Chapter 125: If There Is a Next Life, I Only Hope We Never Meet Again

The man's voice was humble and filled with pleading, yet his heart felt as if it were dripping blood.

Shall we be husband and wife again in the next life?

Hearing such words from Gu Tingyan, endless sorrow surged in Qin Shu's heart.

She did not want that.

She did not want to have a next life with Gu Tingyan, nor to be husband and wife with him again.

Being married to Gu Tingyan was too exhausting, and the price paid was too agonizing; Qin Shu could not bear it.

If there is a next life, I only hope we never meet again.

He shall walk his own single-plank bridge, and she shall walk her own path to the Yellow Springs.

With no ties left between us.

Qin Shu only glanced at Gu Tingyan once; the man's handsome face was haggard, yet it did not diminish his beauty by even half, and those long, narrow phoenix eyes were filled with bloodshot veins.

He remained noble and refined, his entire being radiating a faint melancholy and an inescapable sense of dejection.

Qin Shu dared not look at him again; she picked up a pen and signed the divorce agreement, her small face pale, her voice weak and hoarse: "I will not take your assets."

Qin Shu did not want Gu Tingyan's money, but that did not mean Qin Shu wanted to let an outsider benefit.

After they divorced, Gu Tingyan would certainly remarry in the future.

If nothing went wrong, the person Gu Tingyan would marry was Chu Sheng.

Gu Yichen was Gu Tingyan's biological son; no matter what, this money had to be left to Chenchen in the future, not to the child of a mistress.

Qin Shu: "I will leave it all to Chenchen, placed in a trust company."

"When he turns eighteen and comes of age, he can inherit these assets."

Gu Tingyan's face turned deathly pale; he stared at Qin Shu with his pitch-black pupils, his voice hoarse: "Fine."

After Qin Shu finished signing, she watched the man's tall, upright figure turn and leave, feeling a sense of disbelief and trance.

Her heart was filled with trepidation and unease; as she grew nervous, her fingers couldn't help but curl up.

Would Gu Tingyan really divorce her?

Would it be like before, where on the day they were to collect the divorce certificate, he would suddenly play at disappearing for no reason?

Tricking her into signing the divorce agreement was actually just an expedient measure to keep her.

Qin Shu knew Gu Tingyan's paranoid and crazy personality; he did not want to let go, and even if Qin Shu fled to the ends of the earth, he would pursue her.

That night, Qin Shu still slept very restlessly; her dreams were bizarre and grotesque, always leaving her in a daze, unable to catch her breath.

Fortunately, Gu Tingyan did not return to the bedroom that night.

Qin Shu did not know where he had gone, nor did she care where he had gone.

Qin Shu had a dream; she dreamed of the child she lost at birth, with her grandmother holding the child, the two of them smiling and waving at her in the dream, the child calling her "Mommy."

Qin Shu eagerly wanted to chase after them, but the more she chased, the further those two figures moved away from her, suddenly turning into a cloud of mist and vanishing before her eyes.

Qin Shu woke up with a start; she opened her eyes, her whole body covered in a layer of damp, cold sweat.

After waking up, she lay in bed for two hours and could no longer fall asleep.

She was very exhausted, yet her brain drove her to be very excited; her head felt like it was about to explode, and many unpleasant memories were ringing out in a chaotic, disorganized mess inside.

Every frame was stained with blood and carried the mark of pain.

Qin Shu got up, rummaged through the cabinet for Gu Tingyan's cigarettes, pushed open the balcony door, and saw a pile of cigarette butts on the ground that hadn't been cleaned up yet.

Clearly, Gu Tingyan hadn't slept all night, smoking for the entire night.

Qin Shu's mood grew increasingly gloomy; she took out a lighter and lit a cigarette, her movements having gone from clumsy to practiced—in less than half a year, Qin Shu had learned to smoke.

She used to hate the smell of smoke, always feeling that men who smoked smelled foul; Qin Shu could not stand secondhand smoke.

Gu Tingyan never smoked in front of her, and he rarely smoked at all; he basically had no addiction, and when he did smoke, he would go outside to do it, then come upstairs, shower clean, and then get into bed to hold Qin Shu.

If Gu Tingyan had the smell of smoke on him, he would be kicked out of bed by Qin Shu and not allowed to sleep there.

Qin Shu lowered her head and leaned against the balcony, smoking for a long, long time, wrapped in a shawl; her stimulated, frantic, and excited brain gradually became clear in the cold wind.

The effect of the nicotine temporarily numbed her body and mind.

She was like a desperate addict, her self-control so low that she could only beg for the aid of external objects; the cigarette butt at her fingertips burned out, scalding her finger and making her flinch.

Qin Shu lowered her head and flicked off the ash, her movements suddenly freezing.

The second-floor balcony of the manor was about as high as a third floor in a normal building.

As Qin Shu stood by the railing and looked down, a sudden impulse inexplicably arose; it was as if a devil in the depths of her heart was constantly tempting her, urging her to jump down.

As long as she jumped down, everything would be resolved.

Jump down, go on, jump.

Jump down, and you will be free.

That voice in her mind kept ringing in her ears; Qin Shu's feet moved forward unconsciously, and as she looked down at the ground, she knew she likely wouldn't survive a fall from here.

Qin Shu's mother had suffered from severe depression and had jumped from a building back then; her head had hit the hard stone slab like a watermelon smashing onto the ground, and blood splattered all over Qin Shu's face.

She had originally bought a cake, happy and excited, wanting to go home to celebrate her mother's birthday.

Then, with a loud "Bang," it felt as if something had exploded in Qin Shu's ears.

Qin Zhiyun had died right in front of her just like that.

The beautiful cake in Qin Shu's hands was covered in fresh blood, and her own clean, small face was also covered in warm blood; she stood frozen in place, unmoving, with only the heart-wrenching cries of her grandparents reaching her ears.

Her mother, too, had died of depression.

Qin Shu looked down; standing on the high floor, she suddenly understood just how much pain and despair her mother had felt back then.

This terrible world—if there is a next life, I never want to come back.

Qin Shu's face turned white in an instant; she recoiled sharply, dropped the cigarette in her hand, and curled up in the corner, her body trembling uncontrollably.

What was she doing just now?

She even found herself thinking in self-deprecating resignation, die, it would be better to die, death would be a release, no need to live in such pain anymore.

No...

Qin Shu's fingertips trembled violently, her eyes filled with terror for the first time, followed immediately by an intense desire to survive.

She would not follow the same path as her mother.

Death might end everything, but she still had many things left undone; the Qin Family's great vengeance had not been avenged, and Chenchen was still at the Gu Family Old Residence.

If she died, what would she gain?

She would gain the laughter of her enemies.

Mockery, contempt, coldness, and disdain.

The only one who would pay the price for her death would be Chenchen.

If she died, would Chenchen become a second version of her, living forever in the nightmare of losing her mother?

Qin Shu's brain fought intensely for control; she trembled as she steadied herself against the wall to stand, walked back to the balcony railing, and looked down: "What does not kill me makes me stronger."

Qin Shu gripped the lighter in her hand and smashed it fiercely against the ground, her chest heaving violently: "Screw your depression."

She knew she was ill, and the cause of her illness was like a devil, luring her toward despair and the abyss of death.

Since she had the courage to die, since she was not even afraid of death, was she still afraid of living?