Pregnant with the Empress’s Alpha Heir - Chapter 20.1

Closing the cabinet door, Yu Zhitao still felt something wasn’t quite right.

Nowadays, most of the household chores in the apartment were handled by Ah Jiu. If she hid the medicine in the cabinet, wouldn’t there be a high chance of it being discovered?

Her original intention was precisely to prevent Ah Jiu from seeing these things and recalling unpleasant memories about her illness. If her plan backfired and she ended up placing the medicine right in Ah Jiu’s territory, wouldn’t that be utterly ridiculous?

But there was no time for her to remedy the situation now.

Ah Jiu emerged from the bathroom and, seeing her blocking the kitchen doorway, asked curiously, “Are you hungry?”

Yu Zhitao quickly seized the opportunity: “Yes, yes! I came to the kitchen to find something to eat.”

Ah Jiu swept her long hair behind her back.

“Go wash up. I’ll prepare something.”

She walked into the kitchen with ease, even opening the very cabinet where Yu Zhitao had just hidden something, taking out a frying pan from inside.

Yu Zhitao nearly forgot to breathe. Only when she saw that Ah Jiu hadn’t noticed anything unusual in the cabinet did she finally relax.

To avoid arousing suspicion, she waved her hand: “Then I’ll go first.”

With that, she fled the kitchen as if making a quick escape.

After she left, Ah Jiu turned her head and glanced at that cabinet.

Thanks to an Alpha’s exceptional memory, the moment she’d opened the cabinet, she’d noticed that something inside had been moved.

Clearly, this was the reason for Yu Zhitao’s earlier flustered behavior.

But soon after, Ah Jiu simply withdrew her gaze.

It was perfectly normal for Yu Zhitao to have secrets. She had them too.

And comparatively speaking, she was clearly the one keeping more from the other.

That night, after the two had finished their late-night snack, they finally brought this chaotic day to an end, embracing each other as they drifted off to sleep.

In her drowsy state, Yu Zhitao entered that dream once again.

At first, she could only enter the dream on nights when Ah Jiu marked her, but now, the timing of these dreams was becoming increasingly irregular.

It seemed that as long as Ah Jiu was sleeping beside her, there was a chance she would enter this lucid dream.

In truth, a long time had passed since that night when she’d gone with the demon girl to place the power device.

After that night, Yu Zhitao had entered the dream a few more times, but unfortunately, she hadn’t gained anything from these subsequent visits.

The demon girl’s lips seemed sealed shut. Yu Zhitao had tried probing about the palace and about Xiao Wu and her mother, but the demon girl was no longer willing to elaborate.

Thus, in recent dreams, she could only stay in the back garden, accompanying the demon girl as she recovered from her injuries or helping her gather materials to slowly rebuild the entire greenhouse.

Of course, as someone who wasn’t particularly handy, she couldn’t be of much help. She could only offer her labor and watch as the demon girl used her incredibly skillful hands to turn a pile of scrap into works of art.

This time, as usual, the moment she opened her eyes, she felt the demon girl’s gaze upon her.

Perhaps because her face had already been seen, or maybe because the monster problem had been resolved, the girl no longer wore that visor, revealing her delicate features in full.

Noticing Yu Zhitao was awake, she remarked flatly, “You slept for a long time this time.”

Yu Zhitao felt like she’d been caught slacking off.

She looked around at the now-repaired greenhouse roof and marveled, “You fixed it all by yourself? Didn’t we agree to seal the roof together after I woke up?”

The girl, Ah Jiu, wiped sweat from her forehead. “If I waited for you, the roof might never get sealed.”

Yu Zhitao puffed out her cheeks in protest.

She reached out to poke the cheeks of the young girl Ah Jiu, only to have her hand deftly avoided as expected.

Yu Zhitao could only resort to verbal tactics: “Ah Jiu, you’re really not cute like this.”

The young girl Ah Jiu lifted her head.

For once, she engaged with Yu Zhitao on such a trivial matter, asking, “What counts as ‘cute’?”

An image of Xiao Wu immediately flashed in Yu Zhitao’s mind, and she smiled. “Hmm, if you obediently let me poke your cheeks, that would be cute.

“And if you could take the initiative to say something like ‘Thank you, Sister Yu,’ that would be even better.”

As she spoke, she slurped back a bit of drool and giggled foolishly. “Of course, if you were willing to give me a kiss, that would be the best!”

Her expression was so overly greasy that Ah Jiu’s eyes filled with disgust.

The girl shuddered. “Is there any human who could meet such demands?”

Yu Zhitao widened her eyes. “Of course there is! This is a perfectly normal request!”

Instinctively, she pointed toward the palace. “Xiao Wu is exactly like that sweet, soft, and always ready for hugs and kisses.”

The moment the words left her mouth, she realized her mistake.

Ah Jiu lowered her head, her gaze instantly dimming.

“Then why don’t you just go find her?” She tightened the bundle of miscellaneous items on the ground.

Yu Zhitao waved her hands apologetically. “Sorry, I—I misspoke.”

She tried to salvage the situation. “I mean, it’s not like you have to be like Xiao Wu. Your cool demeanor is cute too.”

Ah Jiu shot her a slightly disdainful look, clearly unconvinced by her “flattery.”

Yu Zhitao slumped her shoulders in defeat.

Hugging her knees, she sat down. “You said you and Xiao Wu are twin sisters… Five and Nine—are you the older sister?”

Ah Jiu didn’t even lift her head.

After spending so much time together, Yu Zhitao had learned to read some of her body language.

So she corrected herself unprompted. “Oh, then you must be the younger sister.”

She asked, “If you two really are sisters, why are your personalities and builds so different? And… is the lady living in the master bedroom really Xiao Wu’s mother? If so, then she’s your mother too.

“But… but…”

But that very lady was the one who most wanted Ah Jiu dead.

Yu Zhitao didn’t dare say it out loud, but the implication was clear.

Ah Jiu continued working without looking up, but Yu Zhitao could sense her mood had darkened considerably.

Gritting her teeth, Yu Zhitao stood up.

She made up her mind. “I’m going to the palace!”

At this, Ah Jiu finally looked at her.

“You’re going back?”

Yu Zhitao quickly clarified, “‘Going there,’ not ‘going back.'”

She asked, “Do you know how to get in?”

Ah Jiu gave her a long look, then set down what she was holding and turned. “Follow me.”

Yu Zhitao hurried after her.

She felt as though she had walked into a dead end.

With Ah Jiu, the trail had gone cold, she could no longer extract any useful information.

If she wanted to break the stalemate, she had no choice but to return to the palace for answers.

Since this dream didn’t seem like it would end anytime soon, sitting around waiting was pointless. She might as well take a gamble.

Soon, she followed Ah Jiu to a small side gate.

“You can enter through here,” Ah Jiu explained simply.

Yu Zhitao’s first thought was, “By the way, can you go in this way?”

Ah Jiu stared blankly at the door and nodded.

Yu Zhitao sighed.

“The people inside know how to subdue you, but they can’t come out.

“You know how to enter the palace, yet you stubbornly guard it from the outside.

“What kind of nonsense is this!”

She patted the young girl Ah Jiu’s shoulder: “Go back, no need to wait for me. I might fall asleep inside and who knows when I’ll come out.

“When I do come out, I’ll find you at the greenhouse.”

The young girl Ah Jiu raised her eyes: “You really will come back?”

Her gaze was moist, carrying a fragile sense of trust that wasn’t usually there.

When someone usually strong shows rare vulnerability, it’s utterly disarming. Yu Zhitao felt as if her heart had been struck—

Compared to Xiao Wu, this demon girl seemed much more like Ah Jiu. From her expression, Yu Zhitao could almost imagine an Ah Jiu seeking reassurance from her.

All this time, it had been Ah Jiu stepping forward to protect her.

What if one day, she could protect Ah Jiu instead?

The thought was so overwhelming that Yu Zhitao felt willing to give her life for it.

Unable to restrain herself, she boldly stretched out her arms, pressing the young girl Ah Jiu’s head gently into her embrace.

“I’ll do everything I can to return as soon as possible,” she promised.

After about ten seconds, the young girl Ah Jiu nodded in her arms before stepping back.

Not wanting to waste any more time, Yu Zhitao gave her shoulder one last pat and opened the palace door to enter.

This time, she wasn’t going in blind.

Yu Zhitao had thought it through—if both the lady and Xiao Wu firmly believed the young girl Ah Jiu was a demon, then seeking them out wouldn’t lead to any progress.

But in this bizarre dream, there had always been one character missing—

The father.

Since this dream began, Yu Zhitao had only encountered information about this male figure in one place.

Back then, following Xiao Wu’s mother’s instructions, she had retrieved the dagger from Xiao Wu’s father’s study—the one said to completely vanquish a demon when plunged into its heart.

At the time, adhering to the principle of “see no evil,” Yu Zhitao hadn’t looked around.

But she distinctly remembered the study being filled with books and manuscripts.

So this time, Yu Zhitao planned to sneak back there for a look.

Moreover, she needed to avoid Xiao Wu and her mother, or she’d have no way to explain why the demon girl remained unharmed after her long absence.

In reality, navigating such a massive palace would be daunting—forget finding the master’s study, Yu Zhitao might well get lost.

But this was a dream.

Clearing her mind, she silently repeated, “Find the study, avoid everyone else,” then boldly took her first step—

As the master of this dream, she naturally had to have some “superpowers.”

In fact, many people in reality obsess over lucid dreaming precisely because they crave that feeling of being the creator, in complete control within the dream.

Yu Zhitao’s so-called “superpower” would likely be ridiculed mercilessly in a lucid dreaming enthusiast group.

Fortunately, her pathfinding “superpower” at least served her purpose perfectly. A few minutes later, Yu Zhitao saw the familiar door.

It wasn’t locked. She gave it a push.

At first, there was some resistance—as if something inside was blocking the door, unwilling to let her in. But soon, the obstruction gradually weakened until it vanished completely, allowing Yu Zhitao to slip smoothly into the study.

She felt a smug sense of triumph, thinking this space was almost indulgent toward her, granting her every wish.

After her moment of delight, she headed straight for the large desk at the center of the study.

Standing in front of it, her gaze was immediately drawn to a photograph.

Thick dust covered the picture, but she could still faintly make out the happy smiles of a family of four.

Yu Zhitao wiped away the grime and stared blankly at the couple seated on either side, each holding a little girl in their arms.

The two girls were very young—the smaller one looked about three years old, while the older one appeared to be five or six.

They looked just like a younger Xiao Wu and the demon girl.

“Little Ah Jiu wasn’t lying to me, they really were a family!”

“But… why did things turn out like this later?”

Setting the frame down, she began searching the desk.

Soon, she found something resembling a diary.

“Sorry, sorry! Circumstances force me to take a look at your diary.”

“If… if you really don’t want me to read it, make me wake up right now!”

She closed her eyes and waited three seconds. When she found herself still in the study, she exhaled in relief and opened the diary.

Skipping the irrelevant parts, she flipped to a few key entries.

Cosmic Calendar, Year 6251, March 19th: My two children have safely entered this world. My joy is beyond words.

Cosmic Calendar, Year 6251, May 6th: Xiao Wu keeps falling ill. The doctors say it’s due to congenital deficiencies. Her younger sister, Alpha Ah Jiu, has genes that are far too dominant not only did she rob Xiao Wu of the chance to be an Alpha, but she also took most of the nutrients. There’s already a noticeable size difference between them, and this gap will only grow wider. Xiao Wu’s development will lag far behind other children her age. Oh heavens, how could this happen?!

Cosmic Calendar, Year 6251, May 21st: Ru Meng cried today—she overheard those cruel whispers. I was too heartbroken. I should have warned those people earlier, told them not to spread such rumors! Damn it!

…

Cosmic Calendar, Year 6257, September 2nd: How did Xiao Wu find out about this?!

The further Yu Zhitao read, the colder her back grew.

She had pieced together the truth.

The stark differences between the twins shattered the family’s peace. After their father mysteriously disappeared, the mother and older sister, seemingly the weaker ones joined forces to drive out the younger sister, Ah Jiu, the Alpha!

If only the older twin had thought this way, it might have been understandable. But the terrifying part was that even their mother believed the younger sister had wronged the older one.

How important is a mother’s role in a child’s heart?

Under their relentless brainwashing, young Ah Jiu also came to believe that everything was her fault!

Yu Zhitao remembered the girl once saying:

“All her misfortune was caused by me!”

Now, everything made sense.

In that sentence, “her” clearly referred to Xiao Wu. Everyone believed that Xiao Wu’s frail health and suffering were all Ah Jiu’s fault!

What kind of absurd conclusion was that?

Realizing this, Yu Zhitao felt so angry that steam seemed to rise from her head!

Even in the womb, Little Ah Jiu had no choice!

Though she was also a rightful owner of the palace, Little Ah Jiu was driven out and forced to live in a dilapidated flower shed.

Despite trying so hard to protect the palace, she constantly endured malice from her mother and sisters!

How could this be?!

Yu Zhitao closed the diary and stormed out indignantly.

She had to tell Ah Jiu face-to-face that none of this was her fault!

But just as she took two steps, the study door opened from outside.

Startled, Yu Zhitao looked up.

A wave of dizzying clarity washed over her, and her last memory was of a small figure wearing an elaborate princess dress.

“Ah!” Yu Zhitao flailed her arms.

The next second, someone gently grasped her wrist.

“Don’t be afraid, it’s just a nightmare,” Ah Jiu’s voice came through.

It took Yu Zhitao two seconds to realize she had woken up.

Outside, dawn was barely breaking, two full hours earlier than their usual waking time.

Yu Zhitao lay back down, murmuring sleepily, “Sorry, I scared you.”

“You didn’t,” Ah Jiu replied in her usual calm manner.

In the dim morning light, her eyes sparkled without any trace of grogginess or irritation from being abruptly awakened. Instead, she asked softly, “What did you dream about?”

Yu Zhitao froze.

Ah Jiu touched her forehead. “My father once said sharing nightmares helps you recover faster.”

Hearing her mention “father” so suddenly, Yu Zhitao swallowed hard.

She couldn’t bring herself to reveal the dream’s contents.

If it were true, it might violate Ah Jiu’s privacy, especially since Ah Jiu had always been secretive about her past.

If it were false.

How foolish would that make her seem?

But Yu Zhitao needed to vent, so she vaguely said, “I dreamed of a very sad story.”

“Mmm,” Ah Jiu encouraged her to continue.

That simple sound in the hazy light gave Yu Zhitao immense courage.

Groping under the blanket, she found Ah Jiu’s hand and held it tightly as she went on, “There was a little girl who worked so hard to keep her family safe and happy.

“But for some unfounded reason, the family cast her out, even treated her like a demon, desperately trying to have her killed…

“Yet… yet the girl never held it against them. She was even willing to die if it meant protecting them…”

Unconsciously, Yu Zhitao grew more agitated as she spoke.

The dream had felt so vivid that she became emotional, tears streaming down her face.

She buried herself in Ah Jiu’s arms. “How could a mother and sisters be so cruel? Ah Jiu, she’s so sweet. She didn’t deserve any of it…”

Lost in her crying, she didn’t notice Ah Jiu’s prolonged silence, uncharacteristic for someone usually so composed.

Several minutes passed before Ah Jiu finally spoke. “Why would you think that?

“If her family despised her, there must be reasons you don’t know.

“Maybe,  she really was a demon?”

“She wasn’t!” Yu Zhitao clutched Ah Jiu’s collar, refuting vehemently.

Ah Jiu reached up to wipe her tears away.

Yu Zhitao insisted again, “Ah Jiu, she really wasn’t!”

Ah Jiu’s eyes flickered slightly as she conceded directly, “Fine, she’s not.”

Yu Zhitao was annoyed by her dismissive attitude but couldn’t find a suitable outlet for her frustration.

She could only wipe all her tears against the chest of the person beside her as a form of “revenge.”

Having woken up early and cried her heart out, Yu Zhitao quickly exhausted her energy. In her drowsy state, sleepiness crept up on her again.

Before dozing off, she clung to Ah Jiu and murmured, “By the way, Ah Jiu, when’s your birthday?”

Ah Jiu paused.

In the universe, countless humans were born every day—birthdates weren’t particularly significant secrets.

She answered swiftly.

“March 19th… Why do you ask?”

Yu Zhitao suddenly shuddered violently before burying her face in Ah Jiu’s shoulder.

“It’s nothing,  March 19th has already passed… What a shame,” she mumbled incoherently.

In truth, she was now wide awake.

When Ah Jiu mentioned that date, all her drowsiness had been jolted away.

Before this, she had no idea when Ah Jiu’s birthday was. So why, in her dream, did the twins’ birthdate in the diary perfectly match Ah Jiu’s?

Yu Zhitao refused to believe this was mere coincidence.

Considering everything that had happened before, she was now certain this dream was somehow connected to Ah Jiu.

But why would she dream about Ah Jiu’s memories?

Unfortunately, Ah Jiu clearly wasn’t willing to discuss her past, making it impossible to confront her directly about this.