After Mistakenly Marking My Ex’s Older Sister, the Disabled Alpha Stood Up - Chapter 22

The faint morning light filtered through the sheer curtains, casting hazy shadows across the wide bed.

Jin Yunxi was the first to stir awake. Beside her, Yan Qingruo was still fast asleep, looking utterly exhausted.

She tugged the blanket up, covering her bare shoulder. From the curve of her shoulder down, faint crimson marks trailed toward her chest—an intoxicating sight that made Jin Yunxi’s face flush.

The woman murmured in her sleep, lips slightly parted, brows knit as if she was still restless even in dreams.

“Ah Yun… just a little closer… mmm~ just a little more.”

Jin Yunxi’s cheeks grew hot. Last night had been passionate, though it hadn’t gone all the way. Still, as someone who had nearly preserved even her first kiss until now, she had almost lost all restraint with Yan Qingruo.

Wasn’t everything happening too fast? Besides… Yan Qingruo was still in a state of amnesia. That thought unsettled her.

She recalled the night before—Yan Qingruo, swept away in waves of desire, eyes hazy with longing. Jin Yunxi had leaned close and softly asked: “Who’s the person in front of you?”

Only when she received a certain, unwavering answer did she let down her guard and allow herself to drown—fooling herself, surrendering to the intoxicating night-blooming jasmine scent of Yan Qingruo’s pheromones, craving again and again her gentleness and… the flood of warmth that poured out from within her.

Later, while brushing her teeth, she couldn’t help pressing her lips together. The lingering taste at her mouth wasn’t just strawberries and peaches—it carried the faint, heady note of night-blooming jasmine.

“Ah Yun, are you blushing? I just want you to get better soon,” Yan Qingruo had teased, pressing her hand down on her head as water splashed and her willow-like body trembled.

Jin Yunxi had coaxed her into it, but in the end, it was Yan Qingruo whose legs went weak, hair wet and disheveled, the one who ended up being undone.

The iceberg that had been restrained for so long had finally erupted into a volcano. The unrestrained indulgence left the always-cold and composed Jin Yunxi with a faint, uncharacteristic blush across her cheeks.

As she moved to sit up, she froze in shock. The glands at the back of her neck—long damaged—now seemed faintly on the verge of recovery.

Her eyes widened. She looked back at the woman on the bed, her expression conflicted.

Yaqi’s words echoed in her mind: “A hundred kisses at the very least—or a complete union. Only then will recovery come faster.”

Could it be… true?

________________________________________

Yan Qingruo slowly stirred awake. She reached out, only to find the space beside her empty. No Jin Yunxi.

Her mind cleared instantly, panic fluttering in her chest. The memories of last night flooded back, making her face burn scarlet.

Did Ah Yun think she had been too… shameless?

The bedsheets had clearly been changed. Her nightgown was soaked and unwearable.

Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to calm down—until she noticed a slip of paper lying quietly on the table.

In Jin Yunxi’s neat, refined handwriting:

I went upstairs to handle some work. Breakfast has been prepared by the housekeeper and is downstairs. If you feel unwell, come find me (crossed out)… No—find Dr. Yaqi instead.

Even through the handwriting, one could feel Jin Yunxi’s awkwardness. Yan Qingruo’s lips curved into a smile. She flicked the paper with her finger, as if teasing Jin Yunxi’s heart through the thin sheet.

Such a closet flirt.

Once she put on clothes, she immediately turned serious again. But who was it last night who kissed her, licked her, left her so restless that even now her lower abdomen still ached faintly?

Feeling hollowed out, Yan Qingruo pressed her hand to her flat stomach, her mind filling with blush-inducing bubbles.

She bit her lip and forced herself to stop, but… Ah Yun had seemed so inexperienced.

Had they really shared any kind of intimate, wifely life before?

After breakfast, she waited for quite a while, but Jin Yunxi never came downstairs. Out of boredom, Yan Qingruo opened her social feed—and froze at a photo of a face from long-buried memory.

A woman stood on stage at an international medical conference abroad, poised and eloquent, her smile brimming with confidence.

Something deep in Yan Qingruo’s chest stirred violently. The image pulled at fragments of memory she had long kept sealed away. Her gaze lingered on the white coats, and before she could stop herself, her fingers tapped out a message:

“How have you been?”

The message sent, she stared at her phone, regret creeping in almost instantly.

________________________________________

#Eighteen Positions for Nightlife#

#How to Make Your Partner More Comfortable#

Upstairs, in the study, Jin Yunxi pressed her lips tightly together as she typed scandalous search terms into the browser.

Pages of indecent information exploded across the screen. The further she scrolled, the redder her ears burned. She had never imagined that beyond the “traditional” way of doing things, there were so many…

variations.

Her fingers moved unconsciously on the mouse. Each new suggestion sent her heart racing faster. And gradually, in every description and every image, she substituted Yan Qingruo—her curves, her warmth, her soft moans.

Each rise and fall was a mountain’s curve.

Each breathless sound was a siren’s song.

Her skin was delicate, warm beneath her touch. She remembered the way she had trembled, slick and shining under her hands, drawing her deeper into indulgence. One image after another, one sound after another, all echoed in Jin Yunxi’s ears like an enchantment.

“Damn it.” The curse slipped from her lips, though she wasn’t sure whether it was aimed at Yan Qingruo or herself.

“Ah Yun? Ah Yun?”

Yan Qingruo’s voice called from downstairs. “Aren’t you coming to eat?”

By lunchtime, Jin Yunxi wheeled herself down.

The air was thick with the fragrance of food—and the unspoken tension between them.

As she listened to footsteps behind her, Yan Qingruo quietly took hold of the wheelchair handles. Their gazes brushed for a fleeting second, before both turned away in flustered silence.

Jin Yunxi looked away faster. But Yan Qingruo’s words from last night still rang in her ears: “I like Ah Yun. Ah Yun, give me a little more.”

They said words spoken in passion couldn’t be trusted. But did Yan Qingruo’s words count? Were they real?

She avoided those wandering eyes, lowered her head, finished her meal quickly, and dumped her dishes into the dishwasher.

It was said the shyer a person was, the colder and more withdrawn she appeared.

From Yan Qingruo’s perspective, Jin Yunxi just seemed upset. The dishwasher hummed softly, and Yan Qingruo pressed her hand over Jin Yunxi’s. Since morning, Ah Yun hadn’t really spoken to her.

Gathering her courage, she knelt down in front of the wheelchair, lifting her face. Her eyes shone with delicate shyness.

“Ah Yun… do you think I was too wanton last night?” Her lips trembled as she bit them, leaving a damp red mark. If Ah Yun didn’t like that side of her…

The air around Jin Yunxi’s face flared hot. She froze, unable to move, until Yan Qingruo lifted her hand and pressed it gently against her own soft cheek.

“Ah Yun, don’t feel burdened. Just think of it as… me helping to heal you. Dr. Yaqi’s orders.”

Clang. A stainless-steel bowl slipped from Jin Yunxi’s hand and clattered loudly onto the floor.

So that was all it was—“just for healing”?

A nameless fire and smoldering frustration pressed heavy on her chest. Jin Yunxi’s lips curled coldly. She adjusted her glasses and said flatly:

“How could I possibly feel burdened?”

She pushed the wheelchair forward, leaving.

She needed to get far away from this woman—this woman who said one thing, felt another, and spoke with such casual ease.

The idea of taking leave to stay home and keep Yan Qingruo company evaporated in an instant. At this moment, all Jin Yunxi wanted was to head to the office.

“Jie, are you home?” Footsteps echoed from downstairs—Jin Yunhan had let herself in without invitation.

“Sorry, Miss Jin,” the butler, Ivy, fidgeted nervously with her hands. “The young miss insisted on coming. She said she was very worried about you.”

Jin Yunhan strode straight up to Jin Yunxi, skillfully took hold of her wheelchair, and bent down slightly, her face brimming with concern. “Jie, did your legs suddenly get better? That’s wonderful! How were they treated?”

Her eyes clung to Jin Yunxi’s face, as if searching for a crack that might reveal the truth.

Jin Yunxi’s expression remained composed. She replied evenly, “It was only a brief recovery. Now it’s the same as before.”

Her voice was calm, flat as still water, betraying nothing. She had no intention of explaining the real reason to Jin Yunhan. Simply tolerating her presence was concession enough.

At her words, Jin Yunhan seemed to exhale in relief, the faintest trace of guilty relief flickering across her features.

Yan Qingruo caught that fleeting change and frowned slightly.

With exaggerated warmth, Jin Yunhan said, “Jie, you’re still not mobile. Let me take care of you. I promise I’ll look after you properly.” As she spoke, she reached out as though ready to help Jin Yunxi, her posture suggesting she meant to settle in for the long haul.

Jin Yunxi subtly evaded her touch, declining with quiet firmness: “No need. I can manage on my own.” Her tone brooked no argument.

“I’ll take care of my wife. There’s no need for President Jin to trouble herself,” Yan Qingruo cut in, placing a hand on Jin Yunxi’s shoulder. Her fingers teased a strand of Jin Yunxi’s hair in an intimate gesture that made her possessiveness over her Alpha perfectly clear.

Jin Yunxi did not reject her touch, nor did she shy away. She merely gave a small nod—silent acquiescence.

The sight struck Jin Yunhan like a blow. Her long-harbored suspicions, her sour unease, were all but confirmed.

Her sister, so famously fastidious, could tolerate this closeness… She had always believed theirs was only a marriage in name. Could it be that…?

Impossible! Yan Qingruo was a Beta, and her sister was… Even the notion of an Alpha marking a Beta’s neck was absurd—like the sun rising from the west.

“But—won’t it be too much for one person alone?” Jin Yunhan still tried to argue.

“I am your sister’s wife. What exactly is there for President Jin to worry about?” Yan Qingruo’s voice was soft but pointed. As she spoke, she straightened Jin Yunxi’s collar, her fingertips grazing over faint hickeys at her collarbone, as if to cover and reveal them all at once.

One after another, those ambiguous red marks were plain as day.

Jin Yunhan’s face darkened at once.

She left quickly, without another word.

Sensing the odd undercurrent, Yan Qingruo murmured a warning to Jin Yunxi: “You should be careful of your sister.”

Feigning ignorance, Jin Yunxi asked, “Why?”

“I don’t know… It’s just, the way she looks at you—it unsettles me. Her respect for you feels… superficial.”

“Ah Yun, don’t go to the office, please? The Queen already approved your leave.” Yan Qingruo tilted her head slightly. Even when she wasn’t smiling, her expression carried a natural hint of one.

Her eyes shimmered, the corners tinted with a delicate flush, clear and soulful—the kind of gaze that seemed tender even when turned on a stray dog.

Seductive and captivating, unforgettable once seen.

And when Yan Qingruo did smile, her eyes curved like crescent moons, brimming with warmth so soft it stirred the heart.

Jin Yunxi found herself wavering under her coaxing.

She looked at Yan Qingruo, lips parting as if to say something. But then, Yan Qingruo’s phone chimed suddenly. At first she ignored it, but when she saw the name on the screen, her lips curved into a sweet smile.

Without hesitation, she answered.

Ears pricked, Jin Yunxi heard her call the other person intimately, “Xiao Yue.”

—

That evening, steam curled in the bathroom.

Yan Qingruo stood before Jin Yunxi. “Ah Yun, your legs still aren’t healed. Why don’t we continue sleeping together tonight… and ‘heal’ each other?”

The way she lingered over the word “heal,” coupled with the coy, misty look in her eyes, made the air thicken with implication.

“Doctor Yaqi said, at least a hundred kisses to start. Last night… was nowhere near enough.”

A feather seemed to brush across Jin Yunxi’s heart. She neither agreed nor refused. Lifting her gaze to Yan Qingruo’s lips—plump and soft—she found Yan Qingruo staring back at her. Their eyes locked, heat coiling between them, until both looked away in flustered silence.

Jin Yunxi rubbed her brow and gave a soft “mm,” the tips of her ears flushed pink.

Noticing, Yan Qingruo’s lips curved into a teasing smile. She winked, then bent down to press a light kiss to Jin Yunxi’s earlobe. “Wait for me, Ah Yun~” With that, she turned and walked lightly into the bathroom.
Water pattered steadily beyond the door, but all Jin Yunxi could see in her mind was Yan Qingruo’s smiling face while speaking to that “Xiao Yue.” With a sharp motion, she shut down her laptop.

Just then, Yan Qingruo’s phone buzzed with a new message.

【Xiao Ruo, it’s been so long. I miss you. Do you ever think of me?】

Sender: Shu Xiyue.

Jin Yunxi’s expression darkened instantly. She grabbed her crutch and shifted herself from the bed back into her wheelchair.

“Ah Yun, are you still out there?” Yan Qingruo’s voice floated out from the bathroom, mingling with the hiss of steam.

“I’m tired. I’m going to sleep,” Jin Yunxi replied coolly.

She tapped her crutch lightly against the floor, “dong, dong,” the sound echoing in the quiet room. Then she set a pillow across her lap, her gaze fixed on the bathroom door.

The only response was the slow hum of the blow dryer.

“…All right then. Ah Yun, sleep early,” came Yan Qingruo’s gentle voice again.

Jin Yunxi waited, but the door never opened. No words of coaxing, no attempt to stop her.

As expected.

As expected… Lu Ge’s words echoed in her ears once more: Yan Qingruo had fallen for someone three years ago. Her so-called white moonlight.

With a harder strike, her crutch hit the floor again, the sound louder than before. Face cold, she turned her wheelchair and rolled toward the adjoining room.

Tonight, Yan Qingruo would not be climbing into her bed.

A hundred kisses as the baseline? Hah. She wouldn’t even get one.