After Mistakenly Marking My Ex’s Older Sister, the Disabled Alpha Stood Up - Chapter 26

That evening, Yan Qingruo bathed twice.

While she wasn’t paying attention, Jin Yunxi quietly picked up the sealed pill bottle again, her thumb tracing over the surface as her gaze grew sharp and cold.

The pill weighed almost nothing, yet held between her fingers, it felt unbearably heavy.

Yan Qingruo had lost her memory, and yet Jin Yunxi still allowed herself to kiss her, to indulge in stolen pleasures. She tried to bury her unease, but it surfaced anyway.

Yan Qingruo’s affection for her was nothing more than an illusion born of amnesia—fragile bubbles that could burst at any moment.

Unless she could be certain that Yan Qingruo’s feelings for her were lasting, steady, and real, she couldn’t bring herself to fully embrace their closeness.

Before emotions spun out of control, before sparks became a consuming fire, Jin Yunxi told herself she must hold the line—must not let herself be burned.

Even if the so-called exchange of body fluids could hasten her recovery, she would rather take the slower road.

A fleeting fever of passion—just recalling Yan Qingruo’s slender fingers teasing the nape of her neck before bed—was enough to leave her restless.

This woman, her nominally amnesiac wife, now flirted with unabashed sensuality, her every gesture laced with provocation.

Jin Yunxi was no fool. Covering her forehead, she silently cursed herself. How had she lost her mind and kissed her first—kissed her so deeply she couldn’t bear to stop?

So this was what a real, lingering kiss felt like?

Her lips still tingled faintly. Jin Yunxi pressed them together, heart wavering, before scolding herself into shutting down those thoughts.

…

And yet she couldn’t help but recall that day.

In the car, the air had been thick with intimacy; Yan Qingruo’s cheeks flushed pink, her eyes shimmering with longing, brimming with tender expectation.

But the moment they stepped inside the house, she had transformed—like a saint entering her sage-like clarity.

“Get up.”

Yan Qingruo: …

“Hm?” Jin Yunxi turned at the strange tone, only to find the woman pinching her earlobe with one hand, her gaze a mix of reproach, irritation, and shy anger.

“The fabric’s rubbing… it’s uncomfortable.” Yan Qingruo lowered her eyes. The bra underneath had long since been removed, and she looked straight at Jin Yunxi, who was acting as if nothing had happened the moment clothes came back on.

Her pale fingers rose to her blouse, undoing the buttons one by one—one, two…

Was Ah Yun made of wood?

Yan Qingruo stared at her, then guided Jin Yunxi’s hand upward, her movements tinged with both grievance and challenge.

Why won’t you admit what you feel for me? Or… is it truly that you feel nothing at all?

But she herself could no longer deny it—she felt everything for Ah Yun. And that imbalance was bitterly unfair.

In her distraction, Jin Yunxi’s hand brushed against something firm, round, and sensitive. She yanked back as though scalded, the touch sparking like an electric shock.

The missing subtext was clear enough: “Too hard… the fabric chafes. It’s uncomfortable.”

Jin Yunxi nearly toppled from her wheelchair, her cheeks so hot they could steam shrimp.

“I—I’ll go find you something new to wear.” She spun her chair so quickly she vanished in a flash.

Yan Qingruo: …

________________________________________

“Come on, tell me—did it work? Did you manage to seduce her?” Lu Ge’s eyes sparkled as she clutched Yan Qingruo’s arm. “Did you use the lines from the guide I sent you?”

Yan Qingruo buried her face in her hands, voice barely above a whisper. She had more than said the lines—she’d even taken the initiative herself.

“And then? How did she react?” Lu Ge leaned in closer, her curiosity boundless.

Biting her lip, Yan Qingruo’s gaze dimmed with disappointment.

By all logic, when an Alpha was aroused, there would be unmistakable signs. She’d pushed things that far, and yet Jin Yunxi had acted as if nothing had happened.

The more she thought about it, the heavier her chest felt, like a stone pressing down on her.

She prided herself on her looks—had she already lost all appeal to Jin Yunxi so soon?

She remembered that night before bed, when, sulking and aggrieved, she had bitten down hard on Jin Yunxi’s neck.

That Alpha had only ruffled her hair in return, even thanking her as if the bite had been some kind gesture.

And yet, Yan Qingruo’s willingness to stand by her and step forward on her behalf moved Jin Yunxi deeply.

As they lay side by side, Jin Yunxi had said seriously, “Yan Qingruo, you’re already exceptional. You don’t have to do all this for me.”

Yan Qingruo looked at the beautiful Alpha beside her. The words on her lips—Do you really feel nothing for me?—died in her throat. She remembered that Jin Yunxi was in a wheelchair because of her, and all her complaints softened into aching tenderness. She told herself not to rush.

Slowly. Bit by bit.

But still—it was too much!

That night, Yan Qingruo rose again to shower before finally drifting off to sleep, refreshed.

Yet rest did not come easily.

Her brows furrowed, sweat beading across her forehead as she tossed in her dreams.

There, a pair of clear eyes appeared, set in a face like moonlight and gentle wind. In her hand was a pocket watch.

“Qingruo, have you forgotten your promise to me?”

She jolted awake, sitting up in bed. Beside her, Jin Yunxi slept quietly. Yan Qingruo reached out to touch her face, unease and loss welling up inside.

“…It’s not her,” she whispered.

Just then, her phone lit up—the very culprit of her dream had sent a photo.

“Remember this?”

A pocket watch.

“Shu Xiyue, what is this?” she asked, forcing her voice calm though her head throbbed faintly.

smile.jpg The reply came, a cold and mocking smile.

“Qingruo, so you really have forgotten everything? No wonder you never reply to me. Fine, I forgive you.”

“What did I forget?” Yan Qingruo typed back.

“I told you before—whenever you need me, I’ll be there. Even if it’s for the one lying next to you now, you can bring her along.”

“I’ve returned to the country. Meet me tomorrow at Springtime Restaurant.” Shu Xiyue included an address.

The following day, Jin Yunxi proposed taking Yan Qingruo out to dinner—partly out of guilt for having ignored her the night before, and partly as a gesture of gratitude for her commitment to the TV station.

Her assistant had prepared several date options, from winter-themed venues to summer gardens. The final option: Springtime Restaurant.

Yan Qingruo’s heart skipped. “Springtime Restaurant?”

“Hm? Something wrong?” Jin Yunxi asked, puzzled.

“…No, nothing,” Yan Qingruo replied.

Her instincts told her otherwise. “Then let’s go there.”

Seeing Yan Qingruo offer no objection, Jin Yunxi quickly confirmed the plan.

Yan Qingruo tried to steady her nerves. Surely they wouldn’t run into Shu Xiyue… but she couldn’t deny she wanted her to examine Jin Yunxi’s legs.

If the meeting was only for her medical expertise, would Ah Yun accept it?

Yet deep down, she hoped they wouldn’t cross paths at all.

Because if they did—would Jin Yunxi get jealous?

Yan Qingruo loved seeing her jealous. But she also didn’t want her unhappy.

Her heart was torn in two.

Inside the Springtime Restaurant, warm golden lights spilled like fine grains of sand across every corner, while the gentle strains of a violin drifted through the air.

Jin Yunxi was dressed in an off-white suit paired with a pale blue shirt. The celadon prayer beads at her wrist complemented her attire perfectly, lending her an air of purity and elegance.

Tonight, she wore no glasses. Her eyes, bright and profound like a hidden pool deep within a forest, glimmered as she took a sip of tea and glanced at Yan Qingruo.

Feeling her gaze, Yan Qingruo grew self-conscious. “Do I have something on my face?”

Or… was it that she looked especially good today, and Yunxi was about to praise her?

She tilted her chin slightly, waiting expectantly for a compliment.

Instead, Jin Yunxi tapped her own eyes, then gestured toward the faint shadows beneath Qingruo’s. Her tone was cool but direct:

“Didn’t sleep well last night?”

She herself had slept soundly—a rare occurrence. Strangely enough, as long as she was beside Yan Qingruo, she didn’t even need medication. Sleep came deep and undisturbed.

Yan Qingruo lifted her gaze, looking at Yunxi with quiet grievance. A thousand words clogged in her chest, but she swallowed them down. No rush. She couldn’t afford to be hasty.

Her lips parted, but in the end, she only let out a sigh. Picking up her fork, she poked idly at the food on her plate and muttered under her breath, “It’s only because…”

Mid-sentence, she thought of last night—the two showers she had taken, one even after Yunxi had already fallen asleep—and immediately shut her mouth.

Seeing her hesitation only made Jin Yunxi more curious. She leaned forward slightly.

“Because of what?”

Yan Qingruo gave her a speechless look. “Did Yunxi forget who was the first to find me fresh clothes to change into after coming home?”

Jin Yunxi froze, struck silent.

“Qingruo, you’re here after all. Been waiting long?” A pleasant voice rang out from the entrance.

Startled, Yan Qingruo looked up instinctively. Her expression faltered. Jin Yunxi noticed at once and followed her gaze.

Light, measured footsteps approached. A tall figure in an ivory long coat glided forward, her presence luminous, like a bright moon suspended above a forest stream.

Shu Xiyue exuded the air of books and intellect. Her features were soft, approachable—very unlike Jin Yunxi’s aloof, unyielding sharpness.

“Shu Xiyue?”

With a raised brow and knowing smile, Shu Xiyue’s eyes curved. She bent slightly and extended her hand toward Jin Yunxi.

“So this is the renowned Secretary-General of the Sovereign, President of Jin Corporation—Jin Yunxi?”

At the mention of her name, Jin Yunxi lifted her gaze, frost settling in her eyes. She did not take the offered hand.

“What business do you have?”

If Shu Xiyue noticed her indifference, she gave no sign. Straightening, she kept that faint smile on her lips, her eyes flicking between Yunxi and Qingruo. Her tone was light, but her words carried weight.

“I’ve long heard of President Jin’s reputation. Meeting you today, I see the rumors weren’t exaggerated. Still…”

Her gaze shifted to Yan Qingruo.

“It’s been a long time since Qingruo and I last spoke. There are some things from the past I’d like to catch up on. I wonder if President Jin would mind?”

A trace of complexity flashed across Qingruo’s eyes. She instinctively looked toward Jin Yunxi, who frowned ever so slightly, displeasure showing in her gaze.

Qingruo shook her head gently. “Today’s my date with Yunxi. Sorry, Xiyue—we’ll talk another time.”

At her intimate tone of address, Shu Xiyue gave her a long, searching look before turning back to Jin Yunxi.

“Then perhaps you and I could talk for a bit, Secretary-General. I’m a doctor. Qingruo invited me back to the country this time—not just for her sake, but for yours as well.”

It was true—Qingruo had asked her to return because Shu Xiyue was a renowned orthopedic surgeon. She hadn’t expected her to come back so quickly.

Qingruo bit her lip, casting a glance at Yunxi. The Alpha pressed her lips together before speaking.

“Fine. Let’s talk. Ruoruo, go wait in the lounge.”

Once Qingruo had walked away, Jin Yunxi’s eyes fixed coldly on Shu Xiyue.

“Say what you came to say. Don’t waste my time.”

And Shu Xiyue’s first words struck like a thunderclap.

“President Jin, I know you’ve been wondering what Qingruo and I once were. Let me be honest—I liked her very much. And back in university, she liked me too.”

Her gaze drifted upward, hazy, as if lost in cherished memories.

Jin Yunxi’s brows knitted at once. She cut in coldly, “And what exactly is the point of telling me this?”

Could it be that Qingruo still liked her? That Shu Xiyue was the so-called white moonlight? Heh.

Admittedly, the woman was striking—tall, elegant, with refined features. Apart from her lower social standing, she was flawless. Yunxi’s eyes darkened slightly when they flicked to her intact legs.

An Omega. And from her scent, even an S-class one.

Considering Qingruo’s teasing gestures toward her, and her apparent indifference to Yunxi’s disability, perhaps before losing her memory, Qingruo really had no feelings for Alphas.

So then… had Qingruo’s true love always been an Omega?

An inexplicable heaviness pressed down on Yunxi’s chest, though her aura never faltered.

“Doctor Shu, to stand before someone’s wife and confess your lingering feelings—what exactly are you after?”

Shu Xiyue’s tone was warm. “When I first heard she married you, I wasn’t happy. But now—I sincerely wish you well.”

Then, suddenly, she changed tack. “May I take a look at your leg?”

Before Yunxi could react, her hand had already reached out, brushing against the familiar spot—right below the tibia.

Rage flared through Yunxi. In that instant, she realized Qingruo must have told this woman where her old injury lay.

“No need. Get out.”

Her words were merciless. She jerked her leg away, forbidding further contact.

But Shu Xiyue remained unruffled. She lifted her hand, miming the grip of a scalpel.

“I’m a top orthopedic specialist. I came back this time for Qingruo’s sake. President Jin, she worries about you so much. Are you angry at her for that?”

Yunxi’s voice was like steel. “Whether I’m angry or not is none of your concern. That’s between me and Yan Qingruo.”

Shu Xiyue only smiled. “I arranged to meet her here yesterday. I didn’t expect her to actually bring you along.”

Yunxi’s eyes darkened. Yesterday?

“If you keep pestering her, don’t blame me when you disappear from Atlantis.”

And then Shu Xiyue laughed. Suddenly, she said, “Qingruo has lost her memory, hasn’t she?”

Catching the fleeting flicker in Yunxi’s eyes, she knew at once her guess was correct.

Her smile deepened with certainty.

“President Jin, if she ever learns that her true love was me all along… don’t you think she’ll find your lies and concealment absolutely revolting?”