After My Fiancée Failed to Pretend to Be an Alpha - Chapter 44

Tang Cheng stared for a long moment before finally whispering, dazed, “Beautiful.”

The joy was indescribable. She stepped forward, embracing the woman before her. In her arms was warmth, softness—Lu Xinxue resting her head lightly on Tang Cheng’s shoulder.

Skin against skin, an intimacy they hadn’t shared in years.

Lu Xinxue asked softly, “Working late tonight?”

“Yes. But today I met someone unexpected.”

She slipped off her heels, her height dropping, eyes lifting to meet Tang Cheng’s. Curiosity flickered there, though fatigue lingered beneath.

Tang Cheng steadied her by the waist, afraid she might stumble.

“Do you remember the Alpha we met at A University? Wu Lan.”

Lu Xinxue’s hand paused on Tang Cheng’s shoulder. “She came to the company?”

Tang Cheng hesitated. The word sister stuck in her throat. “She has some blood relation to me.”

Lu Xinxue understood. The Tang family’s indulgences were no secret. An illegitimate daughter was hardly surprising. But why seek out Tang Cheng, that was what mattered.

“She asked if I’d keep working in mechanics.”

“Your little fan?”

Lu Xinxue recalled the girl’s eyes at A University—hopeful, expectant. It made sense.

“Not exactly. Her mother wanted her to follow my path, step by step.”

“And what do you think?” Lu Xinxue touched Tang Cheng’s face, gaze intent. She cared less about Wu Lan than about Tang Cheng’s feelings.

“Pity she wasn’t as lucky as me. Heaven only let me meet you.”

“And how did you answer?”

“I told her, we’ll meet in the future.”

Lu Xinxue froze, recognizing the words. That was what she herself had once said, when they parted for the academy after differentiation.

A sudden smile curved her lips. “After all this time, you still remember.”

“I’ve never forgotten anything you’ve said to me.”

“You used my words on someone else?” Her brows arched, teasing.

“No. You spoke them as love. I spoke them as encouragement. You know the difference.”

Her phone buzzed. She glanced down. Midnight reminder: September 9, 2138.

Tang Cheng asked carefully, “Six years?”

Lu Xinxue shook her head. “One year.”

One year. The warm light above suddenly felt sharp. Tang Cheng’s eyes stung—half with tears, half with laughter.

“Happy anniversary.”

Their gazes locked. Tang Cheng leaned in, brushing a kiss against her lips.

Breath mingled, sticky and unbroken. Her hand tightened at Lu Xinxue’s waist, pulling her closer.

A sharp nip at her lip made her flinch. She met Lu Xinxue’s eyes, sheepish.

Still possessive. Lu Xinxue’s gaze gleamed with pride. What was hers would always remain hers—even if discarded, it could never belong to another. “She’s only a sister.”

“So, I forgive you.”

“Dinner at home tonight?”

Lu Xinxue nodded.

Tang Cheng tidied the downstairs, calming her racing heart, hiding her excitement so as not to alert her.

The next day, Tang Cheng rushed to her desk, eager to prepare Lu Xinxue’s gift.

Equipment checks, data programming—her fingers flew across the keyboard all morning.

“What are you doing?”

Yu Xia’an appeared with two coffees, setting one on her desk, sipping the other, trying to decipher the data.

“Work.”

Tang Cheng took the cup, warm against her hand, sipped the bitter taste.

“I want to take the afternoon off. Don’t tell the president.”

She leaned back, eyes meeting Yu Xia’an’s.

“Book data?”

Yu Xia’an perched on her desk, peering down. “And you’re using company time for this?”

“All for the president.” Tang Cheng grinned shamelessly.

“Hopeless romantic.”

“You’re just jealous.”

They bantered. Yu Xia’an shook her head. “Fine. Leave early. Things aren’t busy.”

Permission granted, Tang Cheng finished her last analysis, then left, triumphant.

Xie Chensong sat gloomily with his coffee, glaring at the culprit absorbed in her screen. “If your girlfriend paid my salary, I’d let you go too. But first, you’d need a girlfriend.”

She didn’t even look up.

Tang Cheng drove home, catching the last ease before rush hour. The system only needed syncing with the books. Soon, every volume would carry its own ticking sound.

Data transferred, connected. Perfect. She filtered, searched, pinpointed. Upstairs, faint clicks echoed.

Outside, the sunset glowed red.

Satisfied, she smiled, climbed upstairs, and tightened the final spring.

The study still carried a trace of thyme. On the desk lay Lu Xinxue’s files.

She went downstairs to prepare dinner.

She replaced the old flowers from Lu Fei’s estate with fresh tulips, arranging them neatly in a vase.

The perfect engagement felt like yesterday. The night before, she and Lu Xinxue had stayed awake, gazing at each other, speaking of their past, sharing their most intimate bond.

But time had rushed on. In those lost moments of unconsciousness, she had wandered a desolate world, wind cold against her face, powerless. It felt like centuries. Yet she had returned.

Tang Cheng’s thoughts wandered, and pain snapped her back, a knife had nicked her right index finger. She hurried to the sink, rinsing away the blood.

Clear water met crimson, swirling down the drain. Watching the vivid beads spill from her skin, she felt a jolt of recognition: she was real, alive, undeniably human.

She swallowed hard. How had she ever let herself imagine otherwise?

When the bleeding slowed, she set the knife aside and reached for the medicine box.

Her phone buzzed. A message, Lu Xinxue would be home soon. She had just told her she’d return early, and already there was a reply.

“Tang Siyuan returns in two days. The shareholders’ meeting is set for the afternoon.”

It was from Tang Qinggu. Tang Cheng understood instantly. The silent war had begun. She had promised to stand with Tang Qinggu—there was no turning back. Though she had never formally attended such a meeting, she knew the rules.

The door opened.

Lu Xinxue entered in formal dress, amused at the sight of Tang Cheng in an apron, phone in hand.

So, when had she started preparing surprises behind her back? Her gaze fell on the unfamiliar tablet on the table.

“I remember you weren’t one for surprises.”

She closed the door, shedding fatigue, approaching the table. To her, it looked ordinary.

“People grow.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Your hand?”

“It’s nothing. I cut myself while cooking.” Tang Cheng lifted the tablet, offering it. “What book are you reading lately?”

“The Story of Economics.”

Tang Cheng typed the title. From the corner bookshelf came a faint click of gears. Lu Xinxue’s eyes widened, delight flickering. She followed the sound, found the book. Its spine ticked steadily, gear embedded, marking its place.

“You marked every book?”

“Yes. My knowledge of your tastes may be outdated, but you often misplace books. I made this for you to help.”

Tang Cheng bit her lip, nervous. Would she like it? Efficiency mattered to her, so surely, she wouldn’t refuse.

“Thank you, Ah Cheng.” Lu Xinxue accepted the tablet, eyes shining. “This is the best gift I’ve ever received.”

Like the scarf she once received as a child—clumsy, but cherished. Tang Cheng’s love had always been awkward, yet it was the only living water in her parched life.

Memories stirred. Raised by her grandmother, Lu Xinxue had learned sternness, iron methods. Until Tang Cheng. With her, she could relax, smile like a child, let emotions flow. Until Tang Cheng vanished, leaving her world gray.

Tang Cheng was her only love, the only one who truly loved her.

They were lovers across time, unseen by witnesses. On the day of their engagement, she lost her. No one knew.

The days after blurred. She searched desperately for proof Tang Cheng had existed. She had no gift for loving. Her world replaced old things with new, erasing traces of their life together.

But Tang Cheng had left marks—in the old estate, in her room. Proof of love remained.

Time, once frozen, ticked again like the gears of the device. Her Tang Cheng was still waiting.

“I have a gift for you too.”

Clutching the tablet, Lu Xinxue freed one hand, pulling Tang Cheng upstairs.

Her fingers trembled, mind lagging behind her body. She followed into the room she hadn’t entered since returning.

Lu Xinxue released her hand, reaching for the door. Tang Cheng stopped her. “You can’t send me back to my own room.”

“Alright.” Lu Xinxue laughed softly, opening the door.

The room was clean, everything carefully placed. Familiar—her home for over a decade. The narrow bed, the wooden workbench, old furniture preserved despite newer replacements.

Lu Xinxue, who always favored the new, had kept this last patch of old soil.

Tang Cheng stepped inside. On the rack hung a cheap scarf, worn and pilled, the first gift she had given at seven, bought with pocket change.

On the workbench lay her old textbooks, pages holding yellowed movie stubs—their first film together. In sealed bags, she had saved every ticket: flights, trips, charms for Lu Xinxue’s safety.

She had once made a frame of preserved flowers, clumsy and disliked, hidden at the bottom of old things.

In a drawer lay a pink notebook, their student IDs pasted inside. Tang Cheng’s long hair, innocent eyes; Lu Xinxue already bearing the poise of a future president.

Photos developed from film, old phones still holding her last message: Wait for me.

Three simple words, costing six years of youth. They had parted, but loved.

Lu Xinxue had found them all, proof of her devotion.

Tang Cheng turned, seeking her.

There she stood, in formal dress, holding a red brocade box. Slim fingers opened it, revealing a shining ring.

Tang Cheng froze. She hadn’t expected this.

“I finally have the chance to put it on you myself.”

It was the engagement ring, never worn at the ceremony she had missed.

Tang Cheng extended her left hand. Lu Xinxue slid the ring onto her finger. The delicate hand now bore a gleaming band.

Her vision blurred. Sunlight hazed. Gentle fingers brushed away her tears.

“Don’t cry, Ah Cheng. I’m here.”