After Mistakenly Marking My Ex’s Older Sister, the Disabled Alpha Stood Up - Chapter 65

“Miss Yan, please don’t wait out here any longer. Go back inside.”

Ivy held up an umbrella, offering another into Yan Qingruo’s hand, trying to press it on her.

Yet Yan Qingruo seemed as though her soul had been drained away. She ignored Ivy’s words and the umbrella, her misty eyes fixed in a daze on the window of Jin Yunxi’s room.

Slowly, the curtains at that window drew together, sealing off the world between them like an impenetrable wall. Moments later, the light inside went out as well.

Darkness devoured everything—until the sky split with a peal of thunder.

Ivy returned helplessly. “President Jin, Madam is still downstairs. No matter how I try to persuade her, she refuses to leave.”

“She’s no longer ‘Madam.’ Don’t call her that again.”

Jin Yunxi’s fingers tightened around the wine glass. She poured herself another, filling it to the brim.

Outside, rain lashed against the window in torrents. She tipped her head back, swallowing the wine in one gulp. Yet no trace of its rich flavor reached her tongue—only a bitterness spreading through her chest.

Another crash of thunder split the air, tearing open the suffocating silence only to make it heavier still.

“President Jin, I can’t see Miss Yan anymore—it’s so dark. Do you think something’s happened to her?”

Jin Yunxi shot to her feet so abruptly she nearly knocked over the chair beside her. Striding to the window, she looked down. Yan Qingruo stood beneath a tree, drenched through, her hair plastered to her pale cheeks, her delicate body trembling as if the storm itself would swallow her whole.

Insane. To stand there in this thunderstorm—what was she thinking?

Jin Yunxi’s knuckles whitened as she gripped the window frame, nails biting deep into the wood.

Seconds later, the window stood open—but the Alpha at its side was gone.

Down below, Yan Qingruo had waited who knew how long in the rain. Just as despair threatened to drown her completely, the person she longed for finally appeared before her eyes.

“Ah Yun… I’m sorry.” Her voice was trembling, fragile against the storm.

“Fine. I accept your apology. You can leave now.”

Jin Yunxi extended the umbrella toward her. But Yan Qingruo only stared blankly, making no move to take it.

A flare of anger surged in Jin Yunxi’s chest. She flung her own umbrella to the ground, water splashing high. Her eyes burned as she shouted hoarsely, “Yan Qingruo, what do you want from me?!”

Tormenting herself. Tormenting her. Leaving neither peace nor rest.

Yan Qingruo’s body shook. With tear-filled eyes, she clutched the USB drive containing the AI video.

“I… I went to find this. I’m sorry. Jin Fan told me everything. It was my mother and I who misunderstood you, A-Yun… Will you forgive me?”

“Fine. I forgive you. I’ve let go. And that’s the end of us.”

Jin Yunxi’s words were cold, hard, like ice shattering against the ground—cutting off every last hope in Yan Qingruo’s heart.

The next moment, arms wrapped tightly around her waist. Their rain-soaked clothes pressed flush together, indistinguishable from tears sliding down their bodies.

Yan Qingruo’s eyes glistened with desperation. “You can’t just let go. You can’t. I won’t allow it…”

Her pheromones burst wildly into the storm, straining to pierce the icy wall between them. But Jin Yunxi’s body remained frozen, colder than the downpour itself. Against Yan Qingruo’s pheromones, she felt nothing. Her heart was dead.

“No… How can it not work…” Yan Qingruo’s voice shook with disbelief. She remembered—she had once successfully reversed-marked Jin Yunxi. Why now, why was Ah Yun’s body so indifferent to her scent?

Despair crushed her defenses, building into an insurmountable wall. She no longer cared about dignity. Even if it meant using the most base, instinct-driven lure of pheromones, she wanted only to hold onto this person before her.

“It’s useless, Yan Qingruo. I’m immune to you now. Every trace of your mark has been erased—completely.”

Jin Yunxi’s voice was stripped of all warmth. The moment she had learned the truth, her heart had turned to ash. She had gone to the doctor, had the marks purged, injected Omega pheromone inhibitors. Never again would she let herself be bound by anyone’s scent—least of all Yan Qingruo’s.

Yan Qingruo staggered as though struck by a hammer. It was as if her soul had been ripped from her body.

“…I see.” Her whisper was so soft, so eerily calm. “I’m sorry, Ah Yun. I won’t trouble you anymore.”

She turned, like a withered blossom cast into the wind, walking away in lonely silence.

“Fine. Goodbye. No—never again.”

Jin Yunxi’s lips pressed tight as she, too, turned away.

Would Yan Qingruo look back at her? Would she call out, beg her to stay? Forget it. From this moment on, they were strangers.

The wind howled against Jin Yunxi, as if urging her to stop. But it only rushed through the hollow cavern of her heart, scraping raw the thread that ran from her heart down to her nameless finger. Pain seized her suddenly, sharp and deep.

Yan Qingruo stumbled, nearly crushing her last reflected silhouette in the puddle beneath her feet. No… don’t let it shatter…!

Exhaustion from her injuries and the long hours in the storm finally overwhelmed her. Her vision went black, and she collapsed forward.

She thought she would fall into the icy water—yet instead she fell into an embrace. It was soaked through as well, but warm, achingly familiar.

Her last fleeting thought: This embrace… it will be the closest I’ll ever be to Ah Yun again. After this… only distance, only strangers across the ends of the earth.

Jin Yunxi carried Yan Qingruo swiftly upstairs. In her arms, the woman trembled violently, burning heat radiating through the drenched fabric.

She laid her gently on the bed. The wet clothes clung to every curve of her delicate body. Jin Yunxi averted her gaze, hurriedly turning to fetch a towel—only to have her wrist suddenly seized.

“Ah Yun… don’t go.” Yan Qingruo’s hoarse voice broke with a sob. Her eyes shone with dependence, longing, and the terror of being abandoned. “I’m so cold.”

Jin Yunxi froze. Looking down into those red-rimmed, peach-blossom eyes, something tugged painfully at her chest. But she forced her hand free, saying coldly, “Don’t move. I’ll get the medicine.”

When she returned with fever pills and warm water, she found Yan Qingruo struggling to sit up, fumbling with her shirt buttons. As they slipped free one by one, the fullness of her chest threatened to spill into view.

“What are you doing?!”

Jin Yunxi rushed forward, setting down the things in her hands, grabbing her wrists.

“My clothes are soaked… it’s unbearable.”

Yan Qingruo tilted her head back, raindrop-like tears still clinging to her lashes, her gaze hazy, seductive, her voice a whisper of silk. “Ah Yun… help me.”

Jin Yunxi’s breath caught. She snapped harshly, “Lie down. Behave yourself!”

Was this the impression she had left on Yan Qingruo—or was the woman truly delirious?

She turned to leave, but one glance back showed Yan Qingruo tugging at her clothes again, clumsy and failing. With a grimace, Jin Yunxi ground her teeth. “Stop. I’ll do it.”

Her fingers brushed hot skin, and chaos erupted inside her. She sucked in a sharp breath, furious with herself for faltering. Grabbing gloves, she forced herself to be clinical. Yet halfway through peeling off the wet fabric, Yan Qingruo suddenly wrapped her arms around her neck, breath burning against her ear.

“Ah Yun… you’re so warm.”

“Yan Qingruo, enough.” Jin Yunxi’s voice shook with anger and panic. “Do you care nothing for your own body?”

“No.”

Yan Qingruo’s consciousness was hazy, yet some stubborn, twisted part of her insisted: if she cherished her body, then Ah Yun would not cherish her. And so, by that irrational, desperate logic, she let herself go.