After Mistakenly Marking My Ex’s Older Sister, the Disabled Alpha Stood Up - Chapter 5

Lin Ruxi slowly closed her eyes, drawing in a deep breath. The faint, clean scent of Jin Yunxi still lingered in the air.

Her thoughts wandered back, unbidden, to the very first day she met this young Alpha.

Back then, Jin Yunxi had stood tall and striking. Even with her inconvenient legs and the cane she leaned on, her brilliance could not be concealed.

She stood there like a proud plum blossom blooming against the snow, unyielding amid the bitter cold of winter. Her clear, bright eyes met Lin Ruxi’s as she said in a crisp voice:

“Your Majesty, if you would place your trust in me, I will devote all that I am to help you lead the Empire of Atlantis to its highest peak.”

Though supported by a cane, the confidence in her bearing and the unshakable pride in her tone struck Lin Ruxi’s heart like an arrow. She had met countless Omegas before, yet never one like this—an Alpha more breathtaking than any Omega she had ever seen.

Compared to the fragile delicacy of Omegas, Jin Yunxi shone ten thousand times brighter.

With prayer beads at her wrist and an aura untouched by the mortal world, she carried both the sharp edge of an Alpha and the soft grace of an Omega. It was as though she had been born to stand above all others, looking down from the heights.

Lin Ruxi had always harbored a natural resistance toward Alphas—yet Jin Yunxi was the exception.

That fleeting, breathtaking first glance had not dimmed with time. On the contrary, it had only deepened.

And after Jin Yunxi took office, her performance lived up to every expectation. With remarkable ability and a calm, steady hand, she managed affairs with flawless precision. Each success only made Lin Ruxi see her in a new light.

The more poised and dignified Jin Yunxi was, the more Lin Ruxi found herself irresistibly drawn to her.

Eyes still closed, Lin Ruxi recalled the memory of her fingertip brushing lightly over the gland at the back of Jin Yunxi’s neck. In that instant, Jin Yunxi’s body had trembled, a flicker of panic flashing in her eyes.

And just now, when Lin Ruxi’s hand had inadvertently touched Jin Yunxi’s thigh, the unease and avoidance between her brows had rippled through Lin Ruxi’s heart.

She couldn’t help but think: Does Jin Yunxi reject me only because she believes I’m an Alpha?

Well then—that much, the Queen could accept.

But she hadn’t been releasing any false Alpha pheromones. On the contrary, she had deliberately let her Omega scent slip through. For all the world saw her as an Alpha, she was in truth an SS-class Omega.

So why did Jin Yunxi remain utterly unmoved by her pheromones?

What unsettled the Queen even more was not Jin Yunxi’s lack of response—but her own. Despite all her efforts to tempt, she herself was the one left shaken, stirred by Jin Yunxi’s every restrained gesture and quiet glance.

The aura she carried, cold and untouchable like a flower blooming high on a cliff…

Even her crippled legs, fragile beneath Lin Ruxi’s touch, seemed breakable, as if the gentlest pressure might shatter them.

This side of Jin Yunxi, so different from her usual composure, only made Lin Ruxi want to dig deeper, to see more of the woman hidden beneath the surface.

More beautiful than any Omega. More reliable than any Alpha. A perfect little cake—too tempting to resist.

She had once sent her shadow guards to investigate. Despite the heavy defenses of the Jin estate, Jin Yunxi’s movements were still discreetly tracked. Soon enough, her guard returned, reporting back with the sight of Jin Yunxi and Yan Qingruo in intimate harmony.

That scene lodged like a thorn in Lin Ruxi’s heart, leaving a sting of displeasure she could neither name nor ignore.

“Jin Yunxi… do you truly only love Betas?” Lin Ruxi murmured under her breath, her eyes flashing with a chill.

If Jin Yunxi had lied to her, if what she wanted wasn’t a Beta at all… then Lin Ruxi would never let her go so easily.

The Queen’s lips curved upward, certain and possessive.

________________________________________

Jin Yunxi shifted slightly, turning toward the wife who held her arm. Her throat moved before she managed a quiet, “Thank you.”

Her voice was still cool, but softened now with a rare hint of warmth—awkward, almost reluctant, yet undeniably sincere.

“No need, President Jin.” Yan Qingruo released her arm. She tilted her chin just slightly, her eyes once more distant. That brief moment of tenderness was gone as quickly as it had appeared.

And once again, an invisible wall rose between them.

Jin Yunxi paused for a fraction of a second, but she wasn’t surprised. It was just that Yan Qingruo had shown her far too many unexpected sides today.

She suddenly realized how little she truly knew about this woman. The gentleness she usually displayed might only be the part she chose to show the world.

By nightfall, the city was alight with glowing lamps. Returning home after finishing paperwork in her study, Jin Yunxi was met with an eerie stillness.

At this hour, the kitchen was usually alive with clattering pans and the rich fragrance of food filling the house. Tonight, the stove was cold, not a sound to be heard.

The cook was absent, as was Ivy, the new housekeeper Yan Qingruo had hired.

Normally, one of them prepared the meals; occasionally Yan Qingruo herself would cook—mainly when appearances demanded a show of marital harmony.

But tonight, there was no need for such pretense.

Standing in the living room for a moment, Jin Yunxi finally asked, hesitantly, “No dinner tonight?”

Her eyes lowered, toes brushing the floor, her voice carrying a faint trace of something she herself didn’t notice.

Yan Qingruo looked up at her, lips curving in a soft smile. “Alright, I’ll cook.” Her tone was gentle as ever, as if her earlier coolness had never existed.

Jin Yunxi’s lips twitched, almost a smile, before she pressed them tight again. She turned and walked slowly into the Buddha hall. In winter, the cold always worsened the pain in her knees. Even with heating in the house, the damp chill seemed to seep deep into her bones.

Leaning on her cane with one hand, she took up another string of prayer beads with the other, fingertips brushing across the carved patterns.

She was beautiful, yes—but long years of illness had etched her with an austere, world-weary air. Lighting incense, the smoke curled upward as she turned the pages of scripture. Her lips moved softly in chant, the quiet cadence shutting out the world beyond.

Until the scent of food drifted in, breaking the silence.

Her fingers stilled. She gazed out the window at the glittering city lights, eyes unfocused.

And in that haze, Yan Qingmei’s face surfaced. By the banks of the Rhine in Country A, the wind had stirred her white dress, making her look like a flower in bloom.

Her legs had been unsteady then, her vision blurred from illness, but that woman had leaned close to whisper: You’ll get better. I’ll be there to watch the sunrise with you.

When they met again after returning home, Jin Yunxi had immediately felt a strange familiarity. Instinctively, she had asked: “Have we met before?” Yan Qingmei had laughed, eyes crinkling: By the Rhine, don’t you remember, Sister Yunxi?

She had even taken out the warm river stone she’d once pressed into Jin Yunxi’s palm, proof of that first encounter.

With just those words, Jin Yunxi had believed. She had decided this was the woman who had given her warmth in the darkness.

Now, as she thought back, confusion and sorrow welled in her chest. If Yan Qingmei had once promised to stay by her side—why had she run from the wedding at the very last moment?

That face grew blurrier with each passing day, but Jin Yunxi could never forget the way it had once shone like moonlight, warming her through the cold.

“President Jin, dinner’s ready.”

The table was soon laid with delicate dishes, their fragrance filling the house with the warmth of a lived-in home.

Jin Yunxi sat at the dining table, her gaze falling on the woman opposite her. For the first time, she found the address President Jin strangely jarring when spoken by her wife.

Yan Qingruo sat there with her usual gentle smile, her eyes soft and familiar. Yet in that moment, Jin Yunxi saw clearly—she had married Yan Qingmei’s elder sister.

Their marriage might exist in name only. They might never share true intimacy. But still, Jin Yunxi felt strangely dazed.

In her memory, Yan Qingmei’s face blurred, gradually overlapping with Yan Qingruo’s. Across the table, the woman rested her chin in her palm, watching her eat with quiet warmth. For an instant, time seemed to glow with a false, tranquil beauty.

Uneasy, Jin Yunxi set her chopsticks down and asked softly, “What is it?”

Yan Qingruo sat across from her, fingers tapping lightly against the tabletop, her movements slow and deliberate. With her daytime makeup removed, she looked cool, distant—almost like another person entirely.

She reached for a document and pushed it across the table. Her voice was calm, detached: “President Jin, if I recall correctly, our marriage contract will expire in a month.”

Jin Yunxi nodded slightly, eyes lowering to the file.

Yan Qingruo’s slender finger tapped the signature line, the polish on her nails glinting faintly beneath the light.

Her tone remained soft, but her words allowed no refusal:

“President Jin, I’ll need you to sign the divorce agreement first.”