The Alpha Who Played Me Has Re-Differentiated Into a Delicate Omega - Chapter 7

For a moment, Jiao Jin didn’t know what to say. She wasn’t sure if she should continue maintaining her cold, reproachful facade. It seemed she had been inconsiderate, the current Cui Yu was no longer the “big block of ice” from before who needed no one by her side.

Her expression turned troubled. Jiao Jin let out a deep sigh and asked, “So, you just curled up here after I left?”

Cui Yu’s body was still trembling slightly, yet she fought the urge to throw herself into Jiao Jin’s arms. She was afraid that being too clingy would invite loathing. Sitting on the bed, her posture mirrored someone huddled in a corner, head buried between her knees, completely devoid of any sense of security.

Her voice was muffled, carrying an ambiguous quiver. “Mm… I….I didn’t want to be like this. But my legs were weak; I couldn’t stand up.”

“I didn’t think of that,” Jiao Jin admitted. “But if I really hadn’t come back tonight, would you have really slept in the corner all night? That won’t do.”

At that moment, Jiao Jin finally understood the reason for the tremor in the woman’s voice. She saw Cui Yu look up, tears were swirling in her eyes before finally overflowing, tracing watermarks down her pale cheeks.

“I don’t blame you for hating me. I hate myself too. Why do I have zero ability to take care of myself? Why do I feel like I’m suffocating the moment I leave you?”

Her voice, usually soft, had dropped to rock bottom, sounding despondent and world-weary. Jiao Jin couldn’t deny the surge of pity she felt. Looking at the sobbing, shivering Cui Yu, her old prejudices momentarily vanished.

“I didn’t say that. Why are you thinking like that?”

“You… you do think that, don’t you? You just don’t say it. Who could like a burden who can’t even function without you?”

The more she spoke, the harder she cried. Before, she had been a stoic, tsundere type who would swallow her grievances in silence. Now that she had amnesia, she said whatever was on her mind and never held back her tears. Jiao Jin couldn’t say if this change was good or bad, but she realized she liked the current Cui Yu a bit more.

Perhaps it was because of how much Cui Yu cared about her.

“My annoyance toward you stems only from our bitter parting three years ago. It has nothing to do with how clingy you are now. This time, it was indeed my lack of consideration. It won’t happen again.”

It took a while for Cui Yu’s brain to process the roundabout words. Suddenly, her eyes brightened, and she sat up a bit straighter, full of anticipation. “So… so, you mean you don’t hate the current me, right?”

Jiao Jin didn’t know how she had interpreted it that way, but since it was essentially the truth, she nodded, chalking it up to sympathy for a patient. “Mm. Personally, I don’t hate the current you. I just don’t like the ‘you’ from three years ago.”

“But, both of those people are me, aren’t they?”

Cui Yu found her own phrasing strange, yet she felt a mysterious urge to draw a line between herself and her past self. After all, that way, she wouldn’t be loathed by the person she relied on most. She smiled and said, “Still, you can treat us as two different people.”

There was one more thing she couldn’t bring herself to say, even with her current bold and candid personality. Cui Yu gripped the soft, comfortable quilt and thought silently. Please, keep the current me and the old me separate. Just like the current me. Don’t hate me.

“How could I treat you as two people? Cui Yu, you can’t run away from the past. You still have to recover your memories.”

“It’s not running away…”

Feeling misunderstood again, Cui Yu’s eyes reflected anxiety and grievance. “I just don’t want you to hate me because of the past. I… I don’t remember any of it, so I can’t explain, make amends, or apologize. It’s not fair to me.”

Jiao Jin was somewhat surprised. Initially, she thought the woman just wanted to use her amnesia as a free pass to ignore her past misdeeds. Only now did she realize Cui Yu simply felt helpless to fix what she couldn’t remember.

“Do you… really think that?”

Jiao Jin asked as if seeking confirmation. She received a firm nod. The woman on the bed, knees pulled up, looked up at her. Her hair fell quietly by her ears, and the crown of her head looked soft and obedient. She was entirely without sharp edges, yet she radiated a sincerity Jiao Jin had never seen before.

She hadn’t expected amnesia to cause such a transformation. Jiao Jin sighed again, but this time it was at herself. She realized she was softening again, just like three years ago, she always made an exception for Cui Yu.

“I’ve brought the things from the door inside. Go take a shower first. When you’re out, we’ll change your dressings.”

“Change my dressings?”

Cui Yu knew she had many whip scars on her body. But these wounds were all over, how… how could she let this person see all of that?

“Yes. But if you can apply the medicine yourself, then you don’t have to trouble me.”

Seeing Jiao Jin’s cool, indifferent demeanor, Cui Yu was instantly unhappy again. Shyness was one thing, but Jiao Jin’s total lack of interest in her body was another. Her slender fingers curled into fists as she stiffened her neck. “I… I can’t reach the ones on my back.”

“Then go shower.”

After saying that, Jiao Jin sat down at the desk. A projection appeared on the wall near her. Pressing a button, she began reviewing her upcoming work schedule. The major kidnapping case from before had concluded, but a new mission had appeared.

“Protect the safety of the second Miss of the Cui family.”

She actually doubted if there was a typo. Why “Second Miss”? Wasn’t the one in her house the Eldest Miss?

Checking the mission details, good heavens. It turned out that after Cui Peining returned today, she received a so-called “Death Email.” Even with current high technology, the IP address couldn’t be traced. Jiao Jin propped her chin up, feeling truly exhausted.

She glanced toward the bathroom. The warm yellow light cast a curvy, enchanting silhouette against the frosted glass door. Jiao Jin wasn’t nearly as calm as she claimed, she covered her face and realized her palms felt hot.

Actually, it seemed her face was flushing.

She went to the balcony to let the cold wind blow away the chaos in her mind. When she returned, the bedroom was filled with mist. She saw the “beauty emerging from the bath.” Without her sharp edges, Cui Yu’s cold, elegant features appeared innocent and bewildered. Coupled with the soft-focus filter of the steam, she looked like a vision one would remember for ten thousand years.

“Ahem. Do the clothes fit?”

“They’re okay, but the underwear is a bit small.”

Jiao Jin covered her fluster by pressing a fist to her lips. She grabbed the ointment from the desk, forcing herself to stay composed. “It’s fine as long as you can wear them. Tomorrow you can pick your own. Now, get on the bed. Expose your back. I’ll only help with the medicine on the back. You handle the front yourself.”

Unaware that behind her calm, rational voice, Jiao Jin’s face was slightly red, Cui Yu thought she truly had zero attraction. Pouting, she lay facedown on the bed. Her shyness vanished, she took the initiative to unbutton her pajamas.

Under the silvery moonlight, her pale skin seemed to catch the crystalline glow. Her shoulder blades looked delicate and fragile, making one fear that at any moment, she might sprout wings and fly to a place where she could never be found.

However, because of this, the blood-red whip marks were even more glaring. Jiao Jin sighed, rubbed the ointment into her palms, and slowly touched the clearly defined curve of Cui Yu’s shoulder.