After Mistakenly Marking My Ex’s Older Sister, the Disabled Alpha Stood Up - Chapter 77.1 END

“Your Majesty~”

The Alpha’s voice lingered, soft and sticky, like honey that clung and refused to let go.

The word “Get out” was still hovering on Lin Ruxi’s lips when her protest was crushed beneath an even fiercer advance.

Teeth grazed over the Queen’s flushed waistline, each kiss and suckle a blatant declaration of sovereignty.

“Your Majesty, from now on, every drop of water you drink will be mine. Every moment of your pleasure—let me be the one to give it to you. Will you?”

Just a moment ago, she had only claimed tonight.

Now she was shamelessly demanding all the days to come.

She even pressed harder on the words from now on, teeth tracing her collarbone, branding her fevered skin with heat and breath.

The greedy Alpha burrowed deeper, refusing to relent without an answer, her persistence relentless, her rhythm steady and unyielding.

The more she devoured, the more insatiable her hunger grew. Never satisfied, never enough—she longed to claim every curve, every inch of the Queen’s beauty, to keep it all for herself.

Lin Ruxi’s jade-green eyes shimmered with watery light. Her slender fingertips dug into the Alpha’s narrow waist.

“Just you?”

This overreaching little pup.

Jin Yunhan arched a brow. What, was one not enough? Did her Queen still want two… three…?

Impossible.

But Lin Ruxi’s retort soon dissolved into broken gasps as the movement deepened.

________________________________________

In the end, the Alpha left her Queen suspended, neither ascending nor descending, refusing to stop until she gave an answer. Mist pooled in Lin Ruxi’s eyes; her fingers tightened around the Alpha’s neck.

“We’ll see… mmh… we’ll see if you can please me enough to win this king’s favor.”

“Got it.”

With dawn breaking and a promise finally secured, Jin Yunhan threw herself into the task with renewed vigor.

________________________________________

Three days later.

When Jin Yunxi dialed her sister’s number for the nth time, all she got was a busy tone. Later, the phone was simply switched off.

When she finally reached Yunhan, the only reply she got was: I’m busy. Working. Jie, don’t contact me for now.

Jin Yunxi pressed her lips together. Too busy to even touch her phone? Not even a WeChat message?

When she asked what kind of work her sister was doing, Yunhan wouldn’t say.

“What on earth is she up to?” Jin Yunxi’s knife and fork clattered against her plate. “I’ve never seen her work this hard.”

Three days straight. Unheard of.

And who in the palace was keeping her?

Yan Qingruo soothed her gently. “Maybe the Queen asked her to stay. Yunhan probably couldn’t refuse.”

Jin Yunxi’s lips twisted. “Not necessarily.” Why did it feel like Yunhan was enjoying herself far too much?

The image of her always-available little sister, forever smiling, forever eager to please, now seemed swallowed whole by the palace, leaving not even a shadow behind.

Before, if she so much as called, Yunhan would appear faster than a rabbit. Now? That little cloud had clearly drifted into someone else’s hand.

The truth nagged at Jin Yunxi, though she didn’t want to admit it. Could Lin Ruxi really let things go so easily?

Or had her sister willingly sacrificed herself—for her sake?

For the first time in her life, Jin Yunxi felt a flicker of worry for Jin Yunhan.

“Mommy! I finished this Lego again!” came her daughter’s proud cry from the playroom.

“Good job.”

Yan Qingruo slid her arms around her waist, lips brushing her ear.

“Ah Yun, today’s our wedding anniversary.”

The Omega’s night-blooming-jasmine pheromones warmed the air, and Jin Yunxi’s ears burned. She turned and kissed her wife’s lips, only to be ensnared by her like a sinuous snake, the kiss deepening until neither could breathe.

“Ah Yun, let’s not think about anyone else, okay?” Yan Qingruo whispered, lips still damp, her eyes shining with possessiveness. She cupped Jin Yunxi’s face firmly. “No one. Not even your sister.”

Jin Yunxi let go of her worry for Yunhan. With her stunning wife beside her, and their daughter at her knee—what moment could be more perfect?

Yet something still felt off.

Recently, Qingruo’s gaze carried a skittishness, a guilty flicker she couldn’t hide.

Ever since their reconciliation, beneath her wife’s controlling streak lurked a surprising obedience. Positions and intimacies she once blushed to attempt, she now yielded to easily. Too easily. To the point of unease.

Like now—her fingertips digging into Jin Yunxi’s back, silk straps slipping from her shoulder as they tangled together.

She loved closeness, but now wasn’t the right time.

…

Breath fragrant, kisses peppering her neck, Jin Yunxi bit her lip, forced her eyes open.

“No. Our daughter’s right in the next room.”

These days, she paid closer attention to little Xining’s upbringing—always considering her feelings first.

In the mirror, Qingruo’s lashes lowered, hiding a flash of tension.

“Then let’s go to the bedroom.” Her hand brushed her lower belly. Lately, her special cycle had left her hungrier than ever for Jin Yunxi’s pheromones.

Her voice trembled as her nails pressed into Yunxi’s waist.

But when Jin Yunxi rolled over, her fingers brushed Qingruo’s wrist—and the faint indent of a binding strap.

Memory snapped back: last week, she’d come home late from overtime and found Qingruo staring at her phone’s screensaver—an old photo of Jin Yunxi from college, overlaid with the words Belongs to me.

“What’s on your mind lately?” she asked suddenly, lips grazing her wife’s collarbone.

Qingruo’s body stiffened instantly. Yunxi bit her ear lightly.

“Want me to clear your album for you? If you need my photos, I’ll send you as many as you want.”

Qingruo’s eyes filled with sudden tears.

Jin Yunxi had always thought her coldness before had left shadows in Qingruo’s heart. That after reconciling, her wife’s newfound obedience was simply making up for lost ground.

But unease crept between them like vines in the dark.

One night, she’d told Qingruo to go to bed early when she was working late. Yet when she returned, Qingruo was curled on the sofa under the orange lamp.

She leaned down, kissed her cheek—only to find her “asleep” wife trembling, nails faintly biting into her skin, face buried stubbornly into her neck.

“Ah Yun, don’t stay away too long, okay?” came the barely audible whisper.

Another night, she came home tipsy from entertaining young clients, even bumping into Lu Ge on the way.

Back home, Qingruo sat alone on the bed, arms crossed, palm absently stroking her stomach.

“Are you on your period?” Yunxi asked, laying her hand on her wife’s belly—only to see her jolt away.

“No.” Qingruo distanced herself subtly.

“Then why aren’t you in bed?”

Qingruo suddenly looked up, eyes rimmed red, soft and fragile.

“I just missed you too much.”

But beneath her hair, the edge of her phone screen glowed faintly—the unmistakable icon of a tracking app.

Sharp as she was, Jin Yunxi could hardly miss it.

So she simply held Qingruo close, even letting her keep her location access—if that was what it took to ease her fears.

But the unease fermented like yeast, and finally burst one evening at the dinner table.

The atmosphere had been warm. Xining chirped like a little bird, filling the room with laughter. Then Qingruo, almost casually, said:

“Ah Yun, should we give her a little sister?”

The question fluttered in like a trembling butterfly’s wings, light but weighted.

Jin Yunxi remained poised, cradling Xining gently.

“There’s no need. One child is enough.”

Xining, still too young to understand, chimed in adorably:

“Mommy, I don’t want a sister either! I just want Mommy and Mama with me, forever. You’re mine, just mine.”

Yunxi stroked her daughter’s head fondly. “We’ll listen to you, sweetheart.” Then she turned to her wife, gaze steady and sincere.

“Don’t worry. I’m always careful. We won’t have a second child.”

Privately, she’d even begun considering a small surgery—just to be sure.

After saying those words, Jin Yunxi didn’t notice how Yan Qingruo’s face had suddenly turned deathly pale, nor the flicker of panic that flashed in her eyes.

Night had deepened, and moonlight filtered dimly through the gauzy curtains. Instinctively, Yan Qingruo clutched her thin nightgown tighter, as though clinging to the last trace of warmth, and nestled into the Alpha’s embrace.

I’m sorry, Ah Yun. In the end, it was I who broke our promise.

The following night, after their baths, they slipped into bed one after the other. Jin Yunxi turned onto her side, her gaze carrying a quiet expectancy as she slipped an arm around Yan Qingruo’s waist and asked softly, almost pleadingly:
“Baby, tonight… I want to be with you…”

“Sorry, Ah Yun. I’m a little tired today.”

Gently, Yan Qingruo freed herself from Jin Yunxi’s hold and turned away, leaving her back facing her.

Jin Yunxi pressed her lips together. A strange feeling welled in her chest—part doubt, part disappointment. She leaned closer again, whispering:

“Wife… is it something I did wrong?”

Yan Qingruo hesitated for a moment, then answered in a trembling voice, “No.”

You did everything right… and yet, that’s what makes it wrong.

In the end, Jin Yunxi chose to respect her. She only pulled the woman tightly back into her arms, clinging with faint unease, and let sleep overtake her in the fragile comfort of holding her close.

At dawn, her hand reached out by habit to the other side of the bed—only to touch cold emptiness. Alarm jolted her fully awake. A heartbeat later, she heard their child’s voice outside, calling for her mother.

“Mommy, where’s Mama?” Though the nanny was there, the little one had woken from a nightmare and instinctively sought Yan Qingruo’s comfort.

Slipping hastily into her slippers, Jin Yunxi searched the rooms in panic, but Yan Qingruo was nowhere to be found.

Then she spotted the letter by the window, fallen to the floor by the wind. The first words struck like ice: “I’m sorry, Ah Yun.”

Her pupils constricted sharply as she read the long letter explaining everything. In the end, she pressed the paper tightly to her chest, whispering through clenched teeth:

“Yan Qingruo… you fool.”

________________________________________

On the plane bound for a foreign land, Yan Qingruo sat by the window, her gaze vacant, her heart hollow. The wings cut through the clouds outside, as if tearing her chest open as well.

She never wanted to leave Jin Yunxi. But the thought of even the slightest trace of disgust in Jin Yunxi’s eyes was unbearable—she could not survive a second rejection.

Her thoughts drifted back, unbidden, to that night she had shared a bed with the amnesiac “Ah Lai.” That night, she had been “shameless,” selfish. She had never asked whether the small life in her belly wished to be born, nor whether Jin Yunxi wanted a second child.

Back when Jin Yunxi was still “Ah Lai,” simple-minded and not yet in love with her, she had selfishly taken advantage, lured her, and planted the seed. She thought—once wouldn’t matter, it was unlikely she’d conceive. Even after they reconciled, she clung to that faint hope. But fate is cruel—she conceived from that single night.

She could still hear Jin Yunxi’s words whispered after their reconciliation, words that struck her now like a hammer blow:

“Yan Qingruo, as long as you never lie to me, never try to use me, I’ll never leave you again.”

The moment she learned she was pregnant, panic seized her. She knew she had used this second child—used blood ties—to bind Jin Yunxi’s fragile, wavering love to herself. She had used “Ah Lai”… and she had used the woman she loved most.

Once, she would wait every day for Jin Yunxi to come home, anxiety growing whenever she heard rumors of her drinking with other women. Pregnancy had only magnified that insecurity. And when Jin Yunxi spoke of not wanting a second child, even consulting their daughter for her opinion, Yan Qingruo remembered—Jin Yunxi had once resisted even having their first child.

Her Ah Yun had never liked children. She only accepted little Xining because of her love for Yan Qingruo.

Would she accept the child now growing inside her?

She didn’t know. She also didn’t know that Jin Yunxi was scouring the world for her, turning Yatran upside down, sending people to search every foreign corner she had ever set foot in.

________________________________________

In a small Nordic town, Yan Qingruo sat curled up by the fireplace, her hand on her three-month belly, the knit sweater stretched taut over the small swell. Her fingers stilled suddenly as she caught a news crawl on the television:

“Secretary-General Jin’s condition deteriorating—speculation of collapsed negotiations or personal crisis…”

Snowflakes tapped against the frosted glass, blurring the screen. Her pregnancy left her body quietly yearning for the Alpha’s pheromones, for the cedar scent she missed so much.

She hugged the blanket close, inhaling faint traces of Jin Yunxi’s scent clinging there. It warmed her heart, even as it ached.

The little town was quiet. Yan Qingruo, moving a little clumsily with her pregnancy, carefully selected baby supplies in a small shop.

The sudden clatter of the iron shutter made her jump.

“Sorry, we’re closing,” the shopkeeper stammered, though in truth, it was the sight outside that startled him—

A crimson carpet unfurled from the lead car all the way to her feet. Female bodyguards in black uniforms lined both sides, bowing deeply. At the head, Jin Fan spoke respectfully:

“Madam, the President asks you and the baby to come home.”

Yan Qingruo bit her lip, hesitating. She took a step forward, her skirt brushing the steps, and the carpet rippled like something alive, rolling out always just beneath her toes.

Car after car lined the street, endless, each flanked by guards who bowed and opened the door in unison, repeating the same words:

“Madam, the President asks you and the baby to come home.”

At the fifty-second car, the door opened—and there she was.

Jin Yunxi stepped out, cradling a bouquet of white roses still beaded with morning dew, her hair dusted with frost from travel.

“Wife… come home with me, will you?” Her voice was soft enough to melt the winter dawn.

Yan Qingruo’s eyes burned. “You… you’re not angry with me?”

“I should be angry with myself.” Jin Yunxi knelt on one knee, burying her face against the curve of her belly, her warm breath trembling through the fabric. “Angry that I didn’t make you understand—any child of ours will always be my treasure.”

She pressed Yan Qingruo’s trembling hand against her chest. “Xining’s still young—she’ll love having a little sister.”

A sister for the sister, so neither will ever be alone.

“Wife, how little faith you have in me… how little faith in yourself.”

“Even your lack of confidence—that’s on me. It’s my fault you never felt safe enough.”

Yan Qingruo’s tears finally broke free. Pregnancy had left her emotions raw; in this foreign land, facing life alone, she had hidden her sorrow and longing for too long. Now, with her love before her, everything spilled over.

She lifted her fists to Jin Yunxi’s shoulder, pounding lightly, half-sobbing, half-pouting:

“All your fault—all your fault!”

“Yes, it’s my fault. My fault for never saying things clearly enough.” Jin Yunxi caught her hand, interlacing their fingers, her gaze brimming with tenderness and ache.

On the flight back, Yan Qingruo leaned in her arms. It was their second time flying back to Yatran together, yet her heart was entirely different now.

Jin Yunxi gently unfastened her coat, her fingertips brushing faint stretch marks. She thought of the foreign hospital, of Yan Qingruo sitting alone before the ultrasound screen. “Back then, when you had Xining overseas by yourself, I already hated myself for not being there. I even envied Shu Xiyue for being able to stay by your side. And now, again—you’re alone, in some far-off place. How could I ever rest easy?”

“Ah Yun, thank you—for coming after me twice, for never letting me go, for never forgetting me.”

And how could she ever let go of the woman she loved?

Shyly, she nipped at Jin Yunxi’s ear, whispering, “Wife… I like you so much.”

“Just like?” Jin Yunxi chuckled. And at the moment the plane broke through the clouds, she heard the woman murmur hot against her ear those five words.

“Wife, I love you too.” She sealed the promise with a kiss.

________________________________________

A month after their return, Song Mei called, asking to come to Yatran to take care of her. Instinctively, Yan Qingruo glanced toward the kitchen, where Jin Yunxi was simmering bird’s nest. Her leg still ached on rainy days, sharper than any weather forecast. The doctor warned that if the pain persisted, she might need joint replacement surgery. The thought pained Yan Qingruo.

“Don’t make things harder on yourself,” Jin Yunxi murmured from behind, warm palm covering her cold hand. “The past should have been laid to rest long ago.”

Burying her face against her chest, Yan Qingruo whispered thickly, “But I still ache for you. Ah Yun… I’m sorry you had to suffer so much.”

“If not for all that, we might never have found our way to each other.” Since falling in love with her, Jin Yunxi had learned to see everything in a brighter light.