Your Wife? Mine! - Chapter 7

Shen Xi took a seat on the studio sofa as instructed, the soft leather supporting her rigid body. The room was filled with familiar scents—they felt like a rain of arrows flying toward her, making her feel as though she were sitting on pins and needles.

The housekeeper silently brought over black tea and a plate of delicate macarons. The rising steam carried a faint bergamot aroma, yet it did nothing to soothe the anxiety roiling in her chest. As her fingers restlessly picked at the seam of the sofa, her eyes darted toward Meng Xiyao with a mix of desperation and greed.

Meng Xiyao remained turned away, her brush making a few final strokes on the canvas. Her voice was flat. “One moment. I’m almost finished.”

Gazing at her focused profile, Shen Xi felt herself slipping back into their youth.

Meng Xiyao’s Omega mother had been a skilled artist at a prestigious studio, but she had passed away from brain cancer when Xiyao was only six. Meng Xiyao had inherited her talent, showing extraordinary skill from a young age. After coming to the Shen family, Shen Shaohua had spared no effort in cultivating her talent. By fourteen, she was studying under a grandmaster, her ink-wash style becoming renowned for its ethereal beauty.

Over the years, even without intentionally digging into her life, Shen Xi knew Xiyao had long since established her own path—founding an art firm and serving as an advisor for the Shen Group’s auction house. She was truly successful.

Compared to her, Shen Xi’s own achievements felt somewhat ordinary. However, Shen Xi didn’t feel inferior; she was quite satisfied with the life she had chosen. But looking at the woman before her, watching her focused and captivating demeanor, threads of regret tangled in her heart. She had missed so many of those brilliant moments of growth over the last twelve years. Because of her cowardice, she had missed far too much.

Shen Xi’s gaze, as if pulled by invisible strings, lingered hungrily on Xiyao’s back. The sunlight traced the soft curve of the woman’s shoulders, and every small movement of her hand carried a quiet rhythm.

The Alpha’s gaze was so intense it was nearly a brand. Her own scent—cold pine—unconsciously began to drift outward, naturally trying to envelop the Omega she had once marked.

Eventually, the pressure of that gaze made it impossible for Meng Xiyao to focus. A strange, inexplicable irritation rose within her. She took a deep breath, set down her brush, and stood up to head toward the sofa.

The moment she turned, she met a pair of expectant eyes.

The Alpha sat there in a loose, casual brown suit. She was tall and slender, her black hair falling like a waterfall, looking almost gaunt. Compared to the soft-edged girl of twelve years ago, her face had lost its baby fat, leaving behind refined features and a sharp, bone-deep intensity. She was like a blade sheathed but still dangerous—just standing there, she felt like she might break through the scabbard and pierce one’s heart at any moment.

In truth, as she looked properly at that face, Meng Xiyao felt a sharp, heart-wrenching pang.

Twelve years. She thought she had long since sealed this face and this person away in the dust of her memories, abandoned forever. Yet, with Shen Xi standing here in the flesh, the fortifications she thought were so strong wavered with pathetic ease.

Meng Xiyao inhaled softly, suppressing the surge of emotion. She hid it well, her face remaining its usual mask of gentle composure. She sat on the sofa opposite Shen Xi, her voice soft but distant. “I’m sorry to have kept you waiting.”

“It’s fine,” Shen Xi replied with a dry, awkward smile.

Seeing that familiar smile only made Meng Xiyao feel more unsettled. In an attempt to hide it, she reached for the teapot to pour herself a cup. The moment she moved, the Alpha leaned forward, opened the lid for her, and handed her the cup.

Meng Xiyao: “…”

Facing an Alpha who was still so startlingly familiar, she murmured a soft, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” The Alpha smiled again, this time looking a bit more natural.

After pouring two cups and pushing one toward Shen Xi, Meng Xiyao took a sip. She moistened her throat and went straight to the point. “Did you need something today?”

Shen Xi straightened up, clasping her hands over her knees, and spoke hesitantly. “I came to apologize. About last night…”

“Oh, I see,” Meng Xiyao interrupted smoothly, her tone indifferent as if discussing something that didn’t concern her. “Actually, that’s between you and Gu Hai. You should speak to her directly.”

“I thought about that…” Shen Xi paused, forcing down the disgust that welled up at the mention of that name. “But I don’t want to see her again. So, I was hoping you could help me pass on this apology gift… and a message.”

The Alpha paused, taking a sip of tea and feigning a casual air. “After all, you two are partners.”

When she reached the word “partners,” her voice turned stiff and awkward.

Meng Xiyao caught the subtle shift in emotion and looked up at her. The Alpha was pretending everything was normal as she added, “Whatever you say… she’ll probably listen.”

Meng Xiyao knew this expression far too well. Even after twelve years, Shen Xi—raised under the absolute adoration of her family had never learned how to perfectly hide her feelings. Whether it was the affection and dependency of the past, or the jealousy and resentment that were nearly overflowing now, it was all so vivid and glaring.

It caught Meng Xiyao off guard. She had assumed that the Alpha’s affection had ended the day she finished her second gender differentiation and fled the country.

Otherwise… Why had there been no contact for twelve years? Why had there been no reaction even when she got married?

Looking at the Alpha’s usual display of jealousy and stubbornness, Meng Xiyao felt a complex swirl of emotions. Her fingers tightened almost imperceptibly around her teacup, her tips turning white.

After a pause, she gave a low, “I see.”

Shen Xi immediately looked relieved and grateful. “Thank you, Sister Xiyao.”

The Alpha wore a bright smile, looking like a puppy eager to please its master, her eyes shining.

Seeing this only made Meng Xiyao’s emotions more tangled. The air was thick with the scent of cold pine radiating from the Alpha, making it hard for her to catch her breath. She gave a small, distant nod. “I see.”

Perhaps sensing she was being too cold, she added, “I’ll pass it on to her… your apology.”

At those words, Shen Xi’s smile vanished. She took another slow sip of tea. An awkward silence stretched between them, and Shen Xi began to feel as though she were sitting on a bed of nails. She set her cup down and stood up, feigning interest as she paced around the studio, desperate to break the quiet.

“It’s a great studio. The decor is beautiful. Did you design it yourself? It really captures your style.”

With every step the Alpha took, the wooden floorboards emitted a soft clack-clack that seemed to sync with the rhythm of Meng Xiyao’s heartbeat.

Meng Xiyao sat poised on the sofa, head bowed as she stirred her tea with a small spoon, her gaze fixed on the swirling amber liquid. The rich aroma of the tea mingled with the scent of pine, making her feel momentarily dazed. Her thoughts drifted for a second before she pulled herself back.

“No,” she said softly. “The interior design… Ah Hai handled all of that.”

At the mention of “Ah Hai,” Shen Xi whipped her head around to look at her. But Meng Xiyao kept her eyes lowered, her expression unreadable. “When we got married, I was preparing for my doctoral graduation. I was quite busy… so…”

Shen Xi understood immediately, and in an instant, the entire room felt loathsome to her. How repulsive, she thought. Her gaze swept over the artwork hanging on the walls, and she pressed further: “And these paintings… are they all yours?”

“Yes.”

The answer was succinct. Thinking she had finally found a safe topic, Shen Xi began to offer sincere praise. “Your technique is incredible. You’ve improved so much, Sister Xiyao. I really love—”

She went on for a while, but Meng Xiyao ended the conversation with just two words: “Thank you.”

Shen Xi fell silent. Not willing to let the interaction die, she turned back and asked, “Since your work is so beautiful, have you thought about holding an exhibition?”

“I’ve held one every year since I finished my master’s.”

Shen Xi: “…”

A wave of massive embarrassment nearly drowned her. She stared at the cracks in the wooden floor, wishing she could shove herself inside one. At the same time, a familiar heat began to rise from the soles of her feet like tiny flickers of flame darting through her veins, leaving her restless and agitated.

Say something! Think of something to say!

Shen Xi looked up, her gaze darting around frantically until it landed on the easel Meng Xiyao had been working on. It was a nearly finished spring landscape, warm and serene in tone. Catching it like a lifeline, she pointed at the painting, her voice sharp with a reckless sort of urgency.

“I really like this one. When it’s finished, could you give it to me to decorate my place? I’ve just moved back, and the house is so empty, so…”

Meng Xiyao followed her gesture toward the window. Her voice remained calm, but her words made Shen Xi want to curl up and die. “Not this one. I promised it to Ah Hai. She wants to frame it for her office.”

She turned to look at Shen Xi, her gaze steady. “You can pick another one.”

The expression on Shen Xi’s face froze. It was like a bucket of ice water had been thrown over her; even her forced composure shattered. The light in her eyes died out. Her lips twitched, and she finally squeezed out a dry, hollow syllable: “…I see.”

She didn’t look at the painting again. To end this self-inflicted humiliation as quickly as possible, she pointed randomly at a small still-life in the corner. “Then… I’ll take that one,” she said, her voice dropping.

“Alright. I’ll have someone send it over later.”

“No need,” Shen Xi refused instantly. She strode over, took the painting down herself, and clutched it to her chest. “I’ll take it now.”

Clutching the painting like a shield to cover her shame, she practically fled the room, her goodbye hurried and clumsy.

Meng Xiyao sat alone on the sofa, listening to the hurried footsteps fading downstairs. She didn’t move for a long time. Eventually, she stood and walked slowly to the window. Through the clear glass, she saw Shen Xi rushing out of the villa. The Alpha’s thin silhouette looked lonely in the sunlight. When she reached the heavy iron gates of the estate, she suddenly stopped.

A moment later, she raised her foot and kicked the solid iron gate with all her might, as if venting her fury.

“God dammit! Dammit!”

Shen Xi kicked the gate several times, so violently that she nearly dropped the painting. Her retreating figure was a portrait of frustration and defeat, like a child who didn’t know how to handle her own anger.

Just like before, she was completely incapable of hiding her emotions.

Meng Xiyao found it fascinating. Watching the scene, the corner of her mouth quivered into a faint, fleeting smile. It vanished as quickly as a stone sinking into a lake, leaving only a ripple before disappearing. Her eyes turned cold again, deeper and more complex than before.

Since you stayed away for twelve years since you were so determined to leave without a word why did you come back?

Shen Xi… what exactly are you trying to do?

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