Rebirth in a Shura Field, but in an Abstract Version

001 From the time of divorce to the time of confession

Looking at the woman in front of him, Wang Zhe felt that life was absurd.

This is the Civil Affairs Bureau of Shanghai and Hong Kong, and he is here to get a divorce certificate.

Song Zhiyi, this beautiful and sophisticated woman in a light-colored trench coat, is his childhood sweetheart; they've known each other since elementary school in Chengdu. Back then, their love story, from school uniforms to wedding dresses, had countless people on his social media posting "Believe in love," while many others angrily accused him of flaunting his relationship.

But now?

After a 30-day cooling-off period, Wang Zhe appeared at the Civil Affairs Bureau as promised, and then saw Song Zhiyi... and another young woman next to her.

Song Zhiyi introduced, "This is my best friend, Jiang Di. You should have met her before."

This young woman named Jiang Di had beautifully dyed long blonde hair and was very pretty, especially her bright red lips, which were particularly eye-catching.

Wang Zhe said expressionlessly, "I haven't seen it."

Jiang Di retorted, "We went to the same high school and lived in the same neighborhood. I've seen you so many times, how could you not have seen me before?"

Wang Zhe stared at that slightly familiar, beautiful face and suddenly remembered.

This girl goes to the same school as me, but is a year below me. She should be finishing her second year of high school and about to enter her third. Although we live in the same neighborhood, we've never spoken to each other, only occasionally exchanging glances when we bump into each other on our way to and from school.

Moreover, at that time, Jiang Di didn't seem to be a well-behaved girl; instead, she had a bit of a delinquent vibe, which didn't fit Wang Zhe's aesthetic standards back then.

However, Wang Zhe didn't greet Jiang Di, but instead said to his ex-wife, "Interesting. You actually brought a woman. I thought you'd bring a man. So it wasn't just cheating, it was coming out as gay?"

Song Zhiyi lifted her long hair behind her ear and said, "I didn't cheat on you and I won't come out of the closet. I didn't do anything to wrong you. The reason for the divorce is simply because our feelings for each other faded."

Wang Zhe waved his hand: "You don't need to explain to me, I don't care."

At this moment, Jiang Di stepped in to explain, "Zhiyi really didn't do anything wrong to you. She was just too busy with work and couldn't take care of her marriage..."

Wang Zhe interrupted, "I already said, it doesn't matter. I'm here today to get my divorce certificate."

Song Zhiyi seemed to have something else to say, but seeing his resolute expression, she silently swallowed her words.

After completing the final formalities, Wang Zhe and Song Zhiyi received their respective divorce certificates.

Then Wang Zhe, too lazy to say anything more, walked straight out of the Civil Affairs Bureau.

However, at the crossroads outside the Civil Affairs Bureau, his ex-wife and best friend caught up with him again.

Jiang Di quickly stepped forward, blocking his way, and took out her phone, saying, "Brother Zhe, can we add each other on WeChat?"

Wang Zhe was stunned: "Why do you call me 'brother'? And what's the meaning of adding me on WeChat?"

Jiang Di: "I'd like to help explain. It seems you still have some misunderstanding about Sister Zhiyi; she does have feelings for you..."

Wang Zhe scoffed, "She's the one who brought up divorce, what's the point of bringing this up now? Let her do whatever she wants, it's none of my business anymore, understand?"

Just then, Song Zhiyi walked over and said, "Actually, Jiang Di wants to be friends with you. Don't use me as an excuse."

Wang Zhe: "..."

What's going on?

He originally thought that Song Zhiyi had invited her best friend to accompany her through the divorce process to make a good impression, but it turned out that he was the target of this best friend.

Wang Zhe's gaze swept back and forth across the two faces several times.

They were both beautiful, but their temperaments were different. Song Zhiyi was more quiet and reserved, while Jiang Di seemed more flamboyant, yet she was slightly lowering her head, appearing somewhat shy.

Wang Zhe scoffed, "Is this the Civil Affairs Bureau, or a secondhand trading platform?"

Jiang Di looked up and said, "Brother Zhe, I'm serious. You probably don't know, but Sister Zhiyi often talks about you, saying you're smart, humorous, and very charming. Can we add each other on WeChat first?"

"Okay, add me. Song Zhiyi has my WeChat, I'll have her send it to you."

After saying that, Wang Zhe turned and left.

The pedestrian traffic light across the intersection had just turned from red to green, and he strode across, but suddenly, a screeching sound of brakes rang out.

Before Wang Zhe could react, he felt himself being lifted into the air. After spinning several times in the air, he landed and felt a sharp pain all over his body.

Were you hit by a car?

No, his carefree single life hasn't even begun, and he's already failing before he even got started?

Wang Zhe lay on the road, feeling colder and colder...

He closed his eyes.

"Call an ambulance right away!"

"I'm calling 120!"

"Why did this person suddenly appear?"

It's a bit noisy around here, it seems to be passersby and drivers...

But then, a heart-wrenching female voice suddenly rang out: "Get out! I saw it all! You're the one who ran the red light! You hit my husband, you're going to jail!"

What? Husband? Aren't I already single?

Wang Zhe recognized the voice; it sounded like Song Zhiyi. Unsure, he tried to open his eyes, but his eyelids felt too weak to open.

Never mind, let's leave it at that...

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

"Hey, how come you can fall asleep here?!"

Hearing that clear and melodious voice, Wang Zhe suddenly jolted awake, opened his eyes, and looked up.

I was sitting on an outdoor bench, surrounded by... wait, isn't this the small square in front of my high school?

Moreover, who is this person in front of you?

A long ponytail, smooth black hair, a delicate little face, and those affectionate peach blossom eyes.

Song Zhiyi, and Song Zhiyi who is eighteen years old!

I was reborn back to my original state!

The reborn person, who had just woken up, was still in a daze when the girl with a slightly flushed face took out an envelope.

The pristine white envelope, sealed with red wax and carrying a faint fragrance, was handed to her by both hands.

Wang Zhe suddenly slapped his head.

He remembered that this was when Song Zhiyi confessed her feelings, in June 2012, in Chengdu, Sichuan Province.

It was afternoon, the sky was bright, and the small square was quiet. Only Wang Zhe and Song Zhiyi were around.

The girl suddenly tilted her head, looking quite adorable but also a little confused, and asked, "Are you still daydreaming?"

Wang Zhe took a deep breath.

In his previous life, starting from this day, he and Song Zhiyi became completely inseparable, and they couldn't be separated for the next ten years or so. If things could have continued like this, that would have been fine, but later, for no apparent reason, things turned into a mess.

If that's the case, then we shouldn't have started.

Wang Zhe said expressionlessly, "Sorry, I have no plans to be in a relationship right now."

Before she could finish speaking, Song Zhiyi's face froze.

After a few seconds of silence, the girl whispered, "Why don't you open it and take a look first..."

Wang Zhe shook his head: "No, I can guess what's written inside, so there's no need to read it. I really don't have the inclination."

He not only could guess, he remembered it perfectly. The confession written in delicate handwriting inside the envelope would move any normal boy. That was exactly what Wang Zhe felt back then; he was not only moved, but also hugged Song Zhiyi on the spot.

But that was him back then, not the man who has just gone through a thirty-day cooling-off period.

Although he thought he heard Song Zhiyi scolding the driver during the car accident, he couldn't be sure if it was just his imagination. Even if it was real, it probably only meant that Song Zhiyi couldn't bear to see him suffer such a tragedy. In the end, it was she who confessed her feelings first and filed for divorce.

However, at this moment, the helplessness on the girl's face was also incredibly real.

Eighteen-year-old Song Zhiyi murmured, "I thought you liked me too..."

Wang Zhe laughed: "I do have some feelings for you, but I'm really sorry, I might have made you misunderstand. It's just a friendly feeling. I've always considered you a good friend."

Song Zhiyi unconsciously took a step back, her eyes filled with shock, as if everything she had just heard was a nightmare.

Wang Zhe figured that if he stayed any longer, he would see his ex-wife cry, so he said "bye-bye" and turned to leave.

Just then, he heard a sobbing voice behind him:

"Wait a minute! Even if you don't agree, we can still be friends, right?"

Wang Zhe turned around and asked in return, "What do you think?"

Song Zhiyi bit her lower lip, staring at him, her hands wrapped around her own arms. Her trembling, frail figure looked utterly helpless.

Despite looking like she might burst into tears at any moment, she still nodded with effort: "I think, at least we're still friends."

Wang Zhe sighed: "Then let's say that."

Then he walked away.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.