After Mistakenly Marking My Ex’s Older Sister, the Disabled Alpha Stood Up - Chapter 32

Truth or dare?

The ever-cool Jin Yunxi chose truth—only to dig herself into a rather deep pit.

“Ah Jin, have you ever… done it with anyone?” At a class reunion, a girl who had secretly admired her blinked her wide, innocent eyes and asked the question.

And right there beside her sat her contract wife—who had lost her memories—looking at her with bright, liquid peach-blossom eyes, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

Jin Yunxi: …

There’s no medicine for regret.

If Jin Yunxi had known that coming to Country A would end with her being dragged into playing such a childish game at a bar by her old classmates—while Yan Qingruo sat right next to her, watching as one embarrassing secret after another got dragged out—she would never, under any circumstances, have attended the reunion.

This all started with one of her university classmates, Louis, who happened to be a physician in a top-tier AR medical team.

The Atlans Empire couldn’t completely eliminate the side effects of PT—the memory-recovery drug—but Louis’s team could.

Louis had only one condition: Jin Yunxi had to attend the class reunion.

________________________________________

The Day Before.

Jin Yunxi and Yan Qingruo stepped onto the unfamiliar soil of Country A. The international airport teemed with travelers of every skin color and background.

Passersby couldn’t help but sneak glances at the striking pair of young women.

Jin Yunxi wore a finely tailored, long trench coat that perfectly traced her tall, elegant frame. Her ink-black hair flowed freely over her shoulders, and custom sunglasses hid her sharp, cold eyes—though they couldn’t mask the commanding aura radiating from her.

Beside her stood Yan Qingruo, masked, with only her luminous, water-clear eyes exposed.

Each had her own reason for the trip, though they used the excuse of “travel” to come together.

For Jin Yunxi, it was the hope of securing the drug that would restore Yan Qingruo’s memories. For Yan Qingruo, it was the chance to visit her mother Song Mei’s grave.

Of course, Louis had long since spilled the news of Jin Yunxi’s arrival into the class group chat.

The group had exploded.

After all, Jin Yunxi was no longer just anyone—she was now the highly sought-after Secretary-General of the Atlans Empire.

She had already been outstanding in college, throwing herself into clubs and associations to earn higher credits, which in turn helped her build connections with professors and talented peers.

Had she not been forced to take two years off due to her leg condition, her flawless string of A+ grades might still remain unmatched, her academic achievements still the stuff of campus legend.

“Jin Yunxi will be there,” Louis told Li Qing.

Li Qing—the campus beauty—had liked Jin Yunxi all through university but had never had the chance to confess. Later, when Jin Yunxi fell for her “white moonlight,” she rejected every other girl even more firmly.

Rumor had it that white moonlight was named Yan Qingmei.

Li Qing never got over it. She’d looked up pictures online, unable to accept that Yan Qingmei might be prettier than her, and instead grew even more determined.

Why had Jin Yunxi never spared her a proper glance?

Louis, in kindness, warned her: “Jin Yunxi will be bringing someone with her.”

Everyone knew Li Qing still harbored feelings for her.

Li Qing smiled thinly. “That actress, Yan Qingmei? Hah. Then I must meet her.”

Convinced she was no less beautiful, she dressed to impress.

In everyone’s memory, Jin Yunxi was aloof and reserved, social only when duty or academics required it.

But still, people admired her. She was generous, sincere, warm beneath a cool exterior. Now, with her elevated status, admiration only deepened—people loved strength, and she embodied it.

________________________________________

The carved glass doors slowly swung open, warm golden light spilling out along with the din of music and laughter.

“If you don’t want to go, we don’t have to,” Jin Yunxi had told Yan Qingruo beforehand, sensing her low spirits.

Ever since leaving the Yan household, Yan Qingruo’s mood had been subdued.

“It’s fine,” Yan Qingruo had said softly. “Your friends are my friends.”

“They’re not exactly close friends—just people I knew in college,” Jin Yunxi replied. She certainly wasn’t going to admit that Louis had blackmailed her into coming.

In warm Country A, she had been surprised to find she didn’t need her cane. A small relief—but she also couldn’t explain why, whenever she walked beside Yan Qingruo, she resisted using it.

Sometimes she pushed herself, dragging her bad leg, just to avoid it.

She thought it was pride, but in truth, she simply liked how they looked together. She liked the way strangers glanced at them, mistaking them for a perfect couple.

The memory-recovery drug was nearly ready. All that was left was one vial of Yan Qingruo’s blood. The moment of truth drew closer and closer.

The more someone cares, the more they fear. And the nearer the loss, the greater the longing to grasp what feels real—even if only for a fleeting instant.

Like a firework—brilliant, short-lived.

It was something she had never thought of, never doubted, back when she was with Yan Qingmei. She had never felt this insecure before.

Love makes people timid. It fills them with awe and dread. Love is an imbalance, until the moment the other person returns it fully—and in that instant, the jagged edges of insecurity finally smooth into a perfect circle.

From insecurity, to balance, to ease. Until then, she wanted them to look as perfectly matched as possible.

That was why tonight, Jin Yunxi dressed with more care than she ever had for a formal occasion.

________________________________________

Inside the bar, lights were dim, jazz notes curled lazily through the air. The carved glass door opened once more, and multicolored lights spilled out with the noise of chatter and laughter.

“Wow! Janice—Ah Jin—is here! Janice!”

The tall Alpha in her elegant attire radiated a polished, elite aura with every movement.

“Eh? Who’s that with Ah Jin?” Under the shifting lights, Yan Qingruo’s face came into view.

She wore a sleek, figure-hugging Hepburn-red dress, the hem swaying lightly with each step.

Her luminous eyes shimmered like starlight, her lips a vivid crimson beneath the delicate bridge of her nose. Waves of dark hair cascaded over her shoulders, her slender waist and graceful curves swaying with poise. The teardrop mole at the corner of her eye added a touch of unforgettable allure.

The once-noisy space seemed to freeze, every gaze snapping toward her. Some people forgot to move, wine glasses suspended midair, eyes wide with stunned admiration.

Those who had never met Yan Qingruo finally understood in an instant why Jin Yunxi’s heart had been so firmly captured.

Li Qing’s heart gave a violent jolt. What the hell? This is Yan Qingmei? Did she go to Country H for plastic surgery?

Why doesn’t she look like the pictures I saw online? Different face entirely?!

“Oh ho, so you finally brought your white moonlight out in the open—the famous Yan Qingmei.” Someone who hadn’t met her before called out loudly, half-mocking.

Jin Yunxi coughed lightly, a warning for them to shut up.

She held Yan Qingruo’s hand and clearly felt the woman’s fingers stiffen. Beads of cold sweat gathered at her temples, and even their joined palms grew damp.

“Yan Qingmei, the so-called white moonlight?” Yan Qingruo let out a faint laugh, though it carried a chill. Her tone lifted slightly at the end, that trailing “hmm?” sharpening into a pointed question.

Sensing the shift in atmosphere, Louis jumped in to warm up the scene: “What are we all standing around for? Come on, let’s sit down.”

To ease the tension, someone suggested a game of Truth or Dare—only this version had a twist. They would roll dice, and whoever ended up with the lowest total from three dice had to answer a question.

Everyone quickly agreed, gathering around the long table crowded with bottles of alcohol.

The game began. Dice clattered in their cups.

Luck seemed particularly unkind to Jin Yunxi—she lost in the very first round.

By now, Li Qing had noticed something: the woman beside Jin Yunxi wasn’t Yan Qingmei. Her eyes gleamed mischievously as she leaned in with a smile. “So, is the person who gave you your first kiss here tonight?”

“First kiss where?” someone chimed in curiously. The question was far too vague.

“On the lips, of course,” Li Qing replied without hesitation. Laughter immediately rippled through the group.

Seeing that Jin Yunxi’s expression remained calm, Li Qing’s eyes flickered slyly as she added, “Well, it could be a cheek, or anywhere else. Lips included, naturally.”

At that, Jin Yunxi’s expression froze. Her lips pressed together tightly, and she fell into silence.

She reached for her glass, only to find it already taken—by Yan Qingruo.

Yan Qingruo’s gaze was fixed on her, intense and probing, carrying hints of something unspoken.

After a pause, Jin Yunxi finally answered: “Not here.” Meaning, the person who had kissed her wasn’t in the room. Yan Qingmei had once kissed her cheek—but Yan Qingmei wasn’t present.

No one could blame her for answering honestly. Before the game started, each participant had sworn an oath or staked a cherished wish: if anyone lied, their oath would bind them or their wish would fail.

“Oho, so your first kisser isn’t here, Yunxi? Hiding deep, aren’t you?” The crowd erupted into whistles and laughter. But really, who didn’t have a few exes? No one judged too harshly.

The second round came, and this time it was Yan Qingruo’s turn to roll the lowest.

Suggestions flew around until one mischievous boy asked with a grin: “If you could have any superpower, what would you choose?”

“Unfair! That’s too easy,” Li Qing called out in protest.

Jin Yunxi shot her a cold glance, making Li Qing bristle with jealousy.

After a moment of thought, Yan Qingruo answered softly: “I’d choose mind-reading. I want to know what the person I like is truly thinking.”

As she spoke, she lifted her gaze and locked eyes with Jin Yunxi. The look made Jin Yunxi falter ever so slightly.

Then Yan Qingruo added with deliberate sweetness: “I also want to know just how many ‘dear little sisters’ and ‘intimate big sisters’ she has.”

Her arched brow and playful tone left no doubt who she meant. The group instantly burst into teasing cheers.

Drama was always their favorite pastime—especially a love triangle, even if the rumored white moonlight, Yan Qingmei, wasn’t around.

Now, faced with Yan Qingruo’s breathtaking beauty, no one questioned why Jin Yunxi might let go of her old flame. Of course she had—because here stood a new, irreplaceable red mole on her heart.

The game rolled into the third round, and once again, bad luck singled out Jin Yunxi.

This time, the question came blunt and merciless:

“Have you ever gone all the way with someone here tonight? We’re talking bases now—first, second, third—and don’t skip straight to home plate!”

The group snickered. “Home plate,” borrowed from baseball, had long since become a euphemism for intimacy.

Yan Qingruo folded her arms, watching Jin Yunxi with leisurely amusement. Her peach blossom eyes sparkled, their meaning all too clear. She and Jin Yunxi were a couple, after all. In her heart, before the memory loss, she and Jin Yunxi had already gone to the very end—her Couple’s Diary proved it. To her, this was practically a free pass for Jin Yunxi.

What she didn’t realize was that cold sweat was sliding down Jin Yunxi’s back.

The questioning began—

First base: hand-holding, hugging, simple intimacy.

Jin Yunxi didn’t drink. Everyone immediately understood—yes, she’d gone that far before. But that was hardly scandalous; even close friends sometimes held hands or hugged.

Second base: kissing—whether a brush of lips or a French kiss.

Again, Jin Yunxi didn’t drink. She and Yan Qingruo had kissed plenty of times, both lightly and deeply.

Unwittingly, her eyes drifted to Yan Qingruo’s lips—bright, lush, irresistible. To hide her fluster, she picked up a glass of water and drank.

The air grew heated. The next stage was inevitable.

Third base: the home run—full physical intimacy.

Jin Yunxi’s ears flushed crimson. She hesitated, eyes flickering toward Yan Qingruo before turning back to the group. “Can I… skip this question?”

“No way,” Li Qing cut in with a grin. “You took too long! Rule change—if you drink, it means no. If you don’t drink, it means yes.”

Before Jin Yunxi could react, a cup of liquor was already pressed to her lips.

“Don’t forget the oath and wishes we made—no cheating!”

Expression blank, Jin Yunxi tilted her head back and drained the glass. The burning liquid scorched its way down her throat.

She didn’t dare look into Yan Qingruo’s eyes.

________________________________________

Mini Theater

A quarter-hour earlier, before the game began, everyone had sworn their oaths and made their wishes.

Jin Yunxi had raised her hand, eyes gently shut, her cold aura softened by a fragile tenderness.

Her wish was simple: that even after Yan Qingruo regained her memories, she would still… treat her this way.

Somewhere along thea line, this fragile, present state with Yan Qingruo had become more precious to her than regaining her legs, or reclaiming the Jin family corporation.