After Marrying the Cold Omega in Secret - Chapter 69

Chu Jin had considered the possibility that Jiang Xu might confess her feelings today, but she was still taken aback by the meticulous arrangements when she arrived at the designated restaurant.

Jiang Xu had reserved a private dining room in an upscale establishment.

The moment the door opened, an undercurrent of romance swept over her.

The spacious room was decorated in French style, with a dazzling crystal chandelier casting warm golden light over the round table below, draped in white satin.

A bouquet of red roses sat on the table, accompanied by candleholders whose flickering flames reflected off the delicate silverware, lending a subtle metallic sheen.

The rest of the space was adorned with blush-pink roses and balloons, elegant yet tasteful.

Staring at the scene before her, Chu Jin felt as though her feet were weighed down with lead until Jiang Xu’s gentle voice pulled her back.

“Sister, come in.”

Only then did Chu Jin snap out of her daze and step inside.

The waiter discreetly closed the door behind her, leaving just the two of them.

They sat facing each other in silence.

The candlelight wavered, the wicks crackling softly, the sound stark in the quiet room.

The faint noise only amplified the unease coiling in Chu Jin’s chest. Her gaze fixed on the amber flames, her mind wandered elsewhere.

I wonder what Chi Ye is doing right now.

He must have reached the hotel by now.

Maybe he’s drinking and flirting with someone?

She didn’t dare dwell on it. Just the fleeting thought sent a sharp pang through her heart.

Then Jiang Xu spoke again.

After a long pause, her expression turned solemn, her eyes fixed on Chu Jin as if beholding a treasure. Even her tone carried a cautious humility:

“Sister, you must have guessed why I asked you here today.”

Chu Jin tore her gaze from the flickering candles.

Meeting Jiang Xu’s almond-shaped eyes, she finally focused on the matter at hand.

“To be honest, I never imagined you felt this way about me,” Chu Jin admitted.

“That’s only because I hid it well,” Jiang Xu replied immediately.

A faint, almost bitter smile touched her lips like the first sip of an iced Americano in the morning.

She then poured red wine into Chu Jin’s glass.

“When I was little, I used to resent how unfair life was to me. But after meeting you, I realized how lucky I was.” Jiang Xu spoke slowly, a faint light glimmering in her eyes. “It was like a beam of light piercing endless darkness.”

“Without that light, I might have died that snowy night long ago.”

Chu Jin’s heart clenched painfully.

“Sister, I don’t even remember when I started falling for you.”

“Maybe it was the first night we met, when you sat with me on the flowerbed for so long. Or later, when you helped me hunt for fabrics, carrying bolts of cloth after I cut my fingers. Or after I won that award, when we tried every café in Linhe together. It’s been so long, the memories are fading.” She paused, exhaling softly.

“But what I’ve never forgotten is how I’ve kept this love hidden all these years.”

Chu Jin’s thoughts followed Jiang Xu’s words back to those years, the shared memories flitting through her mind like fleeting images.

She never imagined that what she considered insignificant companionship had left such vivid and profound marks in Jiang Xu’s heart enough to be cherished for so many years.

Jiang Xu continued, “I still remember the time you suddenly asked me what kind of girl I liked. Afraid you’d find out, I lied back then. You were so easy to fool, believing it for years.”

Chu Jin vaguely recalled that moment. It was during a celebration for Jiang Xu winning a competition. Over dinner, she had asked Jiang Xu about her preferences, thinking she could help keep an eye out for potential matches.

But the type Jiang Xu described was completely different from Chu Jin herself.

Because of this, Chu Jin became even more convinced that their bond was nothing more than simple sisterly affection, just like her relationship with Song Xunyu.

“Why?” Chu Jin couldn’t understand.

Why keep it hidden all this time?

The calmness in Jiang Xu’s eyes wavered at the question, sorrow welling up once more.

“Jiejie, do you know? In my heart, you were always like the moon hanging high in the sky untouchable. And I was someone stuck in the mud. The reason I never said anything was because I felt  unworthy of you.”

“So I pushed myself relentlessly. Only now, after all these years, do I finally feel like I’ve earned the right to stand beside you.” Hesitating for a moment, Jiang Xu leaned slightly forward and took Chu Jin’s hand from the table.

Her eyes shimmered, pleading like a puppy’s. “Jiejie, I don’t want to let you go to anyone else ever again.”

Chu Jin’s brows remained slightly furrowed. She held Jiang Xu’s gaze for a long time before finally sighing softly.

“Jiang Xu—”

Jiang Xu quickly interrupted, tightening her grip on Chu Jin’s hand. “Wait, jiejie. Don’t rush. Take your time to think it over. Don’t give me an answer yet.”

Her voice was urgent, tears already gathering at the corners of her eyes.

Chu Jin knew how much Jiang Xu had struggled over the years. But her own stance couldn’t remain ambiguous any longer. Some things had to be made clear delaying would only become a burden holding Jiang Xu back.

“I can give you my answer right now,” Chu Jin said firmly.

Jiang Xu shut her eyes in pain, reopening them after a moment.

Bloodshot veins now streaked across them.

“Xiao Xu, I’ve watched you grow step by step. I know how hard it’s been for you. All this time, I’ve only ever seen you as a younger sister. That’s why I stayed by your side through everything.”

“You’re an incredible girl. You shouldn’t be buried, shouldn’t be dragged into turmoil, and most of all, you shouldn’t have died that snowy night.”

Chu Jin’s voice softened as she gently squeezed Jiang Xu’s hand in return.

“It hurts me that you kept these feelings hidden for so long. I just want you to know no matter when, you are worthy of anyone you love.”

“And I’m happy that today, you finally found the courage to speak your heart. From now on, you can start a new life.”

“A life that’s completely, entirely your own.”

Jiang Xu’s composure shattered. Moving hastily, she stood and stepped to Chu Jin’s side before dropping to her knees beside her.

Gazing up, she still silently begged for another possibility.

She pressed Chu Jin’s hand against her cheek, leaning into the touch with a choked whisper.

“Sister, are you upset that I told you too late? Are you saying these things because you’re angry with me?”

Tears had already fallen, dripping onto Chu Jin’s fingers.

Seeing her like this, Chu Jin felt equally distressed, her voice no longer calm. “Jiang Xu, even if you had told me long ago, I still—”

“Please don’t say anymore.” Jiang Xu interrupted her, then slowly released Chu Jin’s hand, pleading in a hoarse voice, “Can we just pretend that I told you too late?”

That way, it wouldn’t hurt so much.

At least she could console herself with the thought that had she confessed her feelings earlier, the outcome might have been different.

Chu Jin understood what she meant.

In the end, she nodded.

–

Eventually, Chu Jin agreed to Jiang Xu’s request to finish their meal before leaving. By the time she returned to her residence after dinner, it was already 10:30 PM.

Chu Jin had tried to force herself not to think about Chi Ye.

But images of her kept surfacing in her mind unbidden.

At this hour, whatever was meant to happen or not meant to happen had probably already happened.

Yet despite this, when passing by Chi Ye’s room, Chu Jin still paused.

She stood there for a long while before finally raising her hand to ring the doorbell.

Perhaps she was still hoping for another possibility.

Maybe Chi Ye hadn’t gone at all. Maybe she was waiting inside for Chu Jin to come find her.

And the next moment, she would open the door. They would lock eyes, then fall into a deep, passionate kiss.

But reality poured cold water over Chu Jin’s hopes.

She held her breath and waited, but no one came to open the door.

Because the room was empty.

Chu Jin clenched her fingers, nails digging into her palms. The physical pain barely dulled the ache in her heart.

She struggled to keep her emotions in check and walked to Feng Yuwei’s door.

Pressing the doorbell again.

This time, the door opened after just a few seconds.

Chu Jin’s eyes lit up, a flicker of hope reigniting in her chest.

But it was Feng Yuwei’s assistant who greeted her.

The assistant looked surprised. “Teacher Chu, is something wrong?”

Flustered, Chu Jin fabricated an excuse. “I need to go over some scenes with Feng Yuwei. Is she here?”

The assistant replied instantly, giving Chu Jin no time to recover. “She’s out tonight, had some business to attend to.”

That fragile hope shattered completely then.

Like a dying person struggling in vain before being mercilessly dragged into the abyss by death.

As the door closed, Chu Jin felt her heart take a brutal blow.

The taut string inside her finally snapped.

She couldn’t even identify what she was feeling anymore.

Everything swirled together, suffocating her, leaving no room to breathe.

That last shred of wishful thinking crumbled away.

Regret and sorrow overwhelmed her all at once.

Why?

Why hadn’t she tried harder to stop Chi Ye this afternoon?

If she hadn’t wallowed in self-pity, if she hadn’t kept her appointment with Jiang Xu, if she’d made one last effort would Chi Ye have stayed?

But there were no second chances.

She had lost Chi Ye for good.

After tonight, their story would be over.

Before Chu Jin could process it, hot tears were already streaming down her face.

She didn’t even try to wipe them away, suppressing the immense pain as she walked back to her room.

After all, adults must maintain their dignity even when heartbroken, one must suffer behind closed doors.

Chu Yin walked this stretch of road like a lifeless corpse, her steps uneven and faltering, fleeing like a defeated soul.

Only when she reached the door, swiping the keycard with a light beep, did the door swing open.

A strong scent of alcohol assaulted her senses.

Chu Yin froze.

The tear that had slipped down earlier remained unbrushed, leaving a glistening trail under the dim yellow light of the room, reflecting a faint shimmer.

It became a vivid portrait of desolation.

And it was in this moment that she saw Chi Ye.

A bottle of liquor dangled from Chi Ye’s hand. Hearing the sound, she stumbled toward Chu Yin without even bothering to put on shoes.

“You’re back!”

The fragrance of her perfume mingled with the sharp tang of alcohol. Chi Ye’s cheeks were flushed pink, her intoxication evident.

The usual composed and aloof demeanor melted away, replaced by a look of utter grievance the moment she saw Chu Yin.

“I thought you weren’t coming back.”

Chu Yin stood rooted in place, her gaze vacant, even disbelieving.

Hadn’t she  gone to see Feng Yuwei?

“Why, are you here?” Chu Yin’s voice was hoarse.

Chi Ye set the bottle down on the table with a crisp clink, though she managed to steady it.

Then, step by step, she drew closer to Chu Yin.

“I’ve been waiting for you for so long,” she murmured as she approached.

She had nearly finished the entire bottle.

This was the first time she had ever been this drunk.

Looking at Chi Ye before her, Chu Yin finally felt reality sink in.

The gray, desolate world she had been trapped in was suddenly infused with color again, bathed in radiant light.

The joy of regaining what she thought she had lost made Chu Yin’s tears spill once more.

She shut the door behind her and then rushed toward Chi Ye, pulling her into a tight embrace.

So tight it was as if she wanted to meld her into her very being.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that. I should have told you sooner. I love you. I don’t want us to just be bound by a contract.” Chi Ye wrapped her arms around Chu Yin’s waist, burying her face in the crook of her neck, her voice trembling with unshed tears. “I can’t lose you.”

“I thought you wouldn’t come back. I thought,  I’d never see you again.”

Every word from Chi Ye felt like a needle piercing Chu Yin’s heart.

She hadn’t expected that her so-called method of forcing Chi Ye to confront her own feelings would cause her so much pain.

The proud, untouchable flower of the high mountains was now drunk and weeping in her arms.

“I’m the one who’s sorry. I’m the one who’s terrible.” Chu Yin held Chi Ye tightly, one hand stroking the back of her head, her own throat aching. “I’m a bad person.”

“You’re not a bad person. You’re my wife.”

Chi Ye suddenly lifted her gaze to meet Chu Yin’s. Her eyes were slightly red, a single tear still clinging to her lashes, evoking an overwhelming tenderness.

It made Chu Yin’s heart clench.

And then, warmth flooded her entirely.

In this moment, Chu Yin had only one thought.

They would be together forever.

Her gaze softened as it traced Chi Ye’s face from her brows, to the tip of her nose, down to her slightly flushed lips.

It was only now that Chu Yin realized the truth.

The most important thing about loving someone was simply being by their side.

Even if there were past wounds the other couldn’t yet voice aloud, they were not meant to be wielded as weapons of doubt and hurt.

Chi Ye had already said she held no affection for Wan Qing. That alone was enough.

Whatever had happened before no longer mattered.

Because trust was the glue that held love together.

She trusted Chi Ye. That was all that mattered.

“Chi Ye, I love you.”

Chu Yin whispered the words.

Her voice was tender, her gaze sincere.

Upon receiving the confession, Chi Ye was momentarily stunned before a smile blossomed on her face.

“I love you too, so much.”

Their gazes locked, leaving only the joy of something lost and found again in their eyes.

Chu Jin’s lips curled into a carefree smile. “I’ve already decided, no matter what happens, I won’t separate from you. Even if our attributes clash, so what? Even if the world doesn’t approve…”

At this point, Chi Ye suddenly interrupted, “Wait.”

Then, under Chu Jin’s puzzled gaze, she slowly peeled off her own scent-blocking patch.

Chi Ye’s eyes were slightly red, her moist pupils burning with intense fire, the gland at the nape of her neck already swollen.

An overwhelming sweet orange scent assaulted the senses, instantly permeating the entire room.

She hooked her arms around Chu Jin’s neck.

“Mark me,” she whispered coyly.

Chu Jin: …?

This was the first time Chu Jin had carefully smelled Chi Ye’s pheromones, and her calm thoughts instantly exploded.

Wasn’t this scent exclusive to omegas?!

Support After Marrying the Cold Omega in Secret