After Mistakenly Marking My Ex’s Older Sister, the Disabled Alpha Stood Up - Chapter 63

A piercing scream split through the air, stabbing at the eardrums. Jin Yunxi’s pupils shrank, her heart leaping straight into her throat.

Sirens blared in her mind—not good! Could Wei Ailun have returned? The Queen must not come to harm.

If there was a target, it should have been her.

Without sparing a thought, Jin Yunxi broke into a run.

“Don’t go!” Yan Qingruo shot out a hand to block her, panic in her voice. “Do you care about Lin Ruxi that much?”

“Step aside,” Jin Yunxi’s tone was icy. When Yan Qingruo refused to move, she deliberately provoked her: “You suspected danger from the start. Don’t tell me this whole thing was your doing?”

“Ah Yun, you can’t think of me that way. How could I ever arrange something like this…” Yan Qingruo’s eyes brimmed with tears. “Yes, I’m jealous of the Queen—she has the standing to meet you at any time, to force your compromise.”

But she would never stoop so low.

“Yan Qingruo, in the past you always had the power to shatter my heart, to humiliate me, to wound me. But now—I’ve let it go.”

Those words crushed down on her chest like a giant hand. Tears spilled as Yan Qingruo clutched at Jin Yunxi’s hand, shaking her head stubbornly.

She was like a flower in the wind—cold, fragile, yet unyielding.

“Ah Yun, you can’t let go so quickly.” She would rather be hated than forgotten.

Jin Yunxi tore her hand free without hesitation. The hem of her suit brushed against the woman’s trembling fingertips as she strode away, never looking back, plunging into the chaos ahead.

Inside the banquet hall, shattered crystal rained across the floor. Guests screamed and scattered in panic, the scene dissolving into utter chaos. Jin Yunxi darted swiftly through the stampede, eyes scanning for the Queen while keeping her senses sharp for threats.

Through the gaps in the crowd, she caught sight of the Queen’s jade bracelet. Just as she moved toward it, a figure burst from the shadows, dagger raised—its target clear: her.

Jin Yunxi’s eyes flashed cold. She twisted aside, reaching instinctively for the weapon at her waist.

But there were too many of them, their attacks sharp and relentless. She was being forced onto the back foot.

Yan Qingruo had followed closely behind. When she saw the blades strike, her chest tightened—without a second thought, she rushed forward.

The hiss of steel cleaving the air rang sharp in Jin Yunxi’s ears. Pain shot through her eyes as she tried to push Yan Qingruo away, but she only managed to clutch a torn scrap of fabric from her gown.

“Yan Qingruo, are you insane? Get back!”

It was too late. A dagger plunged downward, aimed at Jin Yunxi’s chest—yet Yan Qingruo gritted her teeth and stepped in, taking the blow head-on.

The moment the blade sank into her body, a muffled groan escaped her lips. She swayed, collapsing like a falling blossom. Panic overtook Jin Yunxi as she caught her in her arms.

Only then did the enforcement squad arrive, quickly subduing the assassins.

Lin Ruxi’s gaze darkened as she glanced at the woman who had blocked the blade. She herself had been closer to Jin Yunxi—yet in that split second, she had hesitated.

Blood seeped rapidly across Yan Qingruo’s chest. Jin Yunxi’s vision swam, her hands trembling as she pressed down hard, but the flow wouldn’t stop.

“Why… didn’t you move?” Her voice shook uncontrollably. “If I’m your enemy, wouldn’t letting them kill me suit you better? Wouldn’t it fulfill your mother’s wish?”

Pale as paper, Yan Qingruo still forced a smile. “Ah Yun… if you were hurt, I’d be even sadder.”

Sad enough to prefer death.

In truth, Jin Yunxi had misjudged—the assassins had targeted not only her, but the Queen as well. Fortunately, Lin Ruxi was unharmed. At the critical moment, Little A had appeared, pulling her to safety.

Little A had abandoned her plans to go abroad, reluctant to leave Lin Ruxi. She had intended only to watch from the shadows, but tonight her presence had saved a life.

Lin Ruxi glanced at the Alpha before her. The girl’s hand had been cut while protecting her, yet tears welled up as though she herself was the one in pain.

“Didn’t I tell you to leave?” Lin Ruxi meant to scold, but when her eyes met the girl’s gaze, her tone softened against her will. If not for her gun jamming, Little A would already have died in her place.

“I’m not leaving, Your Majesty. I won’t trouble you, I won’t be jealous.” Little A’s lips quivered as she pressed them into a line. “I know… you want to have a child with her. I won’t tell anyone.”

Her chest ached, but she only blamed herself—her low rank, her ordinary bloodline, her unworthiness of the Queen’s nobility.

She didn’t realize that it was only because she loved Lin Ruxi too deeply that she bent herself so small, always finding fault with herself.

Lin Ruxi’s hand hovered mid-air, wanting to brush the girl’s head, yet pausing. Little A’s skin was sun-kissed, her features marked with a stubborn resilience.

Half-kneeling before the Queen, she could no longer hold back her tears. Fearing Lin Ruxi’s disgust, she hurriedly wiped them away, then threw her arms around the Queen’s knees, burying her face and pleading in a trembling whisper:

“Please don’t drive me away again.”

“Your Majesty… if you really like her, I can even carry the child for you… hic… sob…”

Lin Ruxi: “…”

When Yan Qingruo was pushed into the ambulance, her pale fingers stretched weakly along the edge of the stretcher. Her frail gaze pierced through the curtain of rain, locking on Jin Yunxi not far away. In those eyes lingered attachment, along with countless unspoken words.

Would she die? Would they be separated forever?

Still, if she could die for Ah Yun, perhaps it would ensure that she would never be forgotten. That thought gave Yan Qingruo a strange sense of comfort.

Only… if she couldn’t die in Ah Yun’s arms, would it make it easier for Ah Yun to forget her? And would that, in turn, make her own death less painful? These days she had lived like a walking corpse—yet now, at death’s door, she felt almost alive again.

A mad, delirious obsession surged through her chest.

Jin Yunxi stood rooted in place, her body as rigid as stone. Her nails dug deep into her palms until the taste of iron filled her mouth, and only then did she realize her entire body was trembling.

The ambulance roared away. She jolted awake as if from a dream and broke into a desperate run, heels splashing through rainwater, her figure both frantic and disheveled.

The hospital reeked of disinfectant, the fluorescent lights searing to the eyes. The doctor removed his mask and, recognizing her, spoke with solemn urgency:

“Severe blood loss. And the patient’s blood type is Rh-negative. Our reserves are critically low.”

The words were barely out before Jin Yunxi blurted:

“Take mine.”

She, too, was Rh-negative.

The nurse hesitated, holding up a syringe. “But you’ve just been through an attack. Your body also needs recovery…”

“I said use mine!” Jin Yunxi slammed down her hand, the sapphire of her wristwatch striking the counter with a dull thud. The doctor and nurse froze—never before had they seen the Secretary-General lose control like this.

Turning her face away, she refused to let anyone see the emotions churning in her eyes.

The transfusion was long and torturous. Her Alpha nails scraped the armrest with a piercing screech. Pinned to the bed by the blood loss, she strained to turn her head, staring unblinking at the woman undergoing surgery just a few feet away.

Her phone buzzed nonstop beside her, messages from the Queen flooding in one after another. She neither had the strength nor the will to check them.

At last, when the light above the operating room went dark, the doctor’s words—“She’s temporarily out of danger”—nearly made Jin Yunxi’s legs give way. She almost slid off the bed entirely.

One look at Yan Qingruo’s face, pale as paper, and her throat constricted. Amid the steady beeping of the heart monitor, she slowly reached out—only to jerk her hand back at the last second.

…

A long time passed.

Yan Qingruo’s lashes fluttered. She opened her eyes to an empty ward, panic instantly clutching her chest. She struggled to sit up, only for the pain from her wound to force a hiss through her teeth.

At that moment, the door creaked open. Jin Yunxi walked in, holding a thermos cup.

She still had the IV needle taped to her hand.

Their eyes met. The air froze. Yan Qingruo managed a fragile smile.

“Ah Yun…” she whispered hoarsely, her voice rasping like sandpaper. Jin Yunxi cut her off immediately.

“Don’t talk.”

When Yan Qingruo’s gaze dropped to the needle at her wrist, Jin Yunxi quickly pulled her sleeve down to cover it. “This… has nothing to do with you. Don’t—”

She had almost said don’t flatter yourself, but the words changed at the last second into:

“Don’t overthink it.”

The thermos in her hand was heavy—soup, porridge, water. Clearly not meant for herself.

“Ah Yun, I’m thirsty…” Yan Qingruo murmured, brows furrowing in a pitiful attempt at coquettishness.

“Don’t talk. Drink.” Jin Yunxi awkwardly set the bowl and spoon on the table.

The sight dragged her back to when Yan Qingruo had first lost her memory. Pain tugged at her chest—because that amnesia had been nothing but a carefully woven lie.

Yan Qingruo forced herself upright, her face whitening from the pain. Instinctively, Jin Yunxi reached out to steady her, but the instant her hand brushed against her body, she recoiled as though burned.

Yan Qingruo’s eyes dimmed. She pressed a hand to her forehead and swayed, nearly fainting again, fragile as a reed in the wind.

Jin Yunxi caught her, feeling that all-too-familiar warmth in her arms. Her throat tightened.

Staring at Yan Qingruo’s bloodless face, she finally clasped her icy hand.

Her gaze fell to the woman’s dry, cracked lips. She took a sip of warm water, leaned down, and pressed a soft, damp kiss against them—gently passing the water across, wetting and softening those pale lips until they bloomed red again.

Sip by sip, she continued. To her surprise, it didn’t take much effort—the lips beneath hers parted naturally, like petals, yielding and accepting every drop.

Unbeknownst to her, Yan Qingruo’s lashes trembled, the corners of her eyes curving faintly as she fought to hide a smile. No, she couldn’t let Ah Yun find out.

Yes… Ah Yun still cared for her.

Her heart leapt with joy, pounding so wildly that the monitor beside her erupted in a sharp alarm.

Jin Yunxi’s face drained of color. She slammed the call button.

“Doctor—what’s happening? Why is her heart racing like this?”