My Wife Is a Delicate Omega and I’ve Forgotten Her After Amnesia - Chapter 10
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- My Wife Is a Delicate Omega and I’ve Forgotten Her After Amnesia
- Chapter 10 - Being Flirted With by My Wife
The C University campus was a tapestry of blooming flowers under a bright, sunny sky. High above, in the mirror-like azure expanse, two bright white clouds drifted. The trailing cloud chased the one ahead through the winds of the troposphere, gradually drawing closer until they merged, appearing as though they were embracing.
Shu Yu and Bai Ruoliu first accompanied Jiang Zhijiu to the lakeside to deliver some items to her aunt’s younger sister. Shu Yu led the way through C University’s grand, antique vermilion gates, passing the high-tech scallop-shaped library, and heading toward the rockery and stone bridge to the north.
Bai Ruoliu asked Shu Yu, “Are there any places here that feel particularly familiar to you?”
Shu Yu replied, “I studied here for five years, so everything is familiar.”
In reality, Shu Yu had spent her four years of undergraduate studies, her master’s, and her first year of doctoral studies at this school, but she had no recollection of the latter years; she only remembered the earlier ones.
“No, that’s not what I meant,” Bai Ruoliu guided her. “I mean, have you had any sudden flashes in your mind? Like a memory that doesn’t belong to those five years? Anything?”
Shu Yu tried to focus on her inner sensations. “No.”
“Forget it. The doctors said memory recovery is a bit of a mystery, so I won’t pressure you or put you under any stress,” Bai Ruoliu said, walking on the far right. She chatted casually with Jiang Zhijiu, who was in the middle. “Sister Jiu, which school did you graduate from? What did you study? Oh, right, you have so many bars—did you go to business school?”
“Me?” Jiang Zhijiu held up a small floral umbrella, tilting it intentionally toward Shu Yu to shield her from the harsh ultraviolet rays.
Shu Yu was prone to skin allergies after prolonged sun exposure, particularly her arms, which tended to redden.
Jiang Zhijiu smiled brightly and said, “I’m from the fine arts school next door. I paint nudes.”
Upon hearing this, Shu Yu glanced at her.
Owning bars, painting nudes, having plenty of “little sisters,” and harboring an unforgettable “Little Fragrance”—she was certainly a very colorful individual.
Bai Ruoliu continued, intrigued. “Is it that European oil painting style? It must be very artistic. Have you ever held an exhibition, Sister Jiu?”
“I can’t hold exhibitions,” Jiang Zhijiu threw a meaningful look at Shu Yu. “Most of what I paint are intimate duos that tend to make people blush and feel hot under the collar. So, I keep my personal hobbies to myself and hide them at home. I only occasionally sell a few non-nude paintings for extra pocket money, though I mostly rely on the bars for spending money.”
Bai Ruoliu gave an “Oh my,” and asked with the tone of a pure art connoisseur, “Does it involve sexual positions?”
“Bai Ruoliu,” Shu Yu said suddenly, her voice dropping to a freezing temperature.
“It’s fine, not offensive at all,” Jiang Zhijiu replied with composure. “Those of us who study human anatomy communicate openly about these things. I love painting the positions I imagine—like an Alpha’s hand pressed into an Omega’s skin, gripping, grabbing, or embedded. I love capturing the subtle sensations and details of skin-to-skin contact, and I also love portraying scenes of wild possessiveness and passionate desire.”
The images were delicate yet intense, and she could never paint enough of them.
Suddenly, Jiang Zhijiu looked at Shu Yu, her eyes curved in a deliberate, seductive gaze. “Whenever Sister Shu Yu wants to stimulate her hippocampus and neurons to find her lost memories, you can come to my place to appreciate my art. Purely artistic appreciation, Sister Shu Yu, don’t overthink it.”
It was an invitation that felt like flirting, disguised as an excuse of professional practice. Jiang Zhijiu was very good at flirting.
Shu Yu said coldly, “Thanks, I’m not interested.”
Jiang Zhijiu smiled and said nothing, though she muttered to herself that some people truly lacked self-awareness. She didn’t know who had suggested she paint nudes in the first place, or who always insisted on “practicing” in front of the mirror, making her observe every play of light and shadow on their fingers, or who had used the excuse of keeping her company while she painted to pull her into constant intimacy. Every stroke she painted was owed to this person.
“You aren’t interested now, but perhaps you will be in the future,” Jiang Zhijiu said toward Shu Yu’s tense profile, her voice soft and alluring. “I have a particularly beautiful stool at home… If Sister Shu Yu is ever interested, I’m always happy to welcome you. Really, just for artistic appreciation.”
“I’m an engineering student, I don’t have an eye for art. No need, thank you.”
“Alright then, what a pity.”
Shu Yu’s face remained cool, but in her mind, the flash of memory Bai Ruoliu had hinted at finally appeared. It was absurd: she saw herself in front of a mirror, pushing Jiang Zhijiu down onto a red stool, clutching her thighs, and kissing and licking Jiang Zhijiu’s scent gland. In the mirror, Jiang Zhijiu was trembling, tears falling, looking fragile, alluring, and completely intoxicating.
Shu Yu looked toward the distant, rolling green trees, her ears turning red, silently chastising herself for such unseemly, vulgar thoughts.
When they reached the lakeside, Jiang Zhijiu saw her younger sister, Shen Yitang, an internet influencer, setting up a shooting scene. She waved toward her. “Tang Tang, baby!”
Shen Yitang was a content creator with millions of followers. She often interspersed advertisements into her videos and was also the president of the school’s photography club. She was about to lead her members in a shoot, and the proceeds from the ads were always split among the participating members.
“Sister Jiu-Jiu!”
Shen Yitang dropped what she was doing and rushed toward Jiang Zhijiu, wrapping her in a tight hug. She buried her face in Jiang Zhijiu’s neck and hair, inhaling deeply. “So fragrant, so fragrant! No one in the world smells better than my sister. Sob, Sister, give me lots and lots of energy, I’m so unhappy.”
Shen Yitang was the biological daughter of Jiang Zhijiu’s aunt, so such an intimate embrace was only natural. Yet, Shu Yu looked away, feeling a subtle prickle of displeasure in her heart. Knowing she had no standing or reason to feel this way, she silently adjusted her emotions, letting her gaze fall coolly upon the clear, azure surface of the lake.
“Alright, alright,” Jiang Zhijiu laughed and pushed Shen Yitang away, handing her the DSLR camera. “Give the broken camera to sister. You can have this one, baby. Don’t be sad.”
Shen Yitang had her own camera for shooting shorts, but the DSLR she used for still photos had broken—the shutter wouldn’t press.
“Sob, you’re the best sister in the world,” Shen Yitang complained while continuing to cling to Jiang Zhijiu. “It’s not just the camera. The two beauties I booked for today canceled at the last minute. I can’t find anyone to fill in, and I already called the students and you here. I feel so guilty that you all had a wasted trip… Huh?!”
As she complained, she looked up and saw an incredibly beautiful woman. She let go of Jiang Zhijiu and rushed over to Shu Yu, quickly introducing herself and making a request: “Hello, Miss! I’m Jiang Zhijiu’s sister. I’m short two models right now. You don’t have to do much—just hold an umbrella and walk a few steps. Could you help me? I’m promoting a dual-use umbrella, and I have to get this video done in the next two days. Please, I’m begging you! I’ll split all the pay and dividends with you; I’m willing to take nothing myself.”
As she spoke, Shen Yitang put her hands together, begging pitifully, on the verge of tears.
Shu Yu’s instinct was to refuse. However, looking at the young girl, beyond a minor, inexplicable irritation—as if the girl had often taken up too much of Jiang Zhijiu’s time—she felt a strange, inexplicable sense of kinship.
“Hey, hey,” Bai Ruoliu waved a hand in front of Shen Yitang. “Do you not see me, little sister? I can model too. Why do you have to ask her?”
Shen Yitang glanced at Bai Ruoliu and said apologetically, “Sister, you have short hair. It doesn’t quite fit our product’s vibe.”
Bai Ruoliu was speechless and pulled Shu Yu to leave, but Jiang Zhijiu walked over. Her soft, boneless fingers caught Shu Yu’s wrist, and she whispered softly and coyly, “Shu Yu, will you help my sister this once? I see she’s even brought a rain tower here. Please, consider it a favor you’re doing for me. Whatever you ask of me later, I’ll agree to it, okay?”
Shu Yu lowered her eyes to look at the hand on her wrist—long, slender, and radiating a scorching warmth. The coaxing, delicate voice seemed to slip into her body along with the heat.
“Do you watch livestreams?” Shu Yu asked suddenly, out of the blue.
Jiang Zhijiu was baffled. “What kind of livestreams?”
“Livestreams. Don’t you watch them?”
Jiang Zhijiu realized what she meant. “Oh, you mean my sister’s livestream? I rarely watch it; watching that stuff affects my painting inspiration.”
Shu Yu was thoughtful. So, “Ginger Juice” was not Jiang Zhijiu?
“Any request?” Shu Yu returned to their previous topic.
“Yes, anything. But you can only ask for one thing, except for requests like asking me to stay away from you,” Jiang Zhijiu leaned closer, whispering even lower, “And if you want to do that with me, I…”
“I have no such intention,” Shu Yu interrupted her coolly. “I’m helping your sister, and you don’t owe me any favors. I’m just helping a fellow student.”
“Fine, fine, helping a fellow student,” Jiang Zhijiu smiled happily, let go of Shu Yu’s hand, and then leaned in to hug Shu Yu’s waist, swaying back and forth with her face tucked into Shu Yu’s collarbone. “Still, thank you, Shu Yu baby!”
Before she could be caught by Shu Yu, she ran off joyfully, calling out to Shen Yitang, “Tang-Tang baby, Sister Shu Yu agreed—”
Shu Yu watched Jiang Zhijiu’s red dress and long hair as she ran off laughing, looking like a carefree, adorable sprite transformed from a one-of-a-kind rose. She lowered her eyes, unable to help but smile slightly.
“Shu Yu, what are you smiling at?” Bai Ruoliu asked curiously, walking over.
Shu Yu immediately wiped the smile from her face. “Nothing.”
After the portable rain bar and rain tower were set up to create the effect of rain, Shen Yitang adjusted the cameras and prepared to shoot. However, looking at her sister and Shu Yu through the monitor, she felt the atmosphere was all wrong and lacked the right “flavor.”
“Sister Shu,” Shen Yitang stepped forward to give direction. “In this scene, you need to hold my sister close. The umbrella isn’t big enough, and the manufacturer doesn’t make a larger one for this series, so you need to hold her tightly and run quickly from this spot to that one, all while making sure her shoulders don’t get wet.”
Jiang Zhijiu frowned and interjected, “Why is it Shu Yu who has to keep my shoulders from getting wet? Can’t I hold Shu Yu close and keep her shoulders from getting wet? Find me a pair of high heels; I can be just as tall as Shu Yu.”
Shen Yitang said, “Because, Sister, you’re an ‘at-a-glance-weak’ Omega.”
Jiang Zhijiu continued to frown. “Can’t an Omega protect an Alpha? I want to protect Shu Yu.”
Shen Yitang replied, “Because in the script, you are the ‘at-a-glance-weak’ Omega who needs to be protected.”
Jiang Zhijiu could no longer find an excuse to hold Shu Yu or protect her.
“So, Sister Shu,” Shen Yitang looked at Shu Yu, “you have to hold my sister’s shoulders tightly, okay? You can do that, right? Oh, and don’t forget, after you run to that spot, lean in for a fake kiss. Just a fake kiss; you don’t actually have to kiss her.”