Chapter 42. Behind the curtain, the truth about the fainting incident was finally revealed...

For a moment, Xu Aida thought, "It's over. Maybe I'll have to pay the price for being reborn."

Seeing her swaying, Liang Siyu quickly supported her: "Still not feeling well? Lie down quickly."

She lay down along his arm and nervously grabbed his hand.

He touched her face, his eyes filled with tenderness and heartache: "Go to sleep for a while, you need to rest more."

She met his gaze, slowed her breathing, and tried to reassure herself: Don't panic, don't panic, think about Ned's behavior, don't scare yourself.

It should be a more serious condition than vasovagal syncope, but it shouldn't be an acute or severe illness either; otherwise, he would definitely have taken her to the hospital instead of letting her rest at home.

Even today's situation might have surprised him. Otherwise, he wouldn't have...

She didn't feel anything unusual at the time, but afterwards she felt extremely empty inside, as if her soul had drifted away, and she quickly fell asleep...

Given her condition today, perhaps he wasn't sure what was wrong. He had only consulted a doctor and was told to wait until she felt better before getting her checked out.

Her head hit the pillow, and she started to feel sleepy again. Losing her patience, she decided to make her move directly.

She hooked his finger, and seeing him lower his head, she smiled slightly: "Silly boy, stop making up stories. Let's get me better and arrange a medical check-up soon."

He froze, as if petrified. His Adam's apple bobbed, and it took him several seconds to speak: "Ada, I, I just wanted to..."

She interrupted him: "Wait until I feel better, or until the medical results come out?"

He nodded, like a primary school student caught by the teacher for not doing his homework.

"I guessed it. One last question, then I'll go to sleep." She blinked. "You've consulted a doctor about today's situation, right? I shouldn't be in any life-threatening danger, right? It's not some incurable disease, is it?"

"Of course not, what are you thinking?" He raised his voice in a hurry, but when he saw her cover her ears, he quickly apologized in a low voice, "Did I scare you? I'm sorry."

"Okay. It's really scary when you have a long face." She yawned, her voice becoming muffled. "I'm going to sleep. Goodnight."

She fell asleep quickly, and he stupidly uttered two words: "Goodnight."

Two days later, in the evening, he accompanied her for a snack. Today's snack was soft, low-sugar muffins spread with fresh blueberry jam, paired with decaffeinated rooibos tea.

He pushed the small dining table out, came back and sat on the edge of the bed, patted her shoulder, and then patted his own thigh, indicating that she should lie on his lap.

She leaned against the cushion and tidied her hair: "Is this how it should be? I'll listen."

He insisted, "Come on, I want to get a little closer to you."

She muttered, "You're clearly afraid I'll faint."

However, she still lay down, and he naturally put his hand on her shoulder and looked down into her eyes.

She nudged his side: "Hurry up and tell me, I don't want to read this super long introduction."

He took a deep breath. "Okay, no introduction." He paused. "Remember Sunday morning? You collapsed in the parking lot of that country club."

Country club?

Her face turned pale instantly. In the past few days, after hearing the term "vasovagal syncope," she had almost forgotten about that place.

He gently patted her shoulder: "Babe, I'm not sure you remember anything. Fainting must have felt awful. But I have to tell you what exactly happened."

“When I told you to get off the bus, you looked terrible. I thought you had low blood sugar, so I gave you some chocolate candies. But you didn’t seem to hear me at all and didn’t react.”

She looked back at him. Was that true? She had no recollection of it.

"Of course, I was in a hurry at the time, so I gripped your arm tightly. I gripped it too tightly, and you cried out in pain. Then, you suddenly cried, your breathing became rapid, and you quickly fainted."

She turned her head slightly, avoiding his gaze. So, it wasn't a memory lapse; she really broke down and cried? Her heart started racing. Was that why he'd been so cautious these past few days?

She forced herself to look him in the eye: "Ned, stop beating around the bush and tell me, what do you think is wrong with me? Am I mentally unstable?"

Her gaze was sharp, like a silver scalpel, leaving no room for error.

In the past two days, Liang Siyu had simulated her reaction countless times. When this moment actually happened, all he could feel was a sigh. This was Xu Aida, the Xu Aida he both loved and hated.

His eyes welled up slightly: "Ada, I'm not a doctor, I don't answer these kinds of questions."

He saw the corners of her mouth turn down slightly, a clear expression of displeasure. Yes, he knew she didn't like any word games.

But he continued, "All I know is that at that moment, I was terrified of losing you, and I am still terrified now."

Her expression changed immediately; she raised her arm to cover her eyes, but a small sob from her nose betrayed her.

He hesitated for a moment, then gently patted her shoulder again: "Ada, don't be afraid, don't be afraid. No matter what, we'll be together, okay?"

Her chest heaved with heavy breathing, then slowly calmed down. She wiped her face: "It was a coincidence, I just... didn't expect I'd be afraid of that place."

"I don't know how to explain it. Believe it or not, I can only say that I'm perfectly clear-headed, and nothing strange has happened to me, okay?"

The more she spoke, the harder her tone became, like a stream suddenly freezing over.

She was simply reborn. She had no hallucinations or delusions, and she didn't have a mental illness. However, if he didn't believe her, she couldn't explain it clearly at all.

Forget it, believe it or not. At worst, let it be. Anyway, she's tired. Maybe, they'll just end things like this without even needing to wait until next year.

That's fine, since we're going to separate anyway, what difference does it make if we do it sooner or later? And what difference does it make what the reason is?

She's already been divorced once, what is there left for her to hold onto? She shouldn't have started over so carelessly.

Liang Siyu shook his head. He knew her too well. Her unspoken message was: either accept it or get lost.

He could only console himself that she was such a straightforward person, and the fact that she didn't say it meant she couldn't bear to part with him.

He patted her on the shoulder: "Okay, I just wanted to tell you this so I wouldn't wake up from my dreams of Hippocrates every day."

Her eyes widened. That's it? Wasn't he going to suggest she see a psychiatrist? She'd even thought he'd already prepared a full-page list of candidates.

He patted her shoulder: "Want a hot towel? Want to add a drop of lavender essential oil? Wipe your face and take a nap."

She hesitated, not answering. He had already stood up: "Or geranium? That smells fresher."

Was it the lavender or geranium that was the problem? She was still a little dazed when the hot towel was placed on her face.

She should be happy; he didn't press her for an answer, and she didn't need to rack her brains to explain anymore.

But for some reason, she got a little angry, feeling stuck in the middle and not winning the conversation at all.

She even suspected that her behavior led him to collect a new piece of data: irrational, uncommunicative, and in need of a change in therapy.

She tossed and turned in bed, then kicked off the covers and suddenly sat up: "Edmund Leung, come here, what did you mean just now?"

He gently put his arm around her waist: "Ada, you keep asking me what I think, but I think what's more important is what you want me to do?"

She was speechless again. She hoped he wouldn't ask questions, doubt, scrutinize, or rush her. Wasn't that what he was doing? Why was she still dissatisfied?

She lay down again in anger, turning her back to him: "You win, fine, I'm the only one going crazy, I just don't believe you can be this good, okay?"

He hugged her from behind, pressing his face against her skin: "Babe, I'm not that good. Actually, I have a lot of questions I want to ask."

"You know what? I've even imagined a lot of terrible scenarios, like you being alone on the street and suddenly fainting. Thinking about these things, I wish I could drag you to the doctor right today..."

His voice choked up, then he cleared his throat and continued, "But I already made a mistake that day. I thought I was waking you up, but I hurt you and scared you to tears."

"You may not remember, but I will never forget the feeling of that moment in my life."

“Ada, I can wait, really. I don’t want to scare you anymore, believe me.”

“Ned!” Tears welled up in her eyes. She tried to turn around and talk to him, but her heart skipped a beat and she was too upset to speak.

"Ada, don't cry, don't cry." He gently rubbed her chest, held her, his face almost as pale as hers. "Are you feeling better?"

She slowly calmed down, her voice hoarse: "Ned, it's not your fault, don't think like that, it's me, it's me..." She just couldn't tell him the truth.

He suddenly lowered his head and kissed her: "I don't want you to think like this either. Let's both stop this self-attack, okay?"

She nodded, tears streaming down her face, her voice barely audible: "Ned, I really haven't gone crazy, I..."

He interrupted her: "Of course you don't. It's a state similar to PTSD. You've just had some terrifying memories triggered. It's not a hallucination."

He then realized why her tone had been so cold and her demeanor so resolute.

“Ada, look at me, believe me, it’s not an illusion.” He tightened his grip slightly.

A huge weight was lifted off her shoulders. The confirmation came so quickly and easily that she was almost caught off guard and unconsciously held her breath.

Only when her lungs were parched and she coughed twice did she manage to find her voice: "Not a hallucination? Do you believe I'm not hallucinating?"

“I know you’re not,” he said, stroking her cheek. “You’re just scared, and then you’re haunted by those terrifying memories. Of course you’re not crazy, you’re fine.”

Her chest tightened from the intense emotions, and she pressed herself closer to him: "I thought... I thought you thought I was crazy, and I couldn't explain it."

He regretted not explaining things more clearly at the beginning. Dr. Finch suggested that he only describe the situation and not add any "diagnostic language," which caused her some misunderstanding.

He held the trembling little snowman tightly in his arms; her limbs were ice-cold. He patted her back to calm her down a little.

“Ada, it’s okay, we’ll take it slow. If you feel scared again, just tell me right away, okay? I just want to make sure you’re safe.”

“Ned, I don’t know how to explain it, I just… uh, that building makes me… feel a little uncomfortable.”

That was just an accident; she wasn't mentally prepared. It definitely won't happen again.

She thought for a moment, then reluctantly added, "I'll talk to my therapist. You don't need to worry about it, okay?"

This was an isolated incident, and it involved the secret of rebirth. She didn't intend to consult anyone about it, but saying it this way would put his mind at ease.

He wanted to say that her therapist was in California, and online counseling for such a serious problem might not be effective enough. But he held back, deciding not to contradict her right away and to wait and see.

He lowered his voice: "Of course, however you need to."