Mistaken ‘O’ is a Crazy Gorgeous Boss - Chapter 38

“Do you still remember her?”

As the words faded, their eyes met, and Qu Zhen suddenly felt as if rain had begun to fall in Shen Zhikou’s eyes, dripping into the depths of her heart.

It was then that her memories slowly drifted back to that rainy day six years ago.

That day, her family of three had driven to her grandmother’s house. While resting in the car on a small path, she had eaten a fruit bento and gotten stains on her hands. Even after wiping them with a tissue, they still felt sticky.

Coincidentally, there was a river nearby. Being someone who valued cleanliness, she took an umbrella and went to the riverbank to wash her hands. As she stepped down the stone stairs, she spotted a glaring patch of white amidst the overgrown weeds.

The surroundings were quiet. She paused for a moment, then turned right and moved closer to the weeds. The closer she got, the clearer it became, what lay in the damp grass was not an object, but an unconscious person.

At sixteen, Qu Zhen was so frightened that she stumbled, nearly losing her footing and falling.

The noise she made roused the unconscious person. Qu Zhen saw the girl’s pale lips move slightly, and her bloodied fingers weakly gestured in her direction.

Qu Zhen nervously glanced toward her two mothers. Perhaps it was because the person before her looked so pitiful and wretched, evoking a deep sense of compassion, and since there seemed to be no immediate danger around, she mustered her courage, holding the umbrella as she approached.

At the same time, she pulled out her phone from her pocket, ready to call for an ambulance.

“Don’t be afraid. I’ll call for an ambulance right now. The doctors will be here soon,” she said, trying to reassure the girl.

Just as she was about to dial, the girl with bandages wrapped around her face suddenly grabbed the hem of her pants, her voice hoarse as she spoke word by word:

“Don’t… call.”

“I… won’t go… to the hospital.”

“Save… me.”

The blood from the girl’s fingertips, stained Qu Zhen’s light-blue jeans. Her eyes, filled with red streaks, resembled those of a vengeful spirit clawing its way out of hell, yet because of the rain, they gradually welled up with a glistening wetness.

“My family… abused me. If I go to the hospital, they’ll find me.” Her condition was truly dire, and even speaking a full sentence seemed exhausting. “Please… I’m begging you… save me.”

Qu Zhen froze, but before she could react, the girl passed out again.

Her mind in chaos, Qu Zhen quickly dropped her umbrella, bent down, and using the slope of the ground, hoisted the girl onto her back. She then hurried toward where Qin Huan was. The person on her back was light, almost weightless like a cloud, perhaps only slightly heavier than the oversized cotton dolls at her hometown.

After explaining the situation to her mothers, they rushed to Meixiang Village.

Once they arrived, Grandma Qin, who was an Omega, carefully bandaged the girl and conducted a thorough examination. Removing her glasses, she told the three of them:

“She’s an Omega. Her face, limbs, abdomen, and other areas all show varying degrees of injury, some look even more severe than abuse. Some are old wounds, some are new. Though they look frightening, none have damaged her internally. With careful recuperation for a month or two, she shouldn’t have any major lasting issues.” The elderly Grandma Qin sighed. “She’s far too thin, malnourished for a long time. Judging by the development of her glands, she should already be an adult, but I can’t tell exactly how old she is. The injuries on her face are severe, and even with treatment, scars will remain. Even if you spend a fortune on repairs, it might still…”

“Grandma, is she already an adult?” Sixteen-year-old Qu Zhen widened her eyes. “But she looks so thin and small. I thought she was even younger than me.”

“She is indeed an adult.”

Qin Huan frowned. “She must have been mistreated at home. What era is this now? How can people still abuse their own children?” She rarely cursed, but couldn’t help it this time. “Damn them.”

Qu Han quietly reminded her that the child was nearby.

The three adults began discussing whether the girl should stay. Qu Han and Grandma Qin felt there were still many uncertainties about the situation, while Qin Huan and Qu Zhen both believed the girl should remain.

Though still a child herself, Qu Zhen resolutely took responsibility. “I brought her back, so I’ll take care of her. I can handle feeding her and everything.”

Qin Huan smiled and pinched her daughter’s soft cheek.

After the discussion ended, Qu Zhen ran to the girl’s bedside and watched over her with concern for a long time, her porcelain face filled with the seriousness of someone making a wish.

“Please wake up soon.”

The girl finally regained consciousness the next evening. Her voice was hoarse and rough as she recounted her experience of being abused and escaping. Her slender body trembled like a branch about to break in a storm.

Qin Huan, already a mother, had tears in her eyes. The innocent and kind-hearted Qu Zhen turned into a red-eyed little rabbit.

The girl stayed. Qu Zhen gave up her own room for her to sleep in. She rarely spoke, her emotions so faint they were almost nonexistent. Three days later, she finally told everyone her name was He Yu.

For the next month, Qu Zhen called her Sister Xiao Yu.

Apart from her hips and thighs, He Yu’s body was wrapped in bandages. In Qu Zhen’s memory, she always sat quietly by the bed or the window, like a mummy from a history book. No one had seen her face except for Grandma Qin, who helped change her bandages.

Everyone knew her facial injuries were severe, and prying would only cause her more pain.

Even when He Yu left without a word a month later, Qu Zhen still didn’t know how much older she was. At the time, Qu Zhen wasn’t angry, just surprised, worried, and even a little sad. They were all concerned about where the still-injured He Yu had gone.

It was drizzling that day, and Qu Zhen even rode her bicycle to search outside the village, but there was no trace of her.

They met in the rain and parted in the night rain.

…

Snapping out of her memories, Qu Zhen placed the warmed hot water bottle under Shen Zhikou’s wrist. Only after lying back under the covers did she softly reply.

“I remember. But it’s been six years, so the details are a bit fuzzy.”

The flicker of joy in Shen Zhikou’s eyes gradually dimmed.

Unaware of the change in the person beside her, Qu Zhen briefly recounted the story of this person from her past and then pondered, “After she left, I even searched for her. Maybe I was too naive, believing everything people said. She left without a word, perhaps she had been lying from the start. My mother was suspicious back then, but I thought she was truly pitiful, so I foolishly…”

Shen Zhikou countered, “If she deceived you, would you hate her?”

Qu Zhen turned to face her again and shook her head. “I don’t know. Probably not. She might have had her own reasons, and she didn’t harm any of us. But I don’t like being lied to. Deception makes me feel… distant.”

Shen Zhikou fell silent.

“Sis,” Qu Zhen called out, “why did Mom say that?”

“Because of this cinnabar mole, she said that old acquaintance had one on their wrist too.”

Qu Zhen blinked, not giving it much thought. Back then, Qin Huan would occasionally go in to pass things to Grandma Qin, and she guessed she might have caught a glimpse of it while changing the dressing.

“What a coincidence.”

“Mhm.”

“She probably didn’t like me very much,” Qu Zhen suddenly said. “At the time, I took it to heart, worried she might be secretly sad all alone, so I always ran to her room to keep her company. I’d bring my tablet to watch shows with her, tell her about the archaeology storybooks I loved, trying to cheer her up. But really, it was mostly me talking to myself. She hardly reacted, rarely responded, and probably wasn’t very interested in what I was saying.”

“Looking back now, I think she must have found me annoying.”

Under the covers, where Qu Zhen couldn’t see, Shen Zhikou gradually clenched her hand, her voice unsteady. “Maybe she was listening to you. It’s just, as you mentioned, she’s a quiet person by nature. I suspect she might not be good at expressing herself either.”

“It’s okay,” Qu Zhen curved her lips, revealing her small dimples. “It’s been so long, it doesn’t matter anymore. If you hadn’t brought it up, I would’ve almost forgotten about it.”

“Just like my mom said, in life, you meet all kinds of people. Many of them are just passing acquaintances, travelers who accompany you for a stretch of the journey.”

Then, mustering her courage, she added, “But we’re different. I want to walk with you, sis, all the way to the end of the road.”

Shen Zhikou leaned in and kissed her.

It wasn’t a fleeting peck but a deep, immersive kiss. Just as Qu Zhen was getting dazed and about to take the lead, Shen Zhikou burrowed entirely into her arms, nuzzling against her chest like a soft little kitten.

“Goodnight, Zhenzhen.”

The position was intimate; they were pressed closely against each other. Qu Zhen’s mind buzzed as if boiling water were bubbling over, her cheeks flushed as she responded softly.

“Goodnight, sis.”

Even after saying goodnight, Qu Zhen couldn’t fall asleep for a long time. She tried repeatedly to lull herself to sleep, and only when the pattering rain outside grew louder did she finally drift into a deep slumber.

Sometime later, as the sound of rain drowned out the thumping of her heart, Shen Zhikou, held in Qu Zhen’s embrace, opened her eyes.

Her gaze was clear, devoid of sleepiness. By the glow of the night light, she quietly watched Qu Zhen, dark emotions swirling in her eyes, mingled with a deep possessiveness.

Soon, she leaned in again, kissing the corner of Qu Zhen’s lips. The kisses trailed to her dimples and did not cease.

Once a lie begins, it takes a thousand more to cover it up.

Even Shen Zhikou, who could wield immense power, couldn’t tell Qu Zhen before she fell asleep that He Yu hadn’t disliked her back then, let alone found her annoying.

At sixteen, Qu Zhen hadn’t yet experienced the car accident that would alter her college entrance exam choices and life trajectory, nor had she faced the sudden loss of her beloved grandmother. She was a flower raised in a greenhouse, nurtured with love.

Innocent and lively, playful and spirited, she was like the most vibrant pearl plum blossoms covering the hills in summer.

In just thirty short days, Qu Zhen, as cheerful as a little sparrow every day, would bring different archaeology books into the room, sharing amusing anecdotes to make her laugh. She would catch fireflies to create starry lanterns for her, pick various flowers to place in a vase, allowing her to experience the summer of Meixiang even indoors.

Most of the time, she would sit on the rug by the desk, happily sharing her dreams for the future.

“Sister Xiao Yu, my grades are pretty good. I hope I can get into Q University because their archaeology program is the best in the country.”

“Q University not only has the best archaeology faculty but also a precious, specialized library for archaeological collections. I really want to study and read there. When I grow up, I’m going to build a small library in my own house, just for my favorite archaeology books.”

“Sister Xiao Yu, the village set off fireworks today, they were so beautiful. I heard that the Haicheng Bund has the most spectacular fireworks display in the country. When I grow up and earn money, I want to go see it on my birthday.”

“Oh, and there’s also the Hongming Temple in Haicheng. I want to go there to pray for my mom and grandma. It would be even better if I could light a sky lantern there!”

As her kisses trailed down to the jawline, Shen Zhikou faintly heard that lively voice echoing in her ears again.

“Sister Xiao Yu, is there anything you really like?”

She remembered staying silent back then, and the little girl, thinking she wasn’t in the mood to answer, quickly changed the subject.

That silence had led to the unspeakable emotions she felt now.

She had never been allowed to have things she liked. As a child, she loved dolls, kittens, and puppies, but the next day, she would receive a bag of dismembered, gutted teddy bears with stuffing spilling out, or innocent cats and dogs she had merely glanced at, tortured and killed.

Even the flowers she secretly picked up in the yard would be uprooted because of her. The blossoms on the trees would be crushed and trampled into the mud, turning to dust amidst the sound of destruction.

It was her biological alpha mother, using actions to tell her,

She didn’t deserve to like anything, didn’t deserve to possess anything, and didn’t deserve to be liked. She was meant to live like a sinner, atoning in endless suffering, spending this guilt-ridden life alone.

She was like a lone boat adrift on a dark, turbulent sea, until it crashed into an iceberg and sank into the abyss, vanishing completely.

But Qu Zhen burst into her life with vibrant energy, like an unexpected summer rain. Yet, after the rain cleared and the skies brightened, only she remained in place, gazing at the moon day and night, waiting for the next reunion.

He Yu never ignored Qu Zhen or dismissed her words. On the contrary, she had never forgotten a single thing Qu Zhen said, and neither had Shen Zhikou.

She remembered every one of her wishes, renovating and expanding C University’s library for her, setting off a fireworks display that stunned all of Haicheng on her birthday, personally lighting three sky lanterns at the Xiangyun Pagoda of Hongming Temple for her.

Even if Qu Zhen remained unaware, she was content.

But in the end, she had overestimated her own endurance. She simply couldn’t bear to watch her little girl walk toward someone else. Now, she wanted her to know,

She liked her.

She really liked her.

She wanted to be liked by her.

Even if it meant resorting to any means, even if it led to eternal ruin, she would.

Her eyes would only ever hold her.