Transmigrated as the Disabled Alpha Wife of the Black Moonlight and She Said She Loves Me - Chapter 45

At 2 a.m., Changbin Avenue remained brightly lit, with occasional cars speeding past, their rapid movement stirring wild gusts of wind.

Min Jiru walked dazedly in the middle of the road, as if in a trance. Several passing vehicles narrowly missed her, speeding by at breakneck speed.

Drivers cursed: “Are you crazy?! Get off the road! If you get hit, you deserve it!”

Other drivers slowed down, rolled down their windows, and leered at the disheveled beauty wandering alone on the deserted road, letting out lecherous laughs.

Min Jiru walked numbly, as if deaf to the obscene laughter. She muttered to herself, “Xien, you really left me… You don’t want me anymore, do you?”

“Hey, beautiful, what’s wrong? Did you have a fight with your boyfriend?” A car pulled up beside Min Jiru and slowly stopped. “Want a ride? I’ll give you a lift.”

Min Jiru acted as if she hadn’t heard and continued walking.

The man got out of the car, glanced around to ensure no one was watching and there were no cameras nearby, then quickly approached and grabbed Min Jiru. “Beautiful, get in the car. I’ll take you home.”

Min Jiru was abruptly pulled from her daze, startled to find a strange man yanking her along. “What are you doing? Let go of me! I don’t know you!”

As she turned to face him, the man’s eyes lit up at the sight of her. Instead of releasing her, he grabbed her with his other hand. “Come on, let’s go. I’ll take you home.”

Using his height and strength, he tried to force her into his car.

Only then did Min Jiru realize how deserted the area was—no one was around. The man’s intentions were chillingly clear.

Panicking, she struggled and screamed, “Let go of me! I’m calling the police!”

A screeching brake echoed from behind as someone leaped out of a car. “Let her go!”

The man froze, caught off guard by the sudden intervention. As he turned, a fist slammed into his face with a resounding crack. Stars exploded before his eyes. A second punch landed in his gut, doubling him over. Before he could cry out, a third punch shattered his nose, covering his face in blood. Clutching his bleeding nose, he collapsed to the ground.

Meng Xien charged at the man on the ground like an enraged lion, snarling and unleashing a torrent of punches and kicks.

When Min Jiru saw her, she froze in shock. “Xien?” Then, watching her beat the man like a madwoman, she feared Xien might accidentally kill him.

“Xien, Xien, stop hitting him!”

Meng Xien, pulled back by Min Jiru, delivered one last vicious kick before whirling around and seizing Min Jiru’s slender arm, dragging her away like a hawk carrying a chick. “Get in the car!”

In the car, Min Jiru glanced at Meng Xien, noticing her tightly pressed lips, as if suppressing a storm of emotions.

Min Jiru pressed her lips together, no longer crying. “You… you left. Why did you come back?”

Meng Xien replied coldly, “I’m a fool. Didn’t you know?”

She hadn’t gone far. After driving two blocks ahead, she’d turned around and kept her distance, watching as Min Jiru collapsed in exhaustion, weeping in the shadows of the trees.

She had cried for hours, and Meng Xien had watched for hours.

Her fingers tightened and relaxed on the steering wheel, over and over…

Seeing her once-beloved person, now disheveled and fragile as a withered leaf that might crumble at any moment, Meng Xien’s eyes burned crimson. She felt her heart had turned to stone.

Later, when that brazen pervert actually tried to abduct Min Jiru!

The fire in Meng Xien’s heart threatened to erupt. She was furious at the pervert for daring to grope someone in broad daylight, angry at herself for ever letting Min Jiru out of the car, and even more ashamed of herself. She was already 27 or 28—why was she still acting like a petulant teenager?

It was utterly childish and ridiculous!

Min Jiru’s heart was pierced by those cruel words. Fresh blood seeped from the wound, trickling deeper into her core.

“Don’t… don’t say that. Just drop me off at the intersection of Xingguang Road and Changping Road. I’ll walk home.”

Meng Xien scoffed, trembling with rage. “Walk home? It seems that pervert didn’t teach you enough. You won’t be satisfied until you’re dragged into a car, left in a place where no one can hear your cries for help, right?”

Min Jiru bit her lip like a child who had said or done something wrong, tears glistening in her eyes. “That’s not what I meant. I’m sorry…”

Tears glistened and fell silently onto the back of her hand resting on her leg, one after another. Min Jiru quickly turned her face away and wiped them away.

The tears pierced Meng Xien’s eyes, striking deep into her heart. She felt a sharp stab in her chest.

The raging, nameless fire inside her seemed doused by a bucket of cold water, extinguished in an instant.

Hearing that timid “I’m sorry” made Meng Xien’s heart ache even more. Her pale hands tightened on the steering wheel.

The car slowly pulled up to the entrance of Hefeng Court Complex. Noticing the unfamiliar vehicle, a security guard stepped out from the gate to ask for the unit number.

Min Jiru leaned forward to answer. “Unit 901, Building 10.”

The guard recorded the license plate information and waved them through.

Meng Xien parked the car and followed Min Jiru into the elevator, stopping at unit 901 before turning to leave.

“Wait,” Min Jiru said, tugging at her sleeve. “You’re injured. Let me help you.”

Meng Xien regained her usual courteous demeanor, her voice calm. “May I come in? Wouldn’t it be awkward if your boyfriend or girlfriend saw us?”

Min Jiru felt awkward. “I… I live alone.”

The door opened to a clean and tidy apartment. The floor gleamed, the sofa was spotless, and a plush teddy bear sat perched on it. Fresh flowers in a vase filled the living room with a faint floral scent, and a charming strawberry-shaped coaster lay beneath a glass on the table.

Meng Xien sat down on the sofa, her gaze sweeping the room. A wide floor-to-ceiling window dominated one wall, promising ample natural light and warmth during the day.

Min Jiru brought over her small medical kit and sat beside Meng Xien, gently taking her injured hand and placing it on her knee.

A deep cut ran across the back of Meng Xien’s right hand, exposing flesh and torn skin.

Meng Xien recalled the incident: she must have struck the man’s abdomen, the injury caused by a metallic ornament on his clothing. At the time, consumed by rage, she hadn’t even noticed the pain. Now, sitting still, the wound burned fiercely. Blood trickled down the creases of her palm to her wrist, then dripped into her sleeve, staining the pristine white cuff crimson.

Min Jiru lowered her head and carefully cleaned the wound, then reached for gauze and medical tape. Meng Xien, seeing her intention to bandage it, smiled faintly. “No need. It’s just a scratch. A band-aid will do.”

Min Jiru’s eyes reddened. The wound stretched from his knuckles to his wrist, leaving a bloody mess on the back of his hand. A band-aid would barely cover it.

“You should still wrap it to prevent infection.”

Holding his hand, Min Jiru’s long eyelashes trembled, glistening with tears. Even as she spoke, her eyes remained red.

Meng Xien stared into those trembling, tear-filled eyes, his heart softening. “It’s just a superficial wound,” he said gently. “I’m fine. Don’t cry.”

Min Jiru hummed in acknowledgment, keeping her head lowered. Her voice was muffled. “It just looks so painful.”

“You’re still as afraid of pain as ever,” Meng Xien said with a slight smile. “It’s not your pain. Why are you afraid?”

“It’s different,” Min Jiru shook her head. “You’re not just ‘someone else’.”

The room fell into an awkward silence.

Min Jiru flushed, stammering. “I-I mean… even if it’s someone else’s pain, it still hurts.”

With a thud, the medicine box tumbled onto the sofa. Meng Xien seized Min Jiru’s wrist and yanked her into her arms. Min Jiru, slender and petite, collapsed against her, overwhelmed by the warm, fragrant scent that flooded her senses.

For a moment, Min Jiru froze, her hands going limp against Meng Xien’s chest.

Meng Xien wrapped her arms tightly around the woman in her embrace, as if afraid she might escape. “I don’t want you to worry about others,” she murmured. “I want you to care only for me.” Her arms tightened further, her nose buried in Min Jiru’s hair as she took a deep breath.

Ten years had passed, but today, the scent she had yearned for in countless dreams, the warmth she had longed to hold, had finally become reality.

Min Jiru lay against her, her arms circling Meng Xien’s back in a tight embrace. Her head pressed against Meng Xien’s chest, she closed her eyes, listening to the strong, fierce heartbeat beneath her ear, tears welling in the corners of her eyes.

She cried and then smiled. Her Xien still cared for her, didn’t she?

In the dimly lit living room, bathed in the orange glow of the lamp, the two remained locked in a wordless embrace, as if reuniting after a long separation, desperately needing this closeness.

After an indeterminate time, Meng Xien released her and stood up. “It’s late. I should go. Get some rest.”

“Mm,” Min Jiru murmured, seeing her to the door.

Meng Xien placed her hand on the doorknob, preparing to leave. “If you’re living alone, be careful. Don’t open the door for strangers easily, and remember to check the doors and windows before you go to bed.”

A soft, snow-white hand pressed down on her hand on the doorknob. A petite figure threw herself forward, pinning Meng Xien against the door. A damp kiss landed on her slightly dry lips.

“Xien, I missed you so much.”

Tears streamed down Min Jiru’s snow-white cheeks as she bit her lip. Seizing the momentary distraction, she surged forward, kissing her passionately and fervently.

The sensation of their lips and teeth meeting was just as it had been ten years ago, when two high school girls in their school uniforms kissed secretly in a hidden corner behind a bookcase. Their breathing quickened, their hearts pounding like wild horses, their tongues entwined in an indescribable intimacy. The taste of first love was shy and sweet, soft and lingering.

A jolt of electricity ran through Meng Xien’s heart. She cupped Min Jiru’s face and swiftly took control. Soft lips captured equally soft lips in a deep, passionate kiss that lasted for what felt like an eternity.

After the long kiss, Min Jiru looped her arms around Meng Xien’s neck, clinging to her like a limp, pliant doll. A faint blush had crept onto her porcelain skin, and her beautiful eyes shimmered like lakes reflecting spring’s awakening.

“Xien, please don’t leave me,” she whispered, her pink lips brushing against Meng Xien’s pale neck. They traced the snowy, delicate skin below her ear, moving upward, the soft lips carrying a warm, moist heat that sent shivers through Meng Xien.

The tongue licked her pink earlobe hungrily, teeth gently nipped it, holding it between them, warm breath puffing against her ear.

Meng Xien shuddered violently, her breath catching. She abruptly swept Min Jiru into her arms, cradling her like a princess.

Min Jiru’s breathing was labored. “The bedroom is on the right.”

Min Jiru was gently laid on the bed. Meng Xien swiftly drew the curtains shut, then turned to switch off the bedside lamp.

“Don’t turn off the light,” the figure on the bed pleaded, her eyes shy and vulnerable, looking at her like a lamb. “I want to see you… really see you.”

Meng Xien removed her coat, leaving only her blouse. Her hair was disheveled, her red lips burning, her naturally cold features now radiating a seductive allure. When she leaned down to kiss, Min Jiru cupped her face, meeting the kiss with eager passion.

It was as if they had been waiting for this moment. Like dry wood ignited by flames, their kiss burned fiercely, hot and urgent.

The sound of their kisses, ragged breaths, and heavy panting intertwined, the air in the room growing increasingly heated.

Meng Xien greedily drank the nectar from Min Jiru’s lips, her arms tightly wrapped around the soft body in her arms as she relentlessly sought more. Min Jiru, suffocating from the intensity of the kiss, was forced to pull back slightly.

Meng Xien licked her dry lips, biting down gently and grinding them between her teeth. She knew she was entering a feverish state. Her usually cool, deep eyes were now hazy with a reddish tint, and her breath felt like it could set anything aflame.

Though they were already completely naked, Meng Xien still felt unbearably hot. The Alpha’s strong, muscular body burned fiercely, growing hotter and hotter. She bit her lip so hard that clear teeth marks marred her once-full lips, and she was about to draw blood. Yet she seemed oblivious to the pain, continuing to bite.

“Xien, are you in pain?” Min Jiru asked, her heart aching. She wrapped her arms around Meng Xien’s neck, kissing her cheeks, nose, and eyes, trying to soothe her with her kisses.

Min Jiru wondered if she was imagining the delicate fragrance of gardenias she seemed to catch. But as a Beta, she couldn’t detect Alpha or Omega pheromones.

Though she lacked the glands to produce Omega pheromones, she was willing to help Xien.

Min Jiru turned her head, her gaze lowering as her lips that was brushed against Meng Xien’s black hair, trailing down to the gland at the back of her neck. A distinct, reddened, raised ring marred her snow-white skin.

This was Min Jiru’s first time seeing an Alpha’s gland. Unable to resist, she reached out and touched it—soft, springy, and smooth, like jelly.

Meng Xien let out a soft moan at her touch, tightening her arms around Min Jiru’s waist.

Min Jiru withdrew her hand from the gland and leaned forward, her pink, delicate tongue flicking across the mysterious pink organ. With a deft curl of her tongue, she drew up the liquid seeping from the gland—pheromones dissolved in fluid.

A faint, delicate fragrance, like that of white orchids, filled her mouth.

Min Jiru licked the corners of her lips, her tongue growing more insistent as she lapped more vigorously at Meng Xien’s gland, even baring her pearl-like teeth to nibble.

The intense stimulation sent electric currents surging through Meng Xien’s body, making her tremble violently. As Min Jiru’s actions grew increasingly bold, Meng Xien suddenly pinned her down, pressing her beneath her weight. She roughly pushed aside the disheveled hair at the back of Min Jiru’s neck and bit down indiscriminately.

Min Jiru had no gland herself. Her milk-white neck, delicate and vulnerable, quickly drew blood. The crimson liquid trickled down her snowy skin like a fiery, seductive flower blooming in the snow.

Min Jiru clutched the quilt tightly, enduring the searing pain in her neck as she silently arched backward, allowing Meng Xien’s bite to deepen.

She wished to be marked by her Alpha, just like an Omega.

The hands gripping her waist began to move restlessly, as if possessed of a bewitching power that made her body yield helplessly to their touch.

Soon, Min Jiru felt not only the tearing pain of the bite on her neck, but another, more shameful pain. After the initial sting, a tingling sensation spread from that spot throughout her body.

Her breathing grew rapid and heavy, accompanied by the sound of their heated exchanges, enough to make anyone blush and their heart race.

The orange lamplight cast a soft glow over their bodies.

After an indeterminate amount of time, Meng Xien gradually regained her senses. She saw Min Jiru, her neck mangled by her bites, blood streaking down her snow-white skin to pool on her shoulders, back, and the sheets. Shame and regret filled her as her gaze drifted downward, taking in the crimson splatters on the pristine white sheets—like red plum blossoms against snow, piercing her vision.

Meng Xien froze, then looked at Min Jiru, lying on the bed with her eyes closed and chest heaving. Two deep crimson blushes stained her pale cheeks, the lingering aftermath of their earlier encounter.

She seemed to want to ask something, her lips moving slightly, but in the end, she didn’t ask. Instead, she reached into the tissue box beside the bed, pulled out two tissues, wiped her fingers dry, and quickly put on a robe. When she returned, she held a warm, damp towel.

“Let me wipe the blood off your neck.”

Min Jiru gave a shy, muffled agreement.

The blanket was pulled aside. Meng Xien carefully wiped the bloodstains from Min Jiru’s neck. The bite marks were deep, the skin broken, stark against her pale, delicate skin.

“I’m sorry. It’s my first time, and I lost control. I hurt you.”

Her first time.

Min Jiru opened her eyes, looking at her with a mixture of shyness and surprise. She bit her lip and turned away. “…It’s okay.”

A small thrill fluttered in her heart.

After a few seconds, she turned back, silently gazing at the gentle person before her.

The orange lamplight bathed her in a soft glow. The cold, distant aura she carried at work had vanished, replaced by the most tender, focused care—the same patience and attentiveness she’d always possessed.

After their kiss, the two young women, both in their teens, embraced tightly in the empty room. The ink scent of books, the floral fragrance drifting in through the window, the body scent of the girl in his arms, and the lingering sweetness of the kiss mingled in the air, stirring his senses.

Min Jiru, with her snow-white skin tinged with a healthy pink, nestled softly against Meng Xien like a snow doll, her breathing slightly labored.

“Xien, when we graduate from university, will you marry me?”

“Absolutely. It’s a promise. We’ll get married right after graduation. I want you to be my bride.”

The scene in his mind shifted. The young Meng Xien lowered his head to kiss the fine sheen of sweat on the adorable girl’s nose. “You’re all sweaty from running. You should run slower next time.”

“But I wanted to see you quickly!”

“I’m not running anywhere. I’m right here.” Meng Xien pulled out a soft tissue and gently wiped the sweat from her nose, neck, and behind her ears, his movements tender and meticulous. He smiled as he wiped, “Minmin, you’re such a snow doll—white, fragrant, and adorable. Snow dolls shouldn’t sweat; they’ll melt if they do.”

Wiping away the blood, Meng Xien lowered her head to inspect the wound on the back of Min Jiru’s neck. She stood up to fetch the first aid kit to apply ointment and stop the bleeding. But the moment she turned around, a gentle hand clasped her wrist. Meng Xien instinctively turned back, only to feel soft, fiery lips press against hers. A pale arm wrapped around her neck as the person pressed their entire body against her. “Xien, I love you, only you.”

The towel clattered to the floor, and the hastily donned robe was thrown aside.

Amidst their disheveled, hurried breathing, Meng Xien leaned down to kiss Min Jiru’s “snow doll.” Her scalding lips landed on Min Jiru’s face and lips, only to be met with equally fervent kisses. They parted briefly before the kisses trailed downward, across her chin, down her slender neck…

In that moment, Min Jiru became underwater kelp, tender yet passionate, embracing the sleek fish that had swum into her kelp forest. The fish was slender and graceful, its scales smooth and delicate, yet brimming with vitality and passion.

Fine beads of sweat mingled with rapid breaths as their snow-white bodies became entwined.

Slender fingertips delved into Min Jiru’s soft black hair, gripping tightly as her flushed face dared to kiss Meng Xien’s nose, cheeks, and finally her lips once more. Tears spilled from the corners of her eyes, sliding past her lips and mingling with the salty taste of their tightly pressed, crimson mouths.

This was her Xien, her one and only beloved Xien. During her ten years abroad, she had spent countless nights silently reciting his name, her heart heavy with guilt, pain, and helplessness. She would cry until she had no strength left, drifting off to sleep in tear-streaked exhaustion.

“What’s wrong? Does it hurt?” Meng Xien, seeing her tears, slowed her movements and kissed the tears from her cheeks.

“No, I’m just so happy. Is this a dream?”

Meng Xien chuckled softly, her breathing heavy. “No.”

“But… why?”

“Why would we dream together?” As she spoke, her kisses grew increasingly passionate and unrestrained.

Min Jiru quickly lost the power of speech. Her head arched back, her snow-white face flushed crimson, and soft moans escaped between her parted lips.

As pleasure peaked, she clung desperately to the woman above her, her lips parting slightly, as if on the brink of death, trembling more violently with each passing moment.

Consciousness faded, the world receding until only her Xien remained, loving her.

Just before darkness claimed her, she heard a ragged voice:

“I love you, Jiru. I love you!”