Chapter 364: I Am Also a Victim Also

Xia Xi glanced at the people in the room, angry at Chen Songbai's actions, and couldn't be bothered to talk more with him. She spoke frankly: "I haven't talked with him; I don't know."

Xu Yanfeng raised an eyebrow.

Xia Xi asked him: "What are you thinking?"

"You think being dead drunk could make someone do that?" Xu Yanfeng asked back.

Sexual misconduct after drinking is mostly just an excuse.

Xia Xi: "I don't believe it." Otherwise she wouldn't have said similar things to Xia Yue.

Xu Yanfeng: "Then find out clearly."

As Chen Songbai left the room, dejected, Xia Xi called him to stop. She first shut the door to keep Xia Xuan from hearing, then composed herself so she wouldn't blurt out insults the moment she spoke.

"I'm asking you, did you really sleep with Miao Yijia?" Xia Xi asked bluntly, without any adornment.

Chen Songbai hung his head, listless as a frost‑bitten eggplant; mentioning this, his expression was agonized, he rubbed his face hard, shook his head, and said truthfully: "I don't know."

Xia Xi wanted to curse again, but Xu Yanfeng pinched her fingers; she barely held back, closed her eyes, suppressed her anger, and patiently asked: "How can you not know? Did you do it or not—you yourself don't know?"

Xu Yanfeng: "……"

Chen Songbai still shook his head; he had tried more than once to recall what happened after drinking, but that stretch of memory was blank—no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't remember anything, not even a fragment.

"I drank too much and don't remember what happened." Chen Songbai covered his forehead, struggling to speak, "When I woke up, Miao Yijia was crying, and Xiao Xuan looked at me, heartbroken and angry."

Hot tears welled in his eyes, mixed with regret and self‑loathing; Chen Songbai muttered to himself: "It's all my fault—if I hadn't drunk, this wouldn't have happened." Or, if he'd drunk less, it wouldn't have come to this.

"What's the point of saying this now that it's already happened?"

Xia Xi and Xu Yanfeng exchanged a glance; she had nothing more to ask. Though she sensed something fishy, it was as if a knot had been tied tight—no matter how she tried, she couldn't untie it.

After a moment's thought, Xia Xi ultimately tried to think the best of him, and she prompted Chen Songbai: "Perhaps it's possible you did nothing at all, and Miao Yijia set you up."

Chen Songbai stared blankly, slowly lifted his head, and fixed his gaze on Xia Xi.

Xia Xi didn't want to deliberately guide anything, she said: "Of course, this is just my guess. I haven't been involved in your daily interactions with Miao Yijia, so I can't reach a definite conclusion—you have to judge for yourself." She paused, then spoke in a cool tone: "If it weren't for Xuanxuan's involvement, I wouldn't want to get involved at all—do whatever you like, it's none of my business."

It was precisely because she saw that Xia Xuan was wholeheartedly devoted and couldn't let go of Chen Songbai that she felt compelled to be extra cautious.

Chen Songbai: "But… but she's my sister—why would she set me up?"

Xia Xi curled her lips in a smile, laughing at his naivety and foolishness: "Sister? Weren't you told there's no blood relation? What kind of sister is that. Besides, you didn't even know her background before."

Chen Songbai had indeed known for a long time; he'd overheard relatives chatting about it once, but never took it to heart. For all those years he had regarded Miao Yijia as his sister. So when the incident occurred, he felt the world collapse and couldn't accept it.

On the way home, Chen Songbai's mind kept replaying Xia Xi's words.

Could Miao Yijia have set him up?

What was she after?

Chen Songbai's thoughts were a jumbled mess; when he got home, he found Miao Yijia still in his house.

Hearing the door open, Miao Yijia didn't move a muscle, like a statue curled up on the sofa, knees drawn to her chest, hair falling to veil her whole face. In the dim indoor light, that shadow looked somewhat frightening.

Only when Chen Songbai approached did she lift her head to look at him; her complexion was ashen, she still wore yesterday's spaghetti‑strap nightgown, wrapped in a blanket, as if she had been in this state of not eating, drinking, or sleeping since he left.

Chen Songbai's steps halted; seeing her made him feel prickly all over, extremely uncomfortable, and the words he had rehearsed died in his throat. He couldn't help worrying: what if his guess was wrong and he had inflicted real harm on her—what should he do?

Xia Xuan was right—he had figured nothing out, and had no right to beg her not to leave him.

Chen Songbai stood frozen, motionless for a long while; he clenched his fingers, stepped toward her, throat working, voice strained: "Tell me clearly—did we really…"

He couldn't get out the last two words.

"Don't you believe me? Do you think I'm joking about my own innocence?" Miao Yijia lay face up, tears rolling from the corners of her eyes, "If I could, I'd wish none of this had ever happened."

Miao Yijia wiped her tears, the corner of her mouth twitching into a sarcastic smile: "I'm really stupid; I was considerate of your feelings, afraid you'd blame myself, I repeatedly stressed we have no blood tie—but you, you're just scared I'll hold you responsible, eager to dump me."

"I didn't mean it that way." Chen Songbai hurried to explain, almost biting his tongue.

Miao Yijia didn't want to talk to him, slipped on her slippers and went to the kitchen.

Chen Songbai watched her retreating figure, the hope that had flared up dying again; he trudged heavily to the master bedroom. It was still as he'd left it: the bed a mess, the bloodstains on the sheets dried and turned brown.

He painfully closed his eyes, unwilling to look again; suddenly, a clear clatter of a knife falling came from outside. Thinking of something, Chen Songbai's nerves tensed and he rushed out.

Miao Yijia clutched her wrist; the blood‑stained knife lay at her feet. She groaned in pain, blood seeping from between her fingers, dropping drop by drop onto the white tile floor. The vivid red against the stark white was strikingly shocking.

"What are you doing?!" Chen Songbai shouted in shock and fear, his voice cracking.

Miao Yijia couldn't stand, staggering toward the sink, her body sliding down, forehead beaded with fine sweat, trembling as she said: "Since you don't believe me and suspect I have ulterior motives, I might as well die—end it all—so you won't have to struggle."

Chen Songbai wrapped a towel around her wrist wound, reached for his phone to call emergency services, but Miao Yijia snatched the phone from him and flung it to the ground: "I said, let me die—why bother calling 120!"

Chen Songbai: "What stupid thing are you doing?!"

After a tumultuous ordeal, they finally reached the hospital; the doctor treated Miao Yijia's wound and came out to find her family.

"Fortunately the cut was shallow, the bleeding stopped quickly." The doctor sighed, "But in such cases we still advise the family to get her a professional psychologist for timely counseling, and to keep a close watch—perhaps next time the cut will be deeper, and luck won't be on her side."

Chen Songbai's clothes were specked with blood, he felt utterly drained, leaning against the hallway wall: "I understand, thank you, doctor."

After the doctor left, Chen Songbai's back bent, his palms resting on his knees.

After a long while, he finally wearily walked into the ward.

Miao Yijia's face was pallid; against the white sheets she looked even more fragile and pitiful, like a sheet of paper that would blow away at a breath. Seeing Chen Songbai approach, she turned her face, presenting the back of her head to him.

Chen Songbai dragged a chair to the bedside and sat down, feeling ache throughout his body, even in the joints of his bones. After this day and night, he was mentally and physically exhausted, now a walking corpse.

He bowed his head, crossed his hands before his forehead, exhaled deeply, and said softly: "No matter what, you can't treat your own life lightly. If something happened to you—three longs and two shorts—how would I face your mother?"

"Do you think I want this?" Miao Yijia wept, stubbornly insisting, "I'm also forced into this with no way out. Isn't it only Xia Xuan who's innocent? Don't forget, I'm a victim too. But you only see the harm done to Xia Xuan—what am I supposed to do with myself? I'm barely twenty, my wonderful life has just begun, and now it's all ruined…" She burst into tears, her body trembling.

Chen Songbai said weakly: "Sorry."

Miao Yijia turned her head to look at him; he lowered his hands but still didn't lift his head, sweat‑soaked hair hanging from his forehead, brows and eyes hidden in shadow, his whole body shrouded in heavy grief.

Miao Yijia pressed her lips, after a moment asked him: "What do you plan to do?"

Chen Songbai remained silent; everyone asked him what to do, but he didn't know. How to win Xia Xuan's forgiveness, how to properly arrange Miao Yijia, how to restore everything to its original state… he didn't know any of it.

His phone suddenly rang, giving him a brief respite; he pulled it out—the screen smashed by Miao Yijia but still usable—and saw it was Xia Xi calling. He glanced at the person on the hospital bed, said nothing to her, gripped the phone and walked out of the ward, closing the door.

Miao Yijia felt uneasy, also thinking she was being overly sensitive; the whole affair was watertight, Chen Songbai wouldn't find a way out. She need do nothing—just wait patiently.

She touched the wound on her wrist through the gauze; if Chen Songbai hadn't suddenly suspected her and questioned her, she originally wouldn't have had to endure this stab.