Chapter 6

A “clink” brought my wandering thoughts back.

Dorian seemed to be lost in thought too, not even noticing the spoon that had fallen to the floor.

I instinctively leaned down to pick it up, but my non-corporeal hand passed right through the spoon. I froze for a moment.

Then the spoon was picked up by another hand.

“What are you eating?” Celeste’s soft voice filled the room.

I spread my palms, looking at these hands that were growing fainter, almost unable to solidify, then looked at Celeste’s long, fair hands.

Suddenly, I felt a pang of insecurity.

My hands used to be beautiful before I died.

Now I could cook a full meal, effortlessly complete games, but now I couldn’t even touch anything.

“What flavor are these dumplings? They smell so strange.” Celeste picked up another spoon and slowly stirred the dumplings in Dorian’s bowl.

Dorian’s brow furrowed slightly, but he still replied, “Vegetable.”

Celeste nodded indifferently, then looked up at Dorian, “Why did Anya say today was your birthday?”

Dorian flinched.

Celeste smiled candidly, “Your phone was on the sofa just now, I glanced at your chat history.”

Then she added, “I can’t believe your lock screen password hasn’t changed, 0802, the day we first met.”

Dorian looked down, and I couldn’t see the expression in his eyes.

My heart still twisted slightly.

I used to playfully ask Dorian to change his lock screen password to the day we got together, but he always refused.

It was because of her, after all.

“Hurry, answer my question. Why did Anya say today was your birthday?”

I stared coldly at Celeste.

Dorian had promised me that this was a secret between just me and him, that he wouldn’t tell anyone—

“A lot of bad things happened on that day five years ago, so she suggested postponing my birthday by a week, finding ways to celebrate it for me.”

His familiar voice was as low and calm as ever.

I bit down hard on my tongue, a bitter, metallic taste welling up and spreading through my mouth.

Suddenly, I wanted to laugh, at myself.

Celeste was silent for a moment. “She really was good to you.”

“These dumplings are hers too? Made specifically for your birthday?”

“Yes.”

“You rushed me to sleep just to eat these? To keep a promise with her?”

Dorian didn’t answer.

Silence settled.

Celeste quickly scooped up a dumpling, then suddenly said, “I want to eat it.”

“No!” I screamed, a desperate, raw sound.

No one heard me.

I reached out to grab her spoon.

I couldn’t touch it.

Dorian’s gaze darkened. He grabbed her wrist, warning softly, “Celeste.”

Celeste stared into his eyes, repeating each word, “I want to eat it.”

“Dorian, from now on, I’ll be with you for every one of your birthdays.”

She was forcing him to choose.

Dorian’s jawline tightened, a flicker of struggle in his dark eyes. After what felt like an eternity, he slowly released Celeste’s hand.

Celeste ate the dumpling, as she wished.

I watched, numb, tears endlessly spilling from my eyes.

It felt like knives carving into my heart, tearing flesh, bleeding profusely.

This wasn’t just about dumplings.

These past few days, I’d hovered in the corner, watching them indifferently, feeling as though all emotion had left me.

But I wasn’t sure if it was my imagination, after that incident, Dorian’s attitude towards Celeste seemed much colder.

Aside from playing games together, he had no other intimate gestures with Celeste, even deliberately avoiding her touch.

One day, Celeste suddenly asked, “I always forgot to ask, where’s Anya?”

Dorian paused, his voice calm, “She got into an argument with me a few days ago, then applied for a business trip.”

Celeste laughed, “So many days without contact, maybe she already wanted to break up with you.”

Dorian’s eyes darkened, utterly certain: “Impossible.”

As he spoke, he instinctively pulled out his phone, looking at his chat with me. A rare hint of unease and anxiety appeared between his brows.

Oh, he still didn’t know I was dead.

I suddenly became curious about his reaction when he did find out.

The next day, Dorian received a package from me.

—It was the engagement ring he’d given me.

A month ago, Dorian and I were at a restaurant.

Halfway through the meal, the man sitting opposite me suddenly stood up, pulled out a ring without warning, and knelt on one knee.