After Mistakenly Marking My Ex’s Older Sister, the Disabled Alpha Stood Up - Chapter 7

The bright lights shone down on the supermarket shelves. Families pushed carts, couples walked hand in hand, weaving through the aisles in the lively weekend bustle.

No one could have imagined that within half an hour, chaos would erupt here.

Lu Ge had nothing planned that weekend, so she tagged along with Yan Qingruo for a grocery run. Like a little loudspeaker, she chattered nonstop:

“Qingruo, tell me, how can I ever train myself to have the same presence as Secretary Jin Junxi? The way she carries herself—so sharp, so commanding—just one word from her and the whole room falls silent.

Amazing!”

Yan Qingruo gave a light hum of acknowledgment, her fingers gliding absently across the rows of neatly arranged goods.

Lu Ge continued in a lovestruck tone, still fangirling over Jin Yunxi. “Who wouldn’t be smitten by her? I can’t even imagine what kind of lucky soul gets to be her wife. An S-class Alpha—absolutely guaranteed bliss.”

Bliss?

Yan Qingruo’s hand froze mid-selection, words catching in her throat.

Jin Yunxi didn’t seem like an Alpha at all.

Although Yan Qingruo herself wasn’t an Omega and couldn’t sense pheromones, Jin Yunxi gave off the impression of a Buddha secluded high in the mountains—untouched, otherworldly.

Yan Qingruo had never once seen Jin Yunxi troubled by susceptibility periods, nor were there suppressants kept at home.

Lu Ge prattled on, “I heard her wife is that second daughter of the Yan family. I don’t like her, honestly. Oh, by the way, Qingruo, your surname is Yan too. Are you somehow distantly related to them?”

Yan Qingruo pressed her lips together. “No.”

Lu Ge nearly dropped her jaw—Yan Qingruo wasn’t the slightest bit interested in Jin Yunxi? She had wanted a fellow fangirl to gush with, but failing that, she quickly switched gears to pry into Yan Qingruo’s married life.

“How’s your relationship then?” she pressed.

“Good,” Yan Qingruo replied flatly, like an automated script.

That answer would never satisfy Lu Ge. She shook her head, teasing, “You’ve hidden your wife way too well. How good is this ‘good’ really? Don’t tell me you’re afraid someone might steal her away?”

Yan Qingruo fell silent. On impulse, she pulled up a document on her phone titled One Hundred Little Things to Pamper My Wife, ran it quickly through the AI text assistant for polish, and handed it over.

Lu Ge’s eyes widened at the header: A Hundred Sweet Interactions Between Yan Qingruo and Her Wife.

Lu Ge skimmed the first few entries, her throat catching at the sheer sugariness. Then she yelped dramatically, “Ahhh! Qingruo, you two are disgustingly sweet! How could you not bring your Alpha wife out to meet me? I need to witness your PDA with my own eyes!”

Yan Qingruo: …

Yan Qingruo had seen single dogs before, but never one that actively begged to be force-fed dog food.

Not to mention—there was no dog food to begin with. Most of the content had been fabricated by the AI assistant back when she needed to keep up appearances. She had glanced through—later entries were so embarrassingly intimate, escalating straight to the bedroom, that she hadn’t been able to look any further. No way was she letting Lu Ge see the rest.

Lu Ge’s eyes narrowed mischievously. “You always used to talk about your white moonlight. So it turns out your white moonlight became your wife? No wonder you rejected everyone who tried to chase you at the company.”

Yan Qingruo was utterly speechless.

Yet her mind, unbidden, drifted to the lake breeze, the fluttering pigeons in the square, and the pale, delicate face of that woman. Her thoughts blurred and tangled.

Just then, Yan Qingruo’s phone buzzed. A message from Jin Yunxi: About that money you mentioned before—I’d like to talk again.

Yan Qingruo’s heart gave a jolt. Was she going back on her word?

Ever since that incident, Yan Qingruo’s mother had fallen ill, both body and mind in need of treatment. She was abroad now, still requiring an enormous sum for ongoing care. Otherwise, Yan Qingruo never would have… Even if…

Yan Qingruo pulled herself back from her spiraling thoughts and said lightly to Lu Ge, “White moonlight or not, it can’t be exchanged for money.”

Lu Ge knew about her mother’s condition. She sighed, then pried gently for more details.

Yan Qingruo shared only part of the truth, hiding Jin Yunxi’s name, telling just enough to explain her worries.

“That person’s awful,” Lu Ge burst out. “Totally unreliable!”

…

“You know,” Lu Ge went on, “I still don’t get how our Secretary Jin Junxi can think so fast, handling international affairs like it’s nothing.”

“Mm. She’s impressive,” Yan Qingruo murmured perfunctorily.

Theirs was nothing more than a transaction. Pretending to be her sister, putting on shows, being graded for her performance—Jin Yunxi never made it easy.

Yan Qingruo’s mind circled back to that fifty-million figure. She picked up one of Jin Yunxi’s favorite dishes from the shelf—then set it back down. Why should she care what that woman ate? All the meals she’d cooked before had never suited her taste anyway.

Even Yan Qingruo’s polished table manners felt staged, like everything else. Yan Qingruo couldn’t tell whether it was genuine or just part of the act.

Forget it. If it was all performance, then what was real or fake hardly mattered.

Yan Qingruo’s thoughts drifted—then suddenly, a man came barreling toward her, face twisted, something glinting in his hand.

Noise erupted at the supermarket entrance. Before they could react, someone shouted:

“Stop him! Don’t let him get away!” someone shouted.

“He’s up to something shady!”

The man, seeing more pursuers close in, raised his hand and drove the object straight toward Yan Qingruo’s neck.

At once, a heady, intoxicating scent spread through the air.

Lu Ge’s face went pale. She shouted at the thief, but beside her, Yan Qingruo was already swaying.

Lu Ge: “Qingruo! Are you alright?”

Yan Qingruo’s brows pinched tight. She tried to reassure Lu Ge, but her legs buckled, her body swaying like a fragile blossom in the wind.

A gunshot cracked through the chaos, shattering the air, piercing the eardrums.

The crowd panicked. Screams and cries overlapped, people shoving and running for cover.

“Qingruo!” Lu Ge reached for her, but the stampede wrenched them apart.

Yan Qingruo’s vision blurred. Her body tipped forward, collapsing into a warm embrace. Through her haze, her gaze locked onto a pair of deep, phoenix eyes.

Yan Qingruo tried to lift her hand. Someone caught it firmly.

“Hold on.”

Yan Qingruo’s eyelids grew unbearably heavy. Who… who came to save me?

A voice rang out above her:

“Yan Qingruo, if you still want that fifty million, then don’t you dare fall asleep.”

That venomous, shameless mouth—she knew exactly who it was. Ha.

Infuriated, Yan Qingruo fainted.

…

Fifteen minutes earlier, Jin Yunxi had answered the butler’s urgent call. Her calm expression cracked for the first time.

“Miss Jin, terrible news! Madam’s been attacked at the supermarket—her condition is critical!”

Jin Yunxi shot to her feet. The movement was so abrupt her chair clattered over.

She didn’t pause—snatching her coat, bracing her cane, she headed straight out.

“What happened?” Jin Yunhan, overhearing Yan Qingruo’s name and catching sight of her sister’s reaction, felt a shadow pass over her expression.

Moments later, a convoy of luxury cars screeched to a halt outside the supermarket.

As Jin Yunxi stepped out, a squad of trained bodyguards fanned out instantly, forming a solid wall around the entrance.

The sight made the onlookers fall silent. Then, as whispers spread, the air buzzed with speculation.

Jin Yunxi walked forward, steady and unhurried, her slim frame wrapped in a silver-gray coat. A string of fractured-pattern prayer beads slid across her pale wrist with each movement.

Jin Yunxi’s gaze was sharp as a blade. She swept the crowd once, her voice clear and cutting through the noise:

“Move.”

Just one syllable—but it carried undeniable authority. The crowd parted instinctively, opening a path.

Heads bowed, then lifted again to sneak glances at her. Amid the tension, curiosity surged:

Law enforcement hadn’t even arrived yet, but the Secretary-General herself had rushed into danger.

Was there really someone inside the supermarket… more important than the Queen herself?