My Wife Is a Delicate Omega and I’ve Forgotten Her After Amnesia - Chapter 5

Shu Yu was pleasantly surprised. “Why are you here? How did you manage that? Come in, come in.”

Shu Yu stood silently, stepping back to look left and right. “Is this the only room on this floor?”

“That’s right,” Jiang Zhijiu replied, leaning against the doorframe, her slender waist curved elegantly. “Little sister, are you trying to say you came to the wrong place, or were you just not expecting me to be the one who opened the door?”

Jiang Zhijiu lowered her gaze to the fruit Shu Yu was carrying and raised an eyebrow. “Oh? I thought you were visiting to make amends for the other day. Guess not? Who was this fruit supposed to be for?”

Shu Yu calmly explained her purpose. She told her that she used to live here, and because of an illness, she had forgotten some things, so she had come to see if seeing the old surroundings might trigger any memories.

“So it really wasn’t specifically to visit me,” Jiang Zhijiu said, stepping aside with a disappointed air. She nonchalantly kicked a pair of disposable slippers toward Shu Yu’s feet. “Come in, then. I just moved in not long ago, and I haven’t even finished unpacking my boxes.”

Shu Yu changed her shoes and walked in. The living room was wide and open. Although she couldn’t see into the bedrooms, the space was clearly a large, flat apartment of two or three hundred square meters. Near the sofa, six or seven suitcases were scattered about, making it appear that Jiang Zhijiu truly had just arrived.

Shu Yu walked ahead, trying to find anything that might spark a memory, while Jiang Zhijiu followed close behind. Suddenly, Jiang Zhijiu chuckled. “Shu Yu, little sister, don’t you think it’s a funny coincidence? To think that the new place I rented just happens to be the one you vacated.”

Shu Yu stopped abruptly and turned to ask, “Aren’t you a local? You should have your own home, so why are you renting?”

Is it to make it easier to bring girls home?

Jiang Zhijiu squinted and smiled, looking lazy and audacious. “That’s none of your business.”

Shu Yu paused for a moment, then asked politely, “May I have a look at your kitchen?”

Jiang Zhijiu glanced at the fruit in her hands. “If you want to wash those fruits for me, sure.”

The kitchen was a hybrid of traditional Chinese and a Western-style island. Shu Yu entered the Chinese side, her probing gaze scanning the surroundings, but she felt no sense of familiarity.

The only familiar thing was the scent of roses lingering behind her, a distance neither too close nor too far, making it impossible for her to ignore.

The kitchen door was left open, and Jiang Zhijiu leaned lazily against the island, summarizing the situation in a slow, languid tone. “You saved me the other day, stopping that creep from touching me, so I owe you a thank you. But your pheromones made me feel miserable and forced me to get a painful suppression shot, so you owe me an apology. You say thank you, I say sorry, and it seems like we’re even. But the more I think about it, I’d rather have just been touched by that creep—at least that wouldn’t have hurt.”

Shu Yu turned to face her sharply, the air pressure dropping instantly. Her cool, refined face hardened with seriousness and warning. “Never let any man touch you.”

Jiang Zhijiu was slightly stunned, then raised an eyebrow. “Why do you care?”

Shu Yu stared at Jiang Zhijiu with an icy, frost-like expression. She knew she had no standing to control Jiang Zhijiu, but in this moment, she simply wanted to. “Don’t you find it disgusting?”

Jiang Zhijiu had spent the whole night in the hospital and hadn’t seen Shu Yu ask Bai Ruoliu about her condition at all. Filled with resentment and feeling wronged, she continued with an indifferent, mocking smile. “It’s disgusting. But I don’t need you to tell me what to do, do I? Are you my girlfriend?”

Shu Yu was rendered speechless by the retort. Emotionless, she turned to grab the fruit, taking out seasonal South African honey mandarins and Thai mangosteens. “Where are the plates?”

Jiang Zhijiu never knew where anything in the kitchen was. “I just moved in, and I don’t cook, so I’ve never even been in the kitchen. Find them yourself.”

Shu Yu looked down, searching through the cabinets until she found an exquisitely patterned fruit plate. She took a knife, washed it, and began peeling the mandarins, followed by the mangosteens.

Suddenly, a hand reached forward, brushing against her waist. Jiang Zhijiu rested her other hand on Shu Yu’s shoulder, leaning in behind her with effortless intimacy. She peeked around from below, looking up at her. “Big sister is thirsty. Can I have a piece first?”

Jiang Zhijiu leaned to the side, her loose V-neck silk camisole shifting along with her, revealing a large expanse of supple skin. A hint of a soft curve peeked through as well. Completely oblivious, Jiang Zhijiu pursed her pink lips and asked, acting spoiled, “Baby, big sister isn’t angry anymore, so don’t be annoyed with me, okay?”

Her voice was as sweet as a canary’s, her face and eyes so beautiful they made one forget to breathe, looking at her with such soft, coquettish charm.

Shu Yu’s lips felt dry. She unconsciously shifted her waist to avoid the touch and lowered her eyes to peel the fruit. “I’m not annoyed.”

She truly didn’t know why she was feeling annoyed.

Maybe it was because of that “Little Fragrance” from the other day.

Maybe it was because Jiang Zhijiu had opened the door to a stranger before even looking to see who it was, and she was worried about her safety.

Or maybe she simply disliked Jiang Zhijiu’s “player” attitude. What kind of young lady moves out to rent a place when she already has her own home?

If it wasn’t for the convenience of bringing people home, what else could it be for?

Jiang Zhijiu was the owner of over a dozen bars and the apple of the Jiang Group’s eye. It was impossible for her not to have her own property.

Between her lack of self-preservation and her penchant for flirting with girls, Shu Yu felt a deep, irritable restlessness in her heart.

“Understood. Then we’re back on good terms,” Jiang Zhijiu said with a light laugh, pulling her hand back. She took a slice of mandarin and leaned against the counter next to Shu Yu, eating it. “So sweet. I heard from Bai Ruoliu that you’re a video blogger. What do you film? You went straight to the kitchen when you came in—are you a food blogger?”

“Yes.”

“How many followers do you have? Can you let me see your profile?”

“Not many.”

“Not showing me, huh?” Jiang Zhijiu dragged out her words, looking disappointed. “Looks like you really don’t like me.”

Two seconds later, Shu Yu wiped her hands dry, turned, and took her phone out of her bag, handing it to Jiang Zhijiu. “Look all you want.”

In truth, she could have just told her the ID to look up on her own phone. She didn’t know why, but when she heard Jiang Zhijiu say “Not showing me, huh,” she had reached out her phone to Jiang Zhijiu as if by reflex.

Jiang Zhijiu took the phone, looked up, and smiled meaningfully. “Oh? Does this mean you like me, little sister?”

Shu Yu frowned and made a move to take it back. “Forget it, then.”

Jiang Zhijiu hummed, holding on tightly so she couldn’t take it back. “I’m looking! Who said I wasn’t?”

Shu Yu pulled her hand back and continued peeling the mangosteens.

Jiang Zhijiu scrolled through Shu Yu’s profile, occasionally exclaiming about how well-made the videos were, marveling at how delicious the food looked. Every sentence was filled with exclamation points, showering praise on Shu Yu’s culinary skills while her voice brimmed with affirmation and yearning.

“Baby, you’re just too amazing,” Jiang Zhijiu leaned close to Shu Yu to ask, “You said you forgot some things—have you remembered anything yet?”

Hearing the word “baby” again, Shu Yu felt a mix of annoyance at Jiang Zhijiu’s flippancy and a strange upward curl at the corner of her lips. Her expression was deeply conflicted.

“I haven’t remembered anything,” Shu Yu replied coolly.

“Then how about this?” Jiang Zhijiu pointed to a dish of cola-glazed rice cake wings in a video. “I’m hungry, and my housekeeper just happened to buy chicken wings and rice cakes. Why don’t you try making this dish? Maybe you’ll remember something while you’re cooking.”

Jiang Zhijiu’s ulterior motives were practically written all over her face.

Driven by an inexplicable impulse, Shu Yu watched the video a video she had no memory of recording and then began scoring the wings to prepare the dish.

While she cooked, Jiang Zhijiu watched her from behind, her gaze unable to tear itself away for even a second, lingering deeply on Shu Yu’s busy back.

Time seemed to stretch under her gaze, as if she had entered another dimension. Everything around them vanished—the sun disappeared, leaving only the light above Shu Yu shining in the darkness. Shu Yu’s busy figure seemed to return to the past; she turned to look at her, walked over to embrace her, lifted her onto the island, and kissed her—a deep, insatiable kiss. They kissed until the pot behind them was nearly boiling over, only then did Shu Yu pull away, plant a heavy kiss on her cheek, chuckle while ruffling her hair, and say, “Sit tight, dinner is almost ready,” before turning to turn off the stove and serve the food.

Shu Yu was the best lover in the world, even if Shu Yu had never loved her back.

The sound of a plate hitting the table brought Jiang Zhijiu back to reality. Everything that had vanished reappeared, returning to its place. Shu Yu’s cold, aloof silhouette stood there, harboring no feelings for her whatsoever—not even hate.

Jiang Zhijiu lowered her eyes, which were aching and burning. She suddenly felt it would have been better if Shu Yu had just dumped her; even if she had been abandoned, at least Shu Yu would have kept all the memories they shared.

But now, Shu Yu had forgotten everything between them, as if those three years had been nothing but a hallucination she had imagined all on her own.

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