After Mistakenly Marking My Ex’s Older Sister, the Disabled Alpha Stood Up - Chapter 34.1

Jin Yunhan had always liked her own name. It differed from Jin Yunxi’s by just a single character.

“Xi” meant the first rays of sunlight at dawn; “Han” meant the moment just before the light broke. After the darkness of night, there was Yunhan—then came Yunxi, the morning sun. Look at that— even their names were meant to match.

And yet, the thing Jin Yunhan hated most was also her name. Sharing the same surname as Jin Yunxi, both bearing the character “Yun.”

When their names appeared side by side on invitations—

“You two must be sisters, right?” people would immediately say.

Flustered, Jin Yunhan would quickly avert her gaze from Jin Yunxi, her face flushing scarlet. She wanted to say “No”… but how could she, when beside her stood the dazzling Jin Yunxi? In the end, she would hear her own resigned voice murmur:

“Yes.”

Even if only as a younger sister—so long as she could walk at her side.

The more she gazed at the sun, the more she yearned to possess it. The character Xi was beautiful, just like Yunxi herself—serene, fresh, radiant, so breathtakingly perfect.

Even if that same sun, upon her first step through the Jin family’s gates—when she timidly clung to her and called her jiejie—spat venom at her: “Illegitimate brat.”

Jin Yunhan had been born fatherless. When she was little, she once tilted her head up and asked her mother, Li Chunhua, “Where’s Daddy?”

Li Chunhua stroked her hair and softly replied, “Your father loves us… he just needs more time.”

So they waited—either for a man’s courage, or another woman’s death.

They lived in hiding, like pampered little mice scurrying in the dark—terrified each day of discovery by that woman’s family, yet secretly wishing each night that the man would come and take them away.

One day, that moment arrived. When they finally stepped into the Jin estate, the halls were draped in mourning white. Someone had just died. The lavish grandeur was muted beneath grief.

Little Yunhan lifted her head and saw it: a shattered sun, cold and pale, yet standing proud as a pine tree.

She was told to “Get lost!” again and again, yet she still scampered after Yunxi, tailing her no matter how many blows or curses were hurled her way.

Even Father Jin Hua couldn’t stand it at times and would scold Yunxi for her cruelty—only making Yunxi despise her more.

“Jiejie, what do I have to do for you to play with me? What do I have to do for you not to curse us anymore?”

What she truly longed to ask was: What do I have to do for you not to hate me… maybe even like me, jiejie?

At that time, Yunxi was like a haughty sun, chin always tilted upward, bestowing only the faintest scraps of light.

“You and your mother want peace? Then you’ll obey me. Don’t side with Jin Hua, and don’t you dare favor your mother either.”

And the young Yunhan promised—even when “learning to swim” meant Yunxi pressing her head under the water until she couldn’t breathe.

“Jiejie! Jiejie—!”

When she finally burst up gasping, Yunxi had already slipped into the water like a mermaid, cutting through the pool with elegance and strength.

Mesmerized, Yunhan could only stare, forgetting the sting of water in her eyes.

Later, she did learn to swim—but she could never catch up to Yunxi’s pace.

“Jiejie, wait for me!”

She remained nothing more than a shadow tagging behind.

“Yunhan, will you really stand by me?”

Still, Jin Yunxi never trusted her.

Jin Yunxi needed allies against Jin Hua. Jin Yunhan hesitated at first—after all, Jin Hua was her and her mother’s lifeline. Her mother may have had his affection, but survival still hinged on his whims.

“That won’t do. I hate you like this.” Jin Yunxi’s voice dripped with disdain. “If you want to be useful, then be a loyal dog.”

Her hesitation only deepened Jin Yunxi’s disgust.

On her biological mother’s death anniversary, or whenever she disliked Li Chunhua, or when Jin Hua played dirty tricks, Jin Yunxi’s coldness toward Jin Yunhan only intensified.

And Jin Yunhan, like a patient suffering from Stockholm syndrome, sank deeper and deeper into her addiction: addicted to Jin Yunxi’s insults, and even more so to those rare, intoxicating moments when she was praised.

“Mhm, this time… you did alright.”

A single absent-minded word of approval. She hadn’t even looked at Jin Yunhan, her sharp phoenix eyes fixed on her computer screen, lips merely moving in offhand remark.

But adrenaline surged like wildfire through Jin Yunhan’s veins.

One careless compliment could keep her elated for months. One harsh rebuke would drive her to tread even more carefully, straining every nerve to please her.

She thought this cycle would last forever.

“I’m going abroad for university. I’m leaving the Jin family.” Jin Yunxi declared.

“Jiejie, can I study overseas too?” Jin Yunhan asked.

“What for?” Jin Yunxi said.

Panic seized Jin Yunhan like ice rising from her toes. She couldn’t imagine a single day where she couldn’t see Jin Yunxi, couldn’t keep pace with her. Without Yunxi, she was a kite with its string cut.

“I’ll be back in three years,” Jin Yunxi said.

“Then… can I visit you, jiejie?” Jin Yunhan asked.

“No. Contact me only if there’s something urgent at the company. For daily matters, the department heads will email me. You don’t need to meddle.” Jin Yunxi answered.

Tears brimmed in Jin Yunhan’s eyes as she clung to Yunxi’s sleeve. By then, she had already differentiated into an Alpha—while Yunxi still hadn’t.

Doctors said in such rare cases, the outcome was extreme: either an extraordinarily high-level Alpha or Omega, or a lifetime as a mediocre Beta.

Rumor had it Jin Yunxi’s trip abroad was also for treatment.

Jin Yunxi refused to be a Beta. Only by becoming a high-level Alpha or Omega could she silence the traditionalist board members and seize her rightful control of the Jin conglomerate.

Back in the mansion, Jin Yunhan reverted to her role as a shadowy little mouse, scouring for scraps of news, obsessively watching her sun from afar, clinging to her faint warmth with a telescope’s gaze.

Even at university overseas, Jin Yunxi shone as the center of every crowd.

And Jin Yunhan, with her Alpha advantage and her position as the illegitimate daughter, gradually rose as a core figure in the new generation of the Jin family’s power structure.

Jin Yunxi’s sense of crisis was unspoken, but Yunhan could feel it: Yunxi feared she might one day replace her.

An illegitimate child, yet an S-Class Alpha—such a person could at any moment overshadow the rightful daughter and inherit the Jin fortune.

Jin Yunxi loathed Yunhan. Even if she appeared pure and innocent trailing behind her, Yunxi knew all too well: it was the arrival of Yunhan and Li Chunhua that had driven her own mother into despair.

Her childhood shadows began there—when her once gentle, cheerful mother no longer wished to play with her. The mother who used to smile, laugh, and dote on her became someone grim, withdrawn.

Walking together, her mother would leave her behind. When she reached out to hold hands, her mother shook her off coldly.

“Yunxi, you have to grow up. From now on, you’ll walk your path alone,” her mother said.

Jin Yunxi never understood why things changed overnight. Whenever her father stayed away, her mother would take a pill. After her grandparents died, the condition worsened—sometimes she’d sleep endlessly, sometimes she’d cry silently into the night.

Eventually, Jin Hua stopped pretending. With the servants dismissed, her mother’s drug use grew heavier, more violent. Yunxi often went hungry.

She couldn’t understand what was happening, only knew she was terrified her mother might never wake again.

So she made a decision—she secretly replaced all the medicine with vitamins.

That way, her mother wouldn’t sleep anymore. She could finally share a warm meal with her.

Standing on a stool, she tried cooking by herself, waiting for her mother to wake and eat together.

But gradually, though her mother no longer slept, her mood worsened, her silence deepened. She would sit staring at the sky for hours.

“Ah Yun, now that your grandparents are gone, I only have you. You must learn to take care of yourself.”

Like a final flare before death, her mother began teaching her chores—laundry, cooking. Her tiny body stood on a high stool, fumbling, until a fire broke out, nearly killing them both.

Afterward, her mother no longer let her help. Instead, she frowned and sighed: “Ah Yun, you’re so helpless. How will you manage on your own in the future?”

When her mother called her Ah Yun, warmth bloomed in her chest. She only used that name when she truly loved and cared for her.

“Mother, trust me. One day, I’ll take care of you.”

Brimming with confidence, Jin Yunxi stood in the kitchen, sleeves rolled up—until she heard something fall outside the window.

It was only the second floor. She went mad, bolting out. Her mother had leapt with an umbrella, drifting down like a broken blossom.

“Ah Yun, forgive me. I’ve failed you, and I’ve failed your grandparents. I was blind to his lies, too weak to protect the family estate. You must endure. You must fight. Whatever it takes—claim Jin Corporation, and take back everything that belongs to you.”

The doctors said her mother had no will to live. No treatment would help. And so, in the torment of partial paralysis, she lasted only a month before passing away.

Only then did Jin Yunxi learn the truth—that the medicine she’d swapped had been for depression. She had been the one to worsen her mother’s condition, to drive her to that fatal fall.

Jin Yunxi wept until her voice broke. Her mother had died never knowing it was her own daughter who had changed the pills.

While other children still stumbled through ignorance, Jin Yunxi had been forced to grow up overnight—and to understand far too much.

Jin Hua was not originally a Jin. He had married into Yunxi’s mother’s family and changed his surname to Jin, yet strutted about arrogantly, usurping the nest like a cuckoo. Even before Old Master Jin had passed away, he was already carrying on an affair with Li Chunhua.

Old Madam Jin, too, was not a Jin. She had merely been an ordinary countryside woman. But once her son Jin Hua outlasted the old master and finally seized the position of president of the Jin Corporation, she straightened her back with pride and began proclaiming to the world that she was the true “Madam Jin.”

Nothing in the world was more absurd—two people with no claim to the surname Jin now flaunted the family’s halo and openly took over the Jin Corporation.

Meanwhile, the one true heiress, the only legitimate daughter of the Jin family, Jin Yunxi, was forced to endure her mother’s death from depression caused by her father, and to tolerate a so-called “half-sister” barging into her rightful home, even rising as a candidate to compete with her for control of the Jin Group.

Everything—everything—should have belonged to her alone.

In the flare of fireworks, fragments of the past surfaced. Jin Yunhan flicked the ash from her cigarette. It burned her fingers, making her jolt back in pain.

How could she not know all of this? How could she not understand?

Some thought her meekness was a sign of kindness. To her birth mother, Li Chunhua, that was exactly how it seemed.

Others thought her restraint—her willingness to bow her head before Jin Yunxi like a dog—was a strategy, a way to wait for the chance to bite back at her master. They even praised her “patience” and “lofty ambition,” admiring her as truly worthy of being Jin Hua’s daughter.

That person was Jin Hua himself.

He permitted her to take Yunxi’s side, to act like her lackey, all because he believed she was “playing a part.”

But who plays a role for more than ten years—and finds joy in it?

Inside her lived a beast, fierce and untamed. Yet when she saw Jin Yunxi, she wanted to become a gentle little dog. If the dog obeyed, the master would reward it, look upon it with favor.

She thought this was their unspoken, fragile agreement.

But why—why, after Jin Yunxi went abroad, did she begin trying to differentiate into a high-ranking A or O? Why was there always butterflies flitting around her, men and women alike, forever hovering in front of her Yunxi-jie?

She despised those butterflies. But Jin Yunxi never clearly rejected them. She toyed with hearts in silence, allowing others to adore her, worship her, while maintaining that cold, lofty grace that drew everyone closer, turning admirers into devoted followers.

People would do anything to befriend her—men and women, all the same.

Jin Yunhan seethed with rage. If Jin Yunxi wanted to “play,” she should play only with her. Even if it meant being treated as a dog, then so be it. But how could Jin Yunxi have so many dogs? Could any of them match her loyalty?

And at that time, Jin Yunxi was still just a Beta. The thought that one day she might differentiate into an Alpha made Jin Yunhan wake night after night in terror. If her sister became an Alpha—or even an Omega—wouldn’t men and women alike swarm around her like wolves to a feast, clinging to Jin Yunxi until she had no gaze left to spare for her?

Compared to those butterflies and sycophants circling Jin Yunxi, all of them scions of power and privilege, Jin Yunhan’s worth in Yunxi’s eyes seemed smaller and smaller.

“Miss, this is the Eldest Miss’s differentiation report.”

The hidden guard from Country A tossed the report before her. On the paper, the words screamed back at her: Ninety-nine percent probability of SS-rank Alpha differentiation.

Jin Yunhan shot to her feet, unable to contain herself. “Do everything you can to stop her from differentiating!”

“It’s too late,” came the reply.

“The Eldest Miss has already differentiated into an SS-rank Alpha.”

With a sharp crack, her face blanched in fear. On the computer screen, abroad, Jin Yunxi stood among a team of female basketball players, rising on tiptoe to sink a perfect three-pointer.

“Jin Yunxi, the dream Alpha!”

“The peerless Alpha goddess, Jin Yunxi!”

Jin Yunxi turned back to those admirers and smiled faintly.

Jin Yunhan felt the sight like sunlight stabbing her eyes—sunlight that shone on others, never on her. It pierced her chest like a knife. Clutching at her heart, she gazed at Jin Yunxi’s slender neck, sinking into tortured thought.

…

Flicking the cigarette butt into the trash, Jin Yunhan realized she had once again fallen deep into memory.

The pain in her heart had not lessened. Jin Yunxi had gone abroad once more—and this time, she had gone with that woman.

Blankly, Jin Yunhan stared at the photos taken by a private investigator at the airport: Jin Yunxi holding Yan Qingruo’s hand, the two wearing low-brimmed hats, discreet yet still caught in a shot of shared smiles.

Her fingers tightened on the chair’s armrest. As she suspected… the moment Jin Yunxi’s legs recovered, she left. She even left the country—taking that woman with her.

Was her sister really so eager to heal just so she could have children with that woman?

Her own glands had been ruined by the same illness, but Jin Yunxi didn’t care. She never cared.

“Jie… where are you?”

“Can we meet? Please, let me explain.”

Jin Yunhan’s messages to Jin Yunxi sank without a trace. On WeChat, she had already been blocked. Ever since Jin Hua’s last scheme—when Yunxi saw Yunhan lend him a hand—Yunxi’s trust in her had been destroyed completely.

Jin Yunhan spent sleepless nights clinging to her phone, too afraid to seek her out. And now, seeing Jin Yunxi recovered, traveling abroad with Yan Qingruo as if on honeymoon, she felt like a kite with its string severed.

This time, her sister hadn’t just let go—she had thrown away the reel entirely. She was… discarded.

Jin Yunhan couldn’t stand it. Grinding the cigarette into her palm, she muttered hoarsely, “Jie… you promised I’d be your only little dog. Why… why are you still letting others near you?”

“When you come back, I won’t let you leave me again.”

________________________________________

“Congratulations, Miss Yan!”

The doctor handed the report to Yan Qingruo. Jin Yunxi stood at her side, accompanying her.

They looked so striking together that another expectant mother nearby, cradling her belly, beamed as her eyes lit up. She grabbed Yan Qingruo’s hand. “Oh my! Such a young lady, and already becoming a mother?”

Country A’s people were naturally warm and enthusiastic. Yan Qingruo’s cheeks flushed with delicate red as she opened her mouth to respond, but Jin Yunxi simply smiled and accepted the report. “Thank you, doctor.”

Dr. Louis flashed her an “OK” gesture. The potent memory-recovery medication would be delivered in three days.

They had planned to stay longer in Country A, but Jin Yunxi had too much work waiting in Atlans.