Your Wife? Mine! - Chapter 2

The wound in her chest throbbed with a dull, persistent ache, but the painkillers Alice had administered before leaving were finally beginning to take hold. Under the weight of both physical and mental exhaustion, Shen Xi drifted into a fitful slumber.

Perhaps it was because Alice’s words had taken root in her mind, but as she slipped into unconsciousness, her awareness seemed to tunnel through time, plunging her back into that sweltering, sticky summer afternoon twelve years ago…

“Xiao Xi…”

“Xiao Xi…”

The woman’s gentle call was like a silk thread, winding tightly and endlessly around her consciousness.

The June rain clattered rhythmically against the corrugated metal roof. Damp heat, mingled with the faint scent of gunpowder, turned this converted shipping container into an isolated little world amidst a chaotic era.

In that half-awake state, Shen Xi forced her heavy eyelids open. Through blurred vision, she met a pair of eyes that held the misty beauty of a southern rainstorm.

It was Meng Xiyao.

At twenty, her features were soft and refined. Her long hair was pinned up loosely, though several damp strands clung to her flushed cheeks. She leaned in close, her voice as light as a feather brushing against Shen Xi’s heart. “Don’t be afraid. Look at me, A-Xi. Don’t be afraid.”

They were in the middle of being kidnapped. The commotion outside was a muffled roar, making this swaying container their only sanctuary in a desperate situation.

Shen Xi felt as though her entire body was on fire, a wildfire raging deep within her marrow. Her Alpha presentation had come without warning, far earlier and far more violent than anyone had anticipated.

“Sister… so hot… I’m so hot…”

Her throat was parched, her voice soft and rasping. Driven by instinct, she reached out and tightly seized Meng Xiyao’s wrist. That slender, cool wrist became the only lifeline she could grasp amidst the inferno consuming her.

Using what strength she had, Shen Xi lifted her head slightly, pressing her burning forehead against Meng Xiyao’s forearm, greedily drinking in that precious bit of coolness.

Meng Xiyao’s fingertips gently brushed the hair away from her forehead, her tone carrying a tenderness that felt like it could drown a person. “Endure it. I’m here.”

The faint, delicate scent of osmanthus began to drift from the woman, acting like a cool spring that temporarily doused the roiling heat inside Shen Xi.

But it wasn’t enough.

Driven by primal urge, Shen Xi pressed closer. Her palm slid up from Meng Xiyao’s wrist to encircle her slender waist, pulling the woman gently toward her. Shen Xi pressed her cheek against Meng Xiyao’s soft abdomen. The startling heat transferred through the thin fabric, drawing a sharp, stifled gasp from the older woman.

“Xiyao… Sister Xiyao…”

Shen Xi looked up at her, eyes shimmering with unshed tears and undisguised longing. She exerted a bit of force, using the raw power surging from her presentation to pull Meng Xiyao lower.

The Alpha’s nose brushed longingly against the side of the woman’s elegant neck; every breath was filled with that intoxicating osmanthus fragrance. Without waiting for a response, Shen Xi pressed her lips against that warm skin.

As they moved against each other, Shen Xi’s lips grazed a sensitive earlobe, and she felt the distinct, minute tremor that ran through Meng Xiyao’s body.

Meng Xiyao didn’t push her away. Instead, she reached out to gently cradle Shen Xi’s back, pulling her into an embrace that was both tender and indulgent. “Slowly, A-Xi.”

Those words acted as the final broken shackle.

Shen Xi could no longer restrain herself. Her arms tightened, locking the woman in a fierce embrace, and she sank her teeth in.

“Ngh!”

The woman gasped in pain, her body tensing instantly. She clutched at the hem of Shen Xi’s clothes, her breathing turning shallow and frantic…

Everything after that became a blurred, chaotic mess.

Shen Xi only remembered the woman’s warm hands covering her, churning the empty, burning heat into something thick, sticky, and damp…

“Xiyao…”

“Meng Xiyao…”

Shen Xi called the name over and over, curled into her embrace, trembling as she finally found release.

The moment she hit the peak, her entire body went rigid.

Suddenly, a jarring sensation of weightlessness yanked her out of that suffocating old dream. Shen Xi’s eyes snapped open. She stared at the ceiling. It was unfamiliar yet recognizable; her breath coming in short gasps, her heart hammering against her ribs.

“Heh… wheeze…”

She stared upward, chest heaving, soaked in a fresh layer of hot sweat.

Through the dullness of her eardrums, a persistent, muffled ringtone echoed incessantly. Shen Xi took a moment to steady herself before turning her head toward the bedside rail. Her phone screen was flashing stubbornly.

It was Shen Zhao, her elder sister.

Shen Xi grabbed the phone, wiped the sweat from her face with the back of her hand, and answered. “Hello…”

The moment the call connected, a woman’s voice that’s heavy with suppressed anger, exploded from the other end. Even with her impaired hearing, Shen Xi could clearly feel the oppressive Alpha pressure and the rage vibrating through the receiver.

“Shen Xi!”

“You’ve really outdone yourself this time, haven’t you?”

“If Dr. Alice hadn’t contacted the family to verify your medical records, I wouldn’t have even known you almost died in that godforsaken middle of nowhere!”

Chapter 3

“Grandma is about to celebrate her ninety-fifth birthday. Do you really want to make her attend her own granddaughter’s funeral?”

Shen Zhao’s voice was sharp with a mix of fury and urgency, her tone fraying at the edges with a tremor of lingering fear. “I’m telling you, don’t even think about brushing me off this time.”

“You stay put at that camp. Tomorrow—at the latest, tomorrow afternoon, the people I’ve sent will arrive to pick you up.”

“If you dare run, I’ll personally fly over there and break your legs!”

Click. Without waiting for a response, Shen Zhao hung up in a fit of rage, leaving behind nothing but a cold, rhythmic dial tone.

Shen Xi gripped the phone, listening to the mechanical beeping. She swallowed against her parched throat and let out a helpless sigh.

What a mess.

She raised a hand, covering her face.

The salty, briny scent of the sea air flooded her nose. Feeling the oppressive, humid heat of the camp, the chaotic and feverish dream from moments ago surged back into her mind.

Meng Xiyao’s gentle, accepting eyes; the sensation of those cool fingertips; her soothing whispers; and that camellia scent that was both grounding and heart-stirring… everything was as vivid as if it had happened yesterday.

Shen Xi snapped her hand down, clutching the edge of her blanket, and let out a sharp, frustrated cry: “Ah!”

She couldn’t take it anymore! She was going to lose her mind!

Staring up at the fluorescent light on the ceiling, an uncontrollable impulse, one she had suppressed for twelve long years, suddenly erupted in her chest.

She had to go back.

She had to see Meng Xiyao one more time. Even if it was just a glance. Just one look would be enough.

…

After wavering a hundred times, Shen Xi finally returned home.

On the morning of her grandmother’s ninety-fifth birthday, her flight touched down at the capital’s international airport. Twelve years had passed. As her feet stepped onto this familiar yet foreign soil, she breathed in the crisp, floral scent of the early summer night and felt herself take a deep, shaky breath.

An assistant dressed in a sharp black business suit hurried forward. “Miss Shen Xi, welcome back. President Shen is waiting for you in the car.”

Shen Xi gave a slight nod and followed the assistant silently toward the parking lot.

The door of a black Maybach stood open. Shen Zhao was seated in the back, her expression calm, though her eyes held a trace of deep-seated gloom that refused to lift.

“Eldest Sister,” Shen Xi murmured, stooping to get inside.

The moment the door clicked shut, Shen Zhao’s scolding burst forth like a floodgate opening. “You little brat, you finally realized you have a home? Huh?”

Her sharp gaze swept over Shen Xi before she pointed an accusing finger at the bridge of her nose. “Look at you! You’re nothing but skin and bone!”

“Is this family lacking food or clothes for you? The Shen family has such a massive empire; people would kill just to get a piece of it. But you? You throw away a perfectly good life to study medicine abroad and disappear for twelve years.”

The more she spoke, the angrier she became, her words coming faster and faster. “Studying medicine is one thing, but you were in the middle of your PhD and you ran off to be a Médecins Sans Frontières doctor without a word!”

“Is that a place for a human being? Constant shelling, stray bullets everywhere…”

Shen Zhao ranted on, desperate to vent years of pent-up resentment. Unfortunately, the explosions on the battlefield had damaged Shen Xi’s eardrums. Since she had taken off her invisible hearing aids, she simply let her sister’s words drift past her like the wind.

Only a few disconnected keywords hit her eardrums: “Home,” “Eight years,” “Doctors Without Borders,” “Injured,” “Grandma worried,” “Not allowed to leave again”…

Shen Xi kept her lashes lowered, her eyes fixed on her clasped hands. Her thumb unconsciously picked at the thin calluses on her palm. She gave non-committal hums and the occasional nod, but her thoughts had already drifted far away.

The streetscape outside the window retreated in a blur. The familiar camphor trees and the weathered old neighborhoods slowly pried open the rusted locks of her memory.

Twelve years ago, after escaping the kidnapping, Shen Xi had woken up in the hospital. Ignoring the doctors’ protests, she had ripped out her IV and stumbled toward Meng Xiyao’s ward.

When she pushed the door open, she saw Meng Xiyao leaning weakly against the headboard. A thick suppressant patch was stuck to the back of her neck, her face so pale it was almost translucent, her eyes filled with the exhaustion of a survivor.

And their cousin, Gu Hai, was holding a glass of warm water, pressing it to her lips while asking softly, “Do you still feel unwell?”

At that moment, Shen Xi felt like a thief caught red-handed.

The heat in her heart, the crushing guilt, and the fluttering pulse that had barely begun before being ruthlessly snuffed out. It all transformed into a gargantuan sense of panic. She chose the most pathetic way out: she turned and ran.

That flight had lasted twelve whole years.

Twelve years…

Shen Xi looked down at her hands, a sudden wave of cowardice washing over her. She pursed her lips, unable to stop the thought: Meng Xiyao, have these twelve years been kind to you?

Accompanied by Shen Zhao’s ceaseless nagging, the car eventually rolled into the Shen family estate. Deep within the lush greenery, a uniquely designed villa that’s shaped like a pristine white seashell, suddenly came into view.

Shen Xi’s body went rigid. Her heart began to pound uncontrollably.

She knew this villa. Five years ago, when Gu Hai and Meng Xiyao got married, Grandma had personally gifted them this house as their new home.

Meng Xiyao’s face flashed in her mind without warning. Shen Xi instinctively balled her hands into fists and leaned toward the window, her eyes hungrily searching for the figure etched into her very marrow.

As the car rounded the villa, a wide, green lawn stretched out.

A second later, a tiny figure in a pink dress ran out of the house. It was a little girl, maybe three or four years old, with two bouncy pigtails. She held a bright, colorful pinwheel in her hand and wore a massive grin as she chased a large Alaskan Malamute across the grass.

The sunlight draped over the child, outlining her in a fuzzy golden glow. Though she couldn’t see the girl’s face clearly or hear her voice, Shen Xi’s mind filled in the sound of silvery, energetic laughter.

Shen Xi’s heart plummeted. A powerful, ominous premonition gripped her breath.

“Who is that child?” Shen Xi asked, her voice suddenly tight, cutting through her sister’s ongoing lecture. “A relative of our cousin?”

Shen Zhao, interrupted, followed her gaze out the window.

“Oh…” When Shen Zhao spoke again, her tone was as casual as if she were discussing the weather. “That’s your elder cousin’s daughter. Her name is Little Wutong.”

Shen Xi’s heart sank into a bottomless abyss.

Her fingertips dug painfully into her palms. She stared fixedly at that joyful little figure, her breathing becoming labored and difficult.

Shen Zhao, seemingly oblivious to her distress, added another casual remark: “You still remember Meng Xiyao, right?”

“She and your cousin married five years ago. Little Wutong is the child they had together.”

The child they had together.

Those words were like shards of ice, stabbing with pinpoint accuracy into Shen Xi’s heart.

Jealousy flooded her, overwhelming her senses. Her reason was crumbling; she was on the verge of losing control. Watching that tiny figure sprinting across the grass, Shen Xi clenched her fists until her nails drew blood. Her eyes burned with a fierce, roiling mixture of indignation and pure envy.

That should have been my child. Mine and Meng Xiyao’s!

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