself.

Actually, his grandmother had just passed away then. He had said despairingly that he was all alone in the world from then on, with no one left.

So I went and got that tattoo.

I just wanted him to be a little happier.

I had pointed at the tattoo and made a solemn promise to him: “The language of the Rose is that I will stay with you forever. Song Cheng, I will always be by your side.”

So you would never be alone, and you would never be without someone.

I’ve forgotten what his reaction was at the time, but I remember being moved by my own gesture for a long while. Thinking back on it now, his anger was probably because he felt it was a burden.

The person he wanted by his side forever and ever… was someone else entirely.