Love Me Before I Die - Chapter 14

The morning sunlight filters through the gauzy curtains, becoming soft and hazy.

I lean against the pillow, my breathing fainter than usual.

On the bedside table sits a fresh bouquet of lisianthus that Xu Qing replaced this morning.

He walks in, not carrying medicine or water, but holding a slightly worn, pale blue envelope.

His gaze is unusually gentle, tinged with an indescribable solemnity.

“Baby, this is for you.”

He gently places the envelope in my open palm, his fingertips brushing my skin with a barely perceptible tremor.

I look at him, a little puzzled.

He leans down, presses a soft, lingering kiss to my forehead, and whispers, “I’ll step out for a bit, be right back.”

After he leaves, only the letter and I remain in the room.

My heart skips a beat.

With trembling fingers, I slowly open the envelope.

Inside are two sheets of letter paper.

The first, the handwriting slightly crooked, carries the innocence unique to youth, even dotted with a few ink smudges-this was the letter I spent several nights writing under the dim dormitory lamp, the very first one I ever sent as a fan.

[-To Player Xu Qing:

Hello! Sorry to write to you out of the blue, I hope I’m not bothering you.

I’m one of your fans. I watched your group match against Team ST last week. That clutch counter-kill in game three was so cool! Even though you lost in the end due to a team fight mistake, I really think you did your best-you were amazing! Please don’t feel bad about the result. In my heart, you’re the best operator. (Three simple thumbs-up doodles)

Just between us, I’m in high school now (same school you went to!), and the pressure is a bit much. Every time I watch your match videos, I feel so much better and really inspired.

Seeing you play, I even eat more at dinner that day.

The sausages at our school shop just went up by fifty cents, and everyone’s grumbling. Also, during last week’s monthly exam, the classmate behind me got caught cheating-the note landed under my chair, scared me to death, but luckily the teacher saw through it! Silly, right?

Honestly, I don’t know what else to write, I just really wanted to tell you that you bring people strength and happiness. I hope you’re a little happier every day, that your matches go well, and that you don’t get too tired.

I’ll always cheer for you, (a big ink blot) and always like you! (A doodle of a sparkling coin)

Signed, a fan who hopes you’re happy.]

Looking at these naïve yet sincere words, it’s as if I see myself, clumsily pouring out these trivial thoughts.

My eyes grow hot.

I take a deep breath and pick up the second sheet.

The handwriting on this one is completely different.

Sharp, with a stubborn edge-it’s Xu Qing’s hand.

[-To the reader of this letter:

Today, while sorting through old things, I stumbled upon this letter. The postmark is from so long ago, and back then I never really read it carefully-or perhaps, I never understood its weight.

This is a belated reply. I hope it reaches you.

Actually, after that day, I locked myself in the training room and practiced all night. I was really down, not just because of the loss, but because I’d been careless and underestimated my opponent.

The high school stories you shared reminded me of my own school days. Back then, life just felt dull, but looking back now, it was simple.

Lately, when I get hungry training late at night, my teammates and I sneak out for instant noodles, only to get caught red-handed by the coach when we come back-super awkward. And once, during a match, my equipment suddenly malfunctioned and my mouse stopped working. I had to borrow a teammate’s backup mouse on the spot-it was so light it felt like I was floating, almost made a fool of myself, but luckily we still won. Things that felt embarrassing at the time have become warm memories now.

Thank you for your support and encouragement. I’ll keep working hard! (A smiley face)

Xu Qing, today]

Staring at these two letters that have crossed such a long stretch of time, my fingertips can’t stop trembling.

Tears instantly blur my vision.

I seem to see Xu Qing now, under the lamp, writing his reply with care, exhaustion in his eyes yet so gentle.

He earnestly shares the awkward, warm memories he’s never told anyone.

He solemnly makes up for this long-overdue gratitude.

He’s so wonderful.

How could I possibly not love someone like this?

How could I ever… let go?

A tidal wave of grief and surging love swallows me whole.

Xu Qing hears me and pushes the door open, silently walks to the bedside, and pulls me tightly into his arms.

He says nothing, just gently rubs his chin against the top of my head, letting my tears soak his collar.

Those two letters are clutched tightly between our chests as we embrace, as if linking the past and the present.