Forced to Become the Female Lead's Beloved Wife [Quick Transmigration] - Chapter 16

“Meow~” The moment the door opened, a snow-white kitten darted forward, its blue eyes darting around as if observing the new visitor.

This unexpected little surprise dispelled the earlier gloom. Wen Yige crouched down and gently stroked the kitten’s fluffy head. Unfazed, the kitten rubbed affectionately against her leg.

She scratched the kitten’s chin with her fingertip, her voice tinged with delight. “Why didn’t you tell me you had a cat?”

The kitten narrowed its eyes, nuzzling into her palm, its white tail swaying back and forth. Wen Yige’s fingers paused, a sudden memory flashing through her mind: back in high school, they used to feed stray cats in the alley near school. One particularly well-behaved kitten had the same white fur and blue eyes as this one.

Li Wancheng bent down, retrieved two pairs of slippers from the shoe cabinet, and replied, “I found Tuantuan near the airport on the day I returned to China. It was starving and barely alive, so I decided to bring it home.”

She lowered her gaze, watching Wen Yige play with the kitten, the corners of her eyes curving into a soft smile.

“I think it must have been fate that brought me to Tuantuan.”

When she first brought Tuantuan home, the kitten was shy and hid under the sofa, refusing to come out. It took her a long time to coax it out with a sausage, and even then, it only cautiously poked its head out, trembling.

Though clearly desperate for the treat, Tuantuan was so afraid that even its paw reached out tentatively, just like someone else she knew.

As evening fell, Wen Yige considered calling Wen Feng to tell him she wouldn’t be home that night. But she realized she’d forgotten to charge her phone, and it had already shut down from low battery. She had no choice but to ask Li Wancheng for a charger.

Li Wancheng, who was making noodles in the kitchen, casually replied that it should be in the nightstand drawer in the bedroom and told her to go look for it there.

After serving the noodles, Li Wancheng waited in the living room for a long time, but Wen Yige didn’t come out. Assuming she hadn’t found the charger, Li Wancheng got up and went to the bedroom to call her. “Yige, did you find the charg—”

The bedroom was brightly lit and eerily silent. Fragments of light scattered across the room like shattered transparent gems, casting a pale pallor over Wen Yige’s face.

The woman sat slumped on the edge of the bed, the nightstand drawer wide open. A tangled charging cable lay quietly inside, leaving an empty space beside it.

That was…

She froze, her gaze locking with the person on the bed, who held the photo frame that should have been tucked away in the drawer.

Wen Yige looked utterly exhausted, like a bird that had flown thousands of miles home only to find its once-warm nest destroyed by a violent storm, leaving it perched helplessly on a bare branch, defeated and forlorn.

“Why did you keep that photo from back then?”

Li Wancheng didn’t know how to answer, so she lowered her head, avoiding Wen Yige’s gaze.

The glass surface of the frame reflected the light, blurring the intertwined figures of two girls. A soft kiss landed on the corner of a lip, the harsh white light mercilessly slicing through, stinging her eyes.

Seeing that the other woman remained silent even now, Wen Yige’s eyes instantly reddened, filled with a mixture of hurt accusation and questioning. “Why won’t you say anything? Why won’t you tell me anything…?”

It was the same as before—vanishing without a word, then barging back into her life just as silently.

“Talk to me! Do you think I’m just a toy? Something you can pick up and discard whenever you please?” Her eyes glistened with tears, the red at the corners of her eyes standing out starkly under the lamplight.

This was the third time she had cried tonight, and the first time Li Wancheng had ever seen her so emotionally exposed in all the years they had known each other.

“No…” Li Wancheng’s voice was hoarse as she stepped forward and pulled Wen Yige into her arms, letting her sob against her chest, fists pounding weakly against her shoulder.

She understood Wen Yige’s pain, her hatred.

So she silently endured her tears, bearing the years of suppressed grievances and resentment, never uttering a word until Wen Yige had finally released her pent-up emotions. Only then did she whisper softly in her ear, revealing her true feelings.

“Yige, I love you.”

The woman in her arms seemed to deflate suddenly, letting out a soft, self-deprecating laugh that was tinged with sorrow.

The obsession that had consumed her for years had been shattered in an instant. Wen Yige couldn’t decide whether to rejoice at the fulfillment of her long-held wish or mourn the way time had eroded her enduring resentment.

Li Wancheng had no idea how Wen Yige had survived those years, how much pain and torment she had endured.

Exhausted, her voice still raspy from crying, Wen Yige spoke weakly, as if she might crumble at the slightest touch. “You say you love me, but where were you when I was at my lowest? Where were you when I needed you most?”

“Five years… You haven’t come back to find me once in these five years. If you truly loved me, why didn’t you ever come back?”

Each question pierced deeper than the last, each one more agonizing.

It felt as if this entire time, it had all been her own one-woman show, as if everything to Li Wancheng was nothing more than a faint, almost nonexistent memory.

Li Wancheng’s breathing grew heavier. Instead of answering Wen Yige’s questions, she spoke on her own, “Three years ago, on September 24th, you won first place in the provincial English speech competition.”

The body in her arms suddenly stiffened, and her forearm was gripped so tightly it hurt. Li Wancheng merely frowned slightly and continued.

“Two winters ago, your heart condition relapsed, and you were rushed to the hospital for emergency treatment.”

Details she hadn’t noticed before now clicked into place. Wen Yige stood frozen, unable to process the information. She vividly remembered that emergency treatment from two winters ago.

It was the closest she had ever come to death. The winter night was already deserted, and the road she was walking was particularly remote. As her consciousness faded, she vaguely saw a blurry figure running toward her.

When she woke up in the hospital, she asked the doctor if they had seen the person who brought her there. The doctor shook his head, explaining that the situation had been too urgent to notice.

So it was her all along?

“On February 13th last year, you got married. It snowed heavily that day.” At this point, the woman seemed to choke up slightly, letting out a soft sigh before continuing, “I stood in the snow, watching him place the diamond ring on your finger and lead you down the red carpet—things I could never openly give you.”

Years ago, Li Rui had used Wen Yige’s future as leverage, forcing her to go abroad. She hadn’t dared gamble with the girl’s future.

Each memory was stripped away, like a rose’s thorny stem grinding relentlessly against her heart. Wen Yige wanted to tell her to stop, but the words caught in her throat, refusing to come out.

The System silently reviewed the world’s timelines. The three dates Li Wancheng had mentioned were all perfectly accurate, yet she had clearly been abroad for the past five years, never returning home.

How could she possibly know all this?

A scalding tear landed on the back of her hand. She heard Li Wancheng softly call her name, her voice filled with unprecedented sorrow and vulnerability.

“There are so many people in this world. I think you’d be just fine even without me.”

“I wanted to be a good observer, as long as you were happy… But I can’t do it, Yige. I just can’t.”

The once flamboyant, golden-haired girl from her memories now stood before her, so utterly humbled. Wen Yige felt a complex mix of emotions. In matters of the heart, who could truly say who was right or wrong?

She and Li Wancheng were merely two mayflies drifting in the river of fate. At their core, neither was truly at fault.

The harsh fluorescent light stung Wen Yige’s eyes, which began to water.

Now that they had overcome so many obstacles to reunite, why continue to torment each other?

Li Wancheng lowered her gaze, her wet lashes drooping like withered butterfly wings.

Suddenly, warm lips pressed against the corner of her eye, then her nose. Wen Yige gently kissed away the tears clinging to her cheeks, one by one.

Loving was difficult enough; staying together was even harder.

Wen Yige stroked Li Wancheng’s temple, her eyes now openly brimming with tenderness and affection. “A-Cheng, I love you too. I’ve never stopped.”

The kiss naturally slid to their lips, its bitterness tinged with tears. The taste lingered on their tongues, slowly softened and ground by the tender, flowing kiss, until it transformed into honey dripping from a flowering branch.

Their long separation hadn’t created any friction between them; instead, it had deepened their tenderness and familiarity.

After the kiss, Li Wancheng reached out to smooth the woman’s slightly disheveled hair, her voice soft as she asked, “I made noodles. Want some?”

Exhausted from socializing at the banquet, she hadn’t eaten much. She nodded, set down the photo frame, and followed Li Wancheng out.

Two bowls of clear broth noodles sat on the table. Perhaps because they’d lingered too long in the bedroom, the noodles were slightly clumpy. Li Wancheng pushed the bowl with the poached egg toward her.

“That photo… Xu Zhou took it secretly,” she suddenly said.

Li Wancheng froze. The woman continued, “I know everything about what happened back then.”

She knew Li Wancheng had chosen to hide the truth to avoid affecting her exam performance, and she understood the pain behind her sudden departure.

Perhaps the day’s events had been too overwhelming, leaving her physically and mentally exhausted, causing Wen Yige to fall asleep particularly quickly. Beneath the covers, her fingertips carefully gripped Li Wancheng’s hand, holding it tightly as if afraid she would vanish again the moment she opened her eyes.

The System pieced together these details, its expression complex. “Did you meticulously orchestrate everything just for this moment?”

Looking back, from planting informants to buying the house after returning to the country, deliberately choosing the kitten from the cat shelter, and even… that photograph Xu Zhou had secretly taken years ago—all these threads had woven into an intricate web, each strand meticulously connected.

In the darkness, Li Wancheng’s expression remained indiscernible. After a long silence, she gently curved her lips into a smile, neither confirming nor denying the System’s question.

What truly erases hatred isn’t love, but rather memories and remorse.

That’s why, the moment she realized she couldn’t prevent Xu Zhou and Wen Yige’s marriage, she began implementing this plan.

To ensure its success, she not only had Xu Zhou followed but also planted informants around Wen Yige.

She wrapped her arms around Wen Yige’s waist from behind, lazily resting her head on her shoulder. “Why are you up so early?”

“Making you breakfast,” Wen Yige replied, tilting her chin toward the two sandwiches on a nearby plate.

Li Wancheng gently nuzzled her earlobe. “Don’t bother with that. I want to show you something.” Her voice, still thick with sleep, sounded particularly alluring.

Wen Yige shivered slightly at the warm breath tickling her ear. “What is it?” she asked, smiling. “Why so mysterious?”

“You’ll see.” Li Wancheng took her hand, interlacing their fingers. “Close your eyes. Don’t open them until I tell you to.”

In the darkness, people often feel vulnerable, but with Li Wancheng’s hand in hers, Wen Yige felt as secure as if she were guided by a lighthouse in the dark, the source of all her safety.

Li Wancheng led her through the living room, moving slowly forward. The house was on the ground floor, and a small garden lay just beyond the balcony doors.

After a long moment, a faint breeze stirred the air. Li Wancheng whispered, “You can open your eyes now.”

As Wen Yige lifted her eyelids, the scene before her gradually filled with color, like a black-and-white photograph suddenly bursting into vibrant hues.

“You once said you hoped to have a cat and live in a house with a garden someday, preferably one filled with sunflowers.”

Wen Yige turned her head to look at Li Wancheng’s pale face, slightly translucent in the sunlight. She hadn’t realized Li Wancheng still remembered that casual remark from years ago.

A gentle breeze lifted strands of Li Wancheng’s dark hair across her forehead, the scene overlapping with memories from years past. A faint smile played on her lips.

“At first, I thought if there was no chance for us, I would stay here with Tuantuan forever. That way, I could at least feel like we had lived together.”

In the row of flowerpots, the sunflowers remained tightly budded, waiting for the end of winter to bloom.

Li Wancheng slowly turned, carrying the first warmth of winter sunlight with her. Her voice, soft and tender, seemed tinged with the morning’s lingering drowsiness. “If you’re willing to move in, I think their blooming will finally have meaning.”

Wen Yige could almost hear her own heart pounding, as if about to burst free from its cage, as clear and fervent as it had been during their first meeting.

Overwhelmed by the longing in her heart, she leaned in to kiss Li Wancheng’s lips, her answer lost in the tide of their intertwined mouths: “I’m willing.”