After Mistakenly Marking My Ex’s Older Sister, the Disabled Alpha Stood Up - Chapter 24

1The call was from Yan Qingruo—so sudden it almost startled her.
I

n an instant, Jin Yunxi pulled her right hand free and quickly switched the video to voice-only mode.

At that moment, her posture with Lin Ruxi was… hard to explain.

The imperious queen had, without warning, settled on her lap, one hand pressing down firmly over hers.

Jin Yunxi’s brows drew tight. Yan Qingruo mustn’t see this.

But… why?

A fleeting light crossed her eyes—complicated, probing, obscure.

The video wavered for two seconds. In that brief tilt of the screen, Yan Qingruo glimpsed a manicured hand—strange, unfamiliar—laid over another slender hand she knew all too well.

She blinked. The video was quickly switched off, replaced by audio, the transition too swift, too carefully disguised, almost as if what she had just seen had been a trick of her imagination.

But… who was with Ah Yun?

Jin Yunxi’s tone suddenly softened into intimacy.

“Wife, what is it?” Her voice was steady, carrying a rare warmth.

That single word—wife—sent heat rushing to Yan Qingruo’s cheeks.

Her intuition whispered that something was wrong. Why switch off the video? And yet, her heart leapt ahead of reason, wrapped sweetly in that unexpected endearment.

Wait… the manicured hand she’d seen—whose was it?

“Ah Yun, when are you coming home? I waited all night for you,” Yan Qingruo coaxed, her voice lilting and tender.

There was a pause, then: “Not sure.”

And in the next beat, laughter spilled faintly from the other end, a woman’s voice smooth and elegant—

“Miss Yan, I am Lin Ruxi. The Secretary-General is discussing state affairs with me.” She had taken the phone.

The queen issued her dismissal bluntly, like a command.

But Yan Qingruo pressed on, unwilling to yield. “Ah Yun, I made your favorite dishes. Come home for dinner, all right? And if Her Majesty would do us the honor, she is welcome to join too.”

Then, as though fearful that wasn’t enough, Yan Qingruo added softly, “Wife, I’ll be waiting.”

With a crisp ding, Lin Ruxi closed the call right in front of Jin Yunxi.

“How very devoted you two are,” she remarked with a faint smile.

Jin Yunxi smiled as well, calm, unhurried. “Can’t be helped. My wife is rather clingy.”

Lin Ruxi toyed with the phone in her hand, arching a brow. “You’re sure you’re not just putting on a show for me?” She could sense that their display of affection might be nothing but an act.

And yet—

For those two seconds, Jin Yunxi could have avoided letting Yan Qingruo see. She had deliberately allowed the glimpse.

A trap turned back on the trapper—this was the first time Lin Ruxi herself had been outmaneuvered.

Jin Yunxi cast her a sidelong glance.

“Weren’t you the one who wanted her to see us together?”

Lin Ruxi’s hand lingered at her neck, habitually brushing against her glands. Jin Yunxi leaned back, pressing down on her wrist to stop her.

The queen rose gracefully from her lap. “But I do think, Xiao Xi, that you rather enjoy the thrill of being caught in an affair.”

“Care to consider having one with me?” Lin Ruxi muttered.

“No.” The refusal was flat. Jin Yunxi despised betrayal, abhorred infidelity. Her father’s cheating had driven her mother to an early grave.

Even in a marriage built on contract, she demanded faithfulness—of herself, and of Yan Qingruo.

“You’re afraid Yan Qingruo will be upset?” Lin Ruxi stated.

She didn’t bother to deny it, nor did she care to explain further.

Lin Ruxi let out a cold laugh. “Wife? That Yan Qingruo? What can she give you? She can’t even recall her own past. How can she give you a love that’s whole?”

The words pricked at Jin Yunxi.

She thought of the difference before and after Yan Qingruo’s amnesia—her former cruelty, her volatility, her cautious maneuvering when faced with Lin Ruxi, all those layers of irritation and exhaustion.

Yet when she thought of Yan Qingruo now, the heaviness lodged in her throat melted into something fragile, tender, sour-sweet.

Despite everything—despite yesterday’s quarrel that had left her seething—

Now, with another woman seated on her lap,

Even though this woman held rank enough to dictate her fate with a mere gesture,

Even though she could have everything she wanted—power, Jin Corporation’s security, prestige—by yielding just one night,

All Jin Yunxi wanted in that moment was Yan Qingruo.

To see her, even to quarrel with her, to fight, to sulk—anything, so long as she was there.

Suddenly, she had no patience left to spar with Lin Ruxi.

“Your Majesty, my wife is a Beta. I’ve only ever loved Betas, and I never will love an Omega.”

Lin Ruxi’s fingers drummed against the armrest of her wheelchair. “Then swear it—never mark an Omega, never take one to your bed.” She leaned down, her voice a taunt. “Are you certain your susceptibility periods don’t need an Omega?”

Jin Yunxi met her gaze coolly. “Though Qingruo is a Beta, we’ve chosen each other. I will not betray her.”

“Ha.” Lin Ruxi sneered. “You think a partner is just companionship? Alpha and Beta together can never be whole.”

Jin Yunxi frowned. “Then tell me, Your Majesty—what is it you like about me?”

A flicker of admiration slipped through Lin Ruxi’s eyes, quickly hidden. “You are an S-class Alpha. The Empire needs your superior genes—to give the royal family powerful heirs.”

Disgust churned in Jin Yunxi. Her reply was cold, cutting. “Then I’ll disappoint you. I’m crippled. My glands are half-ruined. I can’t fully mark an Omega, much less make one bear children.”

For an Alpha, to admit such weakness aloud was rare. Lin Ruxi blinked, momentarily thrown.

But Jin Yunxi wasn’t finished. She added weight to the blow:

“Not only am I useless at marking… I’m frigid as well.”

Lin Ruxi: “???”

________________________________________

Meanwhile, at Yalan Television, Yan Qingruo had returned to work. She had long since moved behind the scenes, rarely showing her face at the station, disguising herself with glasses to downplay both her looks and her family background.

Now, with her relationship to Jin Yunxi made public, her true face was revealed. As both the Secretary-General’s wife and a daughter of the Yan family, her standing in the station rose instantly, drawing eager flattery from colleagues.

Yan Qingruo, however, met it all with quiet composure. Once known as aloof and cold, she had suddenly become gentler. When speaking of the Secretary-General, her eyes overflowed with affection. The moment colleagues saw the contact name in her phone—“Ah Yun”—they were stunned with envy.

But during a break, she overheard whispers. Gossip.

“They say she’s the Yan family’s young lady, a pillar at Yalan, but she’s still just a Beta. The Secretary-General is an S-class Alpha. How long before she fails to meet her needs and gets discarded?”

Outdated, backward words, laughable—yet others chimed in.

“Exactly. The queen clearly favors Jin Yunxi. An A–A pairing is much more fitting. I totally ship them.”

Her radiant features turned cold as frost. In the restroom, she slammed a flush button she didn’t need to press, face grim as she stepped out.

The gossipers scattered like startled birds.

She remained standing there, emotions twisting inside. She trusted Jin Yunxi wouldn’t betray her. And yet—those words, those rumors, the memory of the two overlapping hands in that call—they refused to leave her mind.

Only now did she realize… Ah Yun had been distant since last night. She hadn’t reached out today either.

Was Ah Yun angry?

Her chest ached.

But hadn’t they been closer than ever just last night? Bodies tangled, lips and teeth fevered, the reckless abandon of passion still burned on her skin. She had given nearly all of herself.

In the dark, with the lights off, Jin Yunxi had been clumsy, feverish, uncertain—perhaps even anxious.

And she had asked her again and again: Yan Qingruo, do you know who I am?

But who else could it have been, holding her so tightly?

Her fingers drifted absently over her phone screen. After hesitation, she dialed a number.

The truth of Jin Yunxi’s childhood spilled out: raised as an heir under crushing pressure, drilled in competition until it warped her health, deprived of freedom. Her father’s infidelity, her mother’s death, her grandmother’s favoritism for her sister, her father’s coldness.

She had seemed adored by all, yet stood utterly alone.

She had seemed bathed in glory, yet her nights were cold and plagued by illness.

“Yunxi… she’s someone with no sense of safety,” said Dr. Yaqi. Normally she would never say such things, but she sensed Yan Qingruo might be the one to change everything, to bring her warmth.

“She always fears abandonment—no matter how fervent the vows of love, once passion cools, she fears it will all vanish.”

“So if you don’t love her enough, don’t provoke her with a love too intense.” Yaqi’s voice grew solemn.

“She’s brilliant and composed in work, but in feelings, she’s like a child. Contradictory. If she ever hurts you, believe me—Yunxi will be hurting even more.”

Yan Qingruo listened in silence. She had lost her memories—was this why she had never understood her before? A pang of aching tenderness filled her chest, unfamiliar, as though she was meeting Jin Yunxi for the first time.

When she ended the call, she had made her choice.

She would go see Jin Yunxi.

But before that—she had to go somewhere she had never set foot in before.

A tattoo parlor.

—

Jin Yunxi closed her eyes. The moment Lin Ruxi left, exhaustion came crashing down on her like a tide.

She should have managed to make the queen give up—for now, at least. Yet before leaving, Lin Ruxi had still warned her not to let her be seen with any other Omega.

Jin Yunxi gave a bitter smile. As if that’s even possible.

She forced herself to swallow the disgust coiling inside. In front of someone of such status, she could neither afford to offend nor could she bring herself to fawn. The pretense alone made her stomach twist with discomfort.

The side effects of the strong SSRI-class R-type psychotropics churned within her. Or perhaps it wasn’t the medicine at all—perhaps she had always been sick to begin with.

She gave her wheelchair a push, laid the collapsible metal cane across her lap, and said to Jin Fan, “Time to train.”

From the depths of the dark fortress came the sound of wailing and screams.

Her hands were raw and stinging, the tiger’s mouth swollen and bloodied from repeated blows. Only then did she stop, pulling out a handkerchief to cover her face with a weary sigh.

In her other hand, clenched tightly, was the pill that could restore Yan Qingruo’s memory.

After hanging up on her earlier, Yan Qingruo hadn’t called back. She must have seen her with the queen—seen her as sycophantic, compromising, currying favor. Did that make her despise her now?

Or perhaps she had already gone to Shu Xiyue, remembering her so-called “first love” in full.

Jin Yunxi lightly thumped her failing leg. The craving for night-blooming jasmine pheromones, coupled with the fear of losing control over Yan Qingruo—that she might leave her at any moment, tire of her—surged all at once.

Her eyes were heavy-lidded with fatigue. Ever since that night of intimacy with Yan Qingruo, she hadn’t truly slept. Tilting her head back, she swallowed another pill.

Jin Fan looked at her with worry.

“Will you be going home tonight, Secretary-General?”

“No.”

A moment later, he reminded softly, “Secretary-General, your phone is ringing.”

It was relentless, ringing without pause.

Yan Qingruo’s text arrived, sharp and cold: “Come down.”

Just two words, but they carried a chill.

Jin Yunxi’s fingers worked quickly over her prayer beads. Had Yan Qingruo remembered? Decided to run away with Shu Xiyue? For one absurd moment, she even imagined what names their children might bear—her thoughts twisting into self-mockery.

She told herself she hated Yan Qingruo. She forced herself to recognize it as truth: this woman muddled her thoughts, disrupted her calm. Anyone who disturbed her peace deserved death.

Yet when she wheeled herself to the car, her hand paused on the brake. She lifted her wrist to her nose. “Do you smell anything on me?” she asked Jin Fan quietly.

“Blood, perhaps?”

Jin Fan shook his head. “No.”

Still, she washed her hands with deliberate care, wiped them clean with her handkerchief, pressed her lips together, and entered the car.

Her hands turned the wheels with practiced ease as she shifted into the detachable assist seat. Just as she leaned forward, sliding half her body into the chair, a pale, slender hand reached out.

Yan Qingruo tugged her forward by the tie, pulling her close.

“Which hand did that woman touch?” Her phoenix eyes narrowed, voice edged with ice.

And in that moment, Jin Yunxi’s dim gaze flickered with light—like a spark catching flame. Brief, fleeting, yet painfully bright.

Then it was gone, slipping too fast to be held onto.

“This one.” For once, the Alpha whose chin usually tilted with proud hauteur meekly held out her left hand.

“She deserves to be punished.” Yan Qingruo slapped the back of her hand with unexpected force. The alabaster skin flushed red at once.

Before Jin Yunxi could react, Yan Qingruo’s expression softened. She gathered the same hand she had struck, lifted it to her lips, and gently breathed warm air across the mark, rubbing tenderly.

“Yan Qingruo, you dare hit me?” Jin Yunxi arched a brow, but her words carried no anger.

“Sorry, I lost my temper. Does it hurt?”

Jin Yunxi immediately thrust out her other hand, the handkerchief wrapped around it in an almost comically bulky way. “This one hurts too.”

She wanted it kissed as well.

But she couldn’t bring herself to say it aloud.

In the end, everything was Yan Qingruo’s fault—this infuriating woman.

“What are you angry about?”

“Ah Yun, I don’t like it… what the queen wants from you.” Yan Qingruo’s voice was quiet, strained.

It was obvious enough to anyone.

“From now on, keep your distance from her. And never let her touch your hands,” Yan Qingruo stated.

“Because you’re my wife?” Jin Yunxi asked.

Yan Qingruo blushed, nodding before immediately shaking her head. Her breath was warm against the Alpha’s ear, laced with shy fragrance. “Because… Ah Yun’s hands can only touch me.”

She had no memory of Jin Yunxi’s hands exploring her that night—yet she remembered Lin Ruxi’s touch. Even the faintest brush was enough to sour her mood, the sense of someone else claiming first rights unbearable.

Heat spread to Jin Yunxi’s ears, even down her weakened legs. She said nothing, letting the silence be a reluctant agreement.

But she wasn’t about to let the woman off so easily. “Yan Qingruo, you need to answer me one question—and promise me one thing.”

“Have you ever held hands with that Shu Xiyue?”

Yan Qingruo’s eyes widened. How did Jin Yunxi know that name?

Then it hit her: Jin Yunxi must have seen the texts Shu Xiyue sent while she was in the shower. Was this why she’d been sulking all day?

Yan Qingruo almost laughed.

“I’ll promise you not to let the queen hold my hand. But in return, you can’t ever hold Shu Xiyue’s hand.” Jin Yunxi muttered.

In Jin Yunxi’s imagination, they had already crossed that line.

Yan Qingruo searched her fractured memories. Whatever she’d once felt for Shu Xiyue, it had never been what she felt now. That much, she was certain—she was clean.

Jin Yunxi pressed her lips together, staring at Yan Qingruo’s innocent face. Good. So she’s forgotten too?

Or perhaps only the important people, the important things, remained. Frowning faintly, she turned her head away.

Yan Qingruo tilted her face closer. “I promise. Ah Yun, are you jealous?”

Jin Yunxi hesitated, words stuck in her throat.

“But I am jealous,” Yan Qingruo whispered quickly. “I’m greedy. I want you to belong only to me.”

Her voice softened further. “And now I can answer the question you asked me last night. The one I was too uncertain to reply to.”

Her eyes glistened like water. “The person in front of me is you. The one who held me that night—was also you, Jin Yunxi.”

Yan Qingruo held her gaze, unblinking. Her slender fingers hooked at the hem of her top, drawing it upward in a deliberately slow, teasing motion, baring inch after inch of pale skin.

In an instant, soft whiteness spilled into view. Between the swell of her breasts, nestled like a secret, bloomed a tattoo of an iris flower, curling around the delicate letter Y. Mysterious, flamboyant, intoxicating.

“Ah Yun, don’t you want to take a closer look~?”

Yan Qingruo’s arms wound around Jin Yunxi’s neck, pulling her down. The Alpha’s nose was pressed into the warmth of soft, fragrant skin, jasmine mixing with faint milk sweetness, smothering her senses.

Color rushed hot to her cheeks. Her breath, ragged and scalding, spilled into the valley of Yan Qingruo’s chest.

Yan Qingruo shivered, her waist arching at the heat. She held Jin Yunxi’s head tighter, lips trembling with quickened breaths as her fingers threaded through the Alpha’s hair.

This tattoo… it’s all for you.

Ah Yun, don’t you want to look? To breathe it in? To taste it?

I want to be covered, head to toe, in your scent.

Jin Yunxi inhaled deeply, the fragrance piercing straight into her heart. The storm inside her—anger, fear, unrest—ebbed away in the small, enclosed space of the car.

Y = Yun.

I want you… to kiss me with your name.

Her lips grazed the tattoo, teasing, biting, tasting—again and again as if to claim it. Then, abruptly, she lifted her head, her eyes still hazy yet searching.

“Shu Xiyue’s Yue… does it start with ‘Y’ too?”

Yan Qingruo froze, the haze of desire scattering.

“Still insisting you’re not jealous?” She poked her finger lightly against Jin Yunxi’s forehead.

“I am not,” Jin Yunxi muttered, though her voice grew quieter, her eyes darting away, the tips of her ears glowing red.

Yan Qingruo laughed softly at her stubbornness, all irritation melting away.

She cupped Jin Yunxi’s face, leaned in, and bit her lips—those lips that were always proud, always unyielding.

“Ah Yun, kiss me,” she whispered against her mouth, her voice trembling with tenderness. “The name tattooed here is yours. The one kissing me… is also you.”

Soften my lips, soften my heart.

“From now on, every time we meet, kissing starts at a hundred.”

Jin Yunxi finally closed her eyes and sighed, taking the initiative for the first time to press her lips against Yan Qingruo’s.

And in her damp palm, clenched and sweating, the pill that could restore memories nearly slipped free, threatening to vanish silently into the shadows beneath the car seat.