After Rebirth, My Archrival Omega Looks at Me Differently - Chapter 52

The hospital room, which had just been full of laughter, suddenly fell silent.

Wang Chuning and Zhong Yi were completely stunned by Yan Youqing’s unexpected confession.

No matter how they thought about it, they could never have imagined that someone like Yan Youqing, the strict and disciplined head of the student committee, would say something like that so openly.

She had always seemed so serious, the kind of person who followed every school rule without exception, even making sure to zip her uniform all the way to the collar. And yet, here she was, breaking her own rules and going against everything she had stood for, just for the sake of being with Chi Yan.

Chi Yan could feel her friends’ eyes fixed on her. For some reason, she started to feel a bit shy.

She rubbed her nose awkwardly and broke the silence, trying to ease the mood.

“Alright, enough staring. Can I have a little privacy, please?”

She quickly changed the subject.

“I really shouldn’t have kept this from you. Let me make it up to you with a week of free milk tea. Is that okay?”

But of course, that wasn’t enough to distract Wang Chuning or Zhong Yi.

Wang Chuning looked closely at Chi Yan and suddenly grinned, as if something had just clicked in her mind.

“Yan Jie, why are your ears turning red?”

Chi Yan’s heart jumped. She instinctively reached up to pull her hair over her burning ears.

Zhong Yi had already caught on and leaned in with a playful smile.

“Are you blushing?”

“I am not!” Chi Yan snapped, clearly flustered. She tried to squeeze past the two of them and escape their teasing.

But she looked more like a puffed-up cat than a threat.

Zhong Yi ran after her, refusing to let her go.

“Let me see. Come on, let me see. I never thought I’d see you like this.”

Outside the room, the quiet hallway still smelled faintly of disinfectant. No one could have guessed that behind this door, a group of girls were laughing and teasing each other as if they had nothing to worry about.

They played and joked, their laughter echoing softly, as if pain and separation had never touched this place.

Now that their classmates knew about her relationship with Yan Youqing, Chi Yan no longer tried to hide it.

The sun was setting, painting the sky above the school gates in warm orange tones.

With everyone watching, Chi Yan carried Yan Youqing away from the campus.

Although it was only the start of summer, the wind already carried a hint of warmth.

Yan Youqing’s long hair, usually pinned neatly behind her ear, was lifted by the wind and scattered loosely around her shoulders.

She looked at the girl in front of her, watching the familiar school buildings fade into the background.

Her bandaged wrist was wrapped around Chi Yan’s waist, the blue and white school uniform between them. The gesture broke every rule they had followed, but it felt just right.

Yan Youqing didn’t want to let go. She didn’t want to look away either.

The sound of bicycle bells rang through the crowd. In those small, clear chimes was the bold energy of young love, a kind of open affection that made people smile and admire it from afar.

The sun was slowly sinking at the edge of the river.

Chi Yan rode until they reached the bridge where they usually said goodbye after school.

Today, the car from Yan Youqing’s family had arrived early. It was already parked near the riverbank, black and still in the distance.

Chi Yan gave a few last reminders about Yan Youqing’s wrist, then steadied the bike and prepared to leave.

But before she could get back on, she heard her name called from behind.

“Chi Yan.”

Yan Youqing stood at the edge of the wind. The breeze from the river tousled her hair.

Maybe it was the sunset, but her eyes looked softer than usual, their color a little lighter, touched by the golden light.

Chi Yan turned back, feeling a little unsure.

It seemed like Yan Youqing had something more to say, but instead she simply asked, as if confirming something they both already knew.

“Video call at eight?”

Chi Yan nodded. “Of course. I’ll be there at eight.”

A small smile appeared on Yan Youqing’s lips. Her voice was gentle and quiet.

“I’ll wait for you.”

Still worried about her father, Chi Yan rode home as fast as she could.

The sparrows resting in the trees beside their old building were startled by her sudden arrival. They flew off, flapping their wings and chirping loudly.

Chi Yan didn’t have time to care. She parked her bike quickly and ran upstairs to the fourth floor.

As soon as she unlocked the door, she called out without hesitation.

“Dad, I’m home.”

But the house, filled with the warm light of sunset, remained completely silent.

On the living room table were the exercise books she had been asking her father for all week. On top of them, a small receipt had been turned over. In neat, familiar handwriting, a message was written:

“Uncle Chen had an emergency. I went to cover his shift. I bought all the books. Dinner is ready. Just reheat it.”

Chi Yan stared at the note, and her heart suddenly dropped.

The ticking clock in the room grew louder. Each second felt like a heavy weight pressing down on her chest.

She threw her school bag to the floor, grabbed the research institute’s spare keycard from the entryway, and ran out the door.

The old brick building didn’t block much sound. Every family’s dinner preparation mixed together in the dim stairwell. Her footsteps were drowned out by the noise of sizzling pans and clinking dishes.

The fences around the Life Sciences Institute were covered in blooming roses, pink and white blossoms climbing high and full.

It was May again.

Chi Yan arrived at the laboratory building where her father worked. A bulletin board out front displayed the institute’s latest news.

But in this moment, she didn’t care.

She didn’t even bother to find a proper place to park her bike. She left it leaning against a flowerbed. The overgrown shrubs creaked under the weight, leaves rustling in protest.

But that small sound meant nothing compared to what came next.

A loud alarm suddenly rang out from inside the building.

The sound she had buried in her memory came crashing back. It was sharp, real, and deafening.

Chi Yan stood frozen for a moment as the lab doors burst open. Shouts filled the air. People rushed out in a panic.

She watched them, frozen, before stepping forward.

This was the step she had dreamed of taking for years.

All around her, people were running. Everyone was trying to escape.

Papers full of research data scattered across the floor. Clean white sheets were trampled, stained with footprints.

Chi Yan pushed against the current, weaving through the fleeing crowd, heading straight toward the source of the alarm.

Then, suddenly, a hand grabbed her.

“Yan Yan?”

It was a female Alpha, someone from Chi Xufeng’s research team.

Chi Yan had seen her a few times before.

Without hesitation, she asked, “Sister, where is my dad?”

“The professor is still transmitting data. He’ll be out any moment. Come with me quickly,” the lab member said urgently, reaching out to pull Chi Yan along.

But before she could finish her sentence, Chi Yan had already shaken off her hand and walked forward with stubborn determination.

Chi Yan knew that “any moment” was a lie.

Ten years ago, they had told her the same thing. They had pulled her out of Chi Xufeng’s office and taken her away.

Since then, night after night, she had wondered how different things might have been if she hadn’t listened, if she had stayed.

She had never been someone who followed orders blindly.

And she never should have left her father behind.

The initial explosion in the lab was just the beginning. The deadlier, more devastating blast—the one that would cause fatal damage—was still twenty minutes away.

There was still time.

She still had a chance.

She could not lose him again.

She should have spent the day by his side, doing nothing else.

Frustration and regret twisted inside her. The emotions burned in her chest and filled her eyes with a painful intensity.

“Yan Yan!” someone called out desperately behind her.

But the voice grew fainter and fainter, just like the corridor behind her, slowly emptying out into silence.

Chi Yan’s lab was the same one that had once belonged to Chi Xufeng. The passcode was still the same one he had always used.

It was her mother’s birthday.

The explosion had not damaged the building’s main circuits. With the loud wail of the emergency alarm ringing in her ears, the laboratory door slowly slid open.

Chi Yan did not have time to feel relief.

The moment she stepped inside, her breath caught in her throat.

The once orderly space was now in chaos. A massive storage cabinet had collapsed onto the ground. And underneath it was the person she had sworn to save—Chi Xufeng.

“Dad!” Chi Yan rushed to his side, panic overtaking her as she dropped to her knees, trying to wake him.

By some miracle, Chi Xufeng stirred. He lifted his head slightly at the sound of her voice, clearly dazed and disoriented.

His head throbbed from the impact, his thoughts sluggish. But when he saw the girl beside him, his daughter, he finally understood what was happening.

His eyes widened in shock. His voice was faint and weak.

“Yan Yan… why are you here…”

Chi Yan’s heart twisted sharply at the sound of his voice. Her emotions spilled out.

“I told you not to come today! Why didn’t you listen to me?”

Chi Xufeng forced a weak smile.

“If I hadn’t come, we would have lost all the data… This research could save thousands of Betas, just like your mother…”

Of course Chi Yan knew what he meant. She understood better than anyone. But her perspective had changed.

She had lived ten years of grief, ten years of separation. Those years had taught her the true value of having her father beside her. More than anything, she wanted to change the fate that had once taken him away.

“Data, data. Is it really that important? More important than me? Do you know how much I missed you in this world all by myself?”

Her voice cracked. She had not meant to raise it, but she could not help it.

Chi Xufeng looked at the girl struggling to lift the heavy cabinet off him. The smile on his face faded.

She was no longer the weak Beta child he once remembered. She was now an S-Class Alpha. The cabinet that would have been impossible for her to move before, she now pushed with all her strength.

With a loud crash, it fell to the side.

She barely had time to catch her breath. Glancing at her watch, she quickly knelt to support her father.

There was still hope. It flickered like the overhead light above them.

But then the light crackled.

With a loud pop, the fluorescent bulb burst overhead.

Just as Chi Yan got her father upright and was about to lift him onto her back, more lights began to shatter.

One bulb, then another.

Shards of glass rained down, and in the next moment, the second explosion hit. It started with a surge in the current and rushed through the building from far away.

The lab shook violently.

Chi Yan could barely stay on her feet. She wobbled, wrapping herself around Chi Xufeng to shield him as best she could.

She did not notice the broken light fixture crashing down above her.

It struck her head with a heavy thud. She gasped from the pain, clenching her fists tightly.

She felt the pain, sharp and deep. But she could not let her father know.

Still, he sensed it anyway.

He looked up through the flickering shadows and saw the strain on her face.

“Yan Yan… did you get hurt?” he asked in a trembling voice.

“No,” Chi Yan answered firmly.

But the moment the words left her lips, a warm line of blood traced down her forehead.

Red filled her vision, the pain growing stronger. The dizziness became overwhelming.

Some moments make the bond between a parent and child feel painfully real.

Chi Xufeng, barely conscious, reached out to push her away.

“My good girl… don’t worry about me. You need to go… please…”

Chi Yan shook her head.

The aftershocks began to settle, and she tried once again to lift him. Her legs trembled, and she fell to her knees beside him.

Just then, the sound of a door opening echoed through the ruined lab.

Light poured in from the hallway.

Chi Yan looked toward it, her vision blurred by blood, and saw something unexpected.

A figure stood framed in the doorway. Their silhouette was outlined by the light. The scent in the air carried the familiar trace of salt and morning dew.

That figure began walking toward her.

And in that moment of blurred sight and confusion, memories from a past life surged to the surface.

The missing piece, the one she had never found in all these years, finally clicked into place.

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