Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Ever since I took on the Juyuan case, my contact with Chen Ming has been even more frequent than in our previous life.

We averaged over twenty calls a day. Sometimes, I even found myself shouting his name in my dreams:

“CEO Chen…”

“Chen Ming.”

“You bastard, Chen!”

My proposal was to immediately divest Saibo, given its inherent uncertainties, to maximize profits.

But no matter how much I tried to persuade him, he remained adamant about keeping it and integrating it for the IPO.

And so, we started fighting again.

As Client and Consultant, our debates were initially confined to business matters.

But soon enough, we could no longer maintain the facade.

Over the phone, Chen Ming asked in a cold voice, “Zhang Yue, are you opposing Saibo out of a legal perspective, or is it because of Xiao Ye?”

This was the first time since our rebirth that we had mentioned our child.

I remained calmer than him. “Both. And what about you? Are you insisting on the research and development of the Lingxi System for your career, or for him?”

He gave the same answer: “Both.”

The call fell into silence.

After a long while, he suddenly spoke softly. “That day at Universal Studios, when I found him and carried him to the car, he called me ‘Daddy.'”

My heart remained undisturbed. “We were both too exhausted that day. You must have misheard. He couldn’t speak at all. I know you swerved the steering wheel at the last second because you wanted us to live. But the fact is, we all died. The child died, too. We were reborn to start over. In this timeline, that child does not exist.”

He raised his voice, interrupting me with a hint of irritation. “I know!”

I fell silent.

He continued, “Zhang Yue, in this life, have you never missed our life as a family of three?”

I let out a cold laugh. “Miss what? Missing the sight of you being able to devote yourself entirely to your work while I was stuck at home, locked in a battle of wits and endurance with an autistic child? Or perhaps, missing the sight of you achieving the very dreams that were out of my reach?”

Chen Ming said abruptly, “You said it yourself-that was your dream.”

I paused. I suddenly remembered that when he first decided to change careers, he had been so anxious he couldn’t sleep for nights. Later, I even found sedatives in his study.

It turned out we both harbored the same regrets.

After another bout of silence, Chen Ming’s tone returned to a professional, businesslike calm.

“Once Juyuan successfully goes public, you’ll make a name for yourself in the legal world. Then, you can fully realize your dream. So, I’ll say it again: don’t let me down. The Lingxi System is my trump card. Subsequent research will require a lot of capital, and I need Saibo to have a clean IPO.”

It sounded like he was granting me a charity case, an opportunity to achieve my dreams faster.

Yet, after hearing this, my heart felt strangely peaceful.

Before hanging up, I said each word with deliberate clarity: “Chen Ming, actually, after being reborn, I realized my dream was never to be a lawyer. My true dream was for Xiao Ye to never exist. So, from the moment I was reborn, my dream came true. I can finally wear three-inch heels, beautiful dresses, and exquisite makeup. I no longer have to worry about him suddenly bolting into traffic while waiting for a green light, nor do I have to worry about him hiding when I’m not looking, forcing me to run through several streets to find him. So, rest assured, all my work from here on out will be strictly professional. If you are ever dissatisfied with my performance, you can replace me at any time. I will have no objections.”

After that phone call, Chen Ming and I didn’t contact each other for several days.

To be honest, I didn’t have high hopes for Saibo’s IPO. It wasn’t that I couldn’t do it; I just didn’t believe in it.

In our previous life, because Chen Ming’s work was related to the field, we had noticed the development of AI very early on.

I followed so-called “high-tech” developments almost every day, hoping that one day my child could truly rely on the power of technology to become a normal person.

Only those who have experienced it firsthand know how intense an obsession can become when you’ve reached a dead end.

However, the greater the expectation, the deeper the disappointment.

I had seen enough of those tricks that used technology as a facade to swindle people.

Even though Chen Ming had returned through rebirth and was leading the development of the Lingxi System-making it faster and more precise than in our previous life-I still harbored a deep-seated hatred for it.

To further validate my judgment, I decided to personally delve into the core R&D team of the Lingxi System.

Xiao Zilin had joined Saibo five years ago after resigning from the hospital.

In my past life, every time I took my child for a check-up or intervention therapy, she would patiently comfort me:

“We’re both women; I know that when a child is sick, you’re the one who suffers most.

“But you have to realize that this isn’t your fault, nor is it the child’s fault.

“Since he’s sick, we’ll just treat him properly and keep living our lives as best we can.”

I would always just smile and move on, too exhausted to even bother faking a polite thank you.

Back then, I once asked her, “Dr. Xiao, what are the odds of a cure?”

She hesitated for a moment before answering, “Given Xiao Ye’s condition, as long as we intensify the interventions, he won’t have any trouble with self-care in the future.”

Self-care?

Eating, drinking, and relieving himself-like a little puppy?

Back then, my only wish was that one day I would never have to step foot in that consultation room again.

Now, living this life over again, I reflexively greeted her when I saw Dr. Xiao once more.

“Dr. Xiao, long time no see.”

She was clearly taken aback. Adjusting her glasses, she looked at me repeatedly.

“Attorney Zhang, I heard you were CEO Chen’s university classmate, but have we met before?”

I smiled and made up an excuse on the fly.

“Oh, a few years ago, a relative of mine had an autistic child who went to see you.”

Dr. Xiao’s eyes crinkled as she smiled. She gave a long, knowing “Oh,” and then asked with concern, “And how is your relative’s child recovering now?”

My breath hitched, and a bitter feeling rose in my chest.

“Um… thanks to you, he’s recovered very well. He can already take care of himself.”

Dr. Xiao quickly welcomed me into her reception room.

Though it wasn’t in a hospital, her reception room maintained the same style-warm and filled with a sense of childhood wonder. In particular, a plate of colorful lollipops sat on the table.

Actually, in this life, this wasn’t the first time I had seen her.

Twelve years ago, right after I was reborn during my junior year of college, I had secretly gone to the hospital to see her.

At that time, I had just been liberated from the pain of my previous life. I was excited, yet I didn’t know what to do with myself.

So, I often sat in the pediatric corridor for an entire day.

I watched her consultation room door open and close, over and over again.

Back then, she was just a junior doctor who had recently started, and hardly anyone booked appointments with her.

I watched parents in other consultation rooms leading their children in and out, every one of them looking haggard and bleak.

I secretly congratulated myself: I finally didn’t have to live that kind of life anymore!

But when my gaze met Dr. Xiao’s in a moment of boredom, she smiled politely, and I reflexively called out:

“Xiao Ye, let’s go. Let’s go play with Auntie Xiao.”

But when my hand habitually reached out to my side, the chair was empty.

My child was gone. I had raised him for five years; he had given me my greatest happiness and my deepest pain.

But now, he didn’t exist.

Chen Ming and I had both been reborn, but I didn’t know if our child had simply never existed this time, or if he had died in that car accident.