A Sweet Soft Alpha and a Psycho-Beauty Go Viral Online (GL) - Chapter 13

The early morning air in the room was still thick with the scent of last night’s passion.

The little devil costume Yu Wanyin had worn was torn and discarded on the floor. The matching devil tail and headband had been tossed aside somewhere, who knew where. Her neck and arms bore faint purplish marks from being tied up, evidence of Qiao Sanghe’s handiwork. Her long black hair was tangled around her waist, and her whole body ached with a dull soreness and swelling.

Last night, Qiao Sanghe had been completely unrestrained—wild, almost manic. Wanyin didn’t know what had triggered it, or what made her suddenly so obsessed with that kind of intensity. It had come out of nowhere.

She stretched a little, wincing as the soreness flared up. She’d already applied some ointment to the surface bruises. Honestly, these minor injuries were nothing to her. In the past, when she got hurt, she’d never used any medication—she couldn’t afford it. She would just grit her teeth and wait for the wounds to heal on their own. As long as her body wasn’t broken, it would recover—even from far worse.

Now, though, Qiao Sanghe insisted on treating even the smallest scrape. Looking at the bruises—each one left by Sanghe—Wanyin couldn’t help but think: this woman was full of contradictions. Tender one moment, intense the next. You could never truly predict her.

Just as she finished applying the medicine, her phone rang. It was Sister Han calling.

On the other end, Sister Han told her that Qiao Sanghe had arranged for both domestic and international specialists to conduct a joint consultation for her sister. With this level of expert care, there was no need to worry—the success rate of the transplant would be significantly improved.

Yu Wanyin was stunned, then overjoyed. It was in that moment that she truly understood the vast divide between ordinary people and the world of celebrities and the wealthy.

If it wasn’t for Qiao Sanghe, she could never have afforded such elite medical resources for her sister.

Internationally renowned specialists—people most would never even see in their lifetime—had been brought in with a single word from Sanghe. That was the kind of unreachable gap that ordinary people could only dream of crossing.

But Wanyin didn’t see it as oppressive privilege. At the very least, Qiao Sanghe had genuinely helped her. She had wholeheartedly done everything to save her sister.

From the moment Sanghe stepped in, Xiaoya had been moved into the best ward, given the best medication, and received the highest level of care. Everything—everything—was the best.

During her last video call with Xiaoya, she could already see the improvement in her sister’s condition. Her spirit had lifted, her health stabilized. Now all they needed was for the surgery to happen.

Wanyin had been waiting for this day for so long. She just wanted her sister to live like a normal person again. If that could happen, she was willing to do anything.

Qiao Sanghe had covered so much of the cost. If Wanyin were to repay it through regular work, it would take her decades—and even then, she might never catch up.

So she would always be grateful to Qiao Sanghe. She would do anything for her—without hesitation.

________________________________________

Soon, the day of the surgery arrived.

Yu Wanyin was even more anxious than her sister. Her heart had been in her throat since morning, impossible to calm. She couldn’t stop worrying that something might go wrong during the operation.

Qiao Sanghe, a public figure who rarely showed up in person for anything, accompanied her to the hospital that day.

When Yu Xiaoya caught sight of Sanghe, she was instantly curious. Though her face was pale and frail, her eyes—so similar to Wanyin’s—were bright and clear. The illness had not extinguished her hope. She still hadn’t given up the fight.

She knew her condition would require an astronomical amount of money. She and her sister had already run out of funds and were prepared to be discharged and give up treatment. Then, out of nowhere, a mysterious benefactor paid for her VIP room and covered her medical bills.

Xiaoya might have been young, but she wasn’t clueless. Her sister told her she’d taken on a high-paying job, which was how she could afford everything—but what kind of job could bring in that kind of money so quickly? It was hard not to be suspicious.

When she saw Qiao Sanghe appear beside her sister, she immediately understood.

And just like that, she warmed to her instantly.

“Jie, is this beautiful lady your friend? She has such a graceful aura,” she asked curiously.

“Be polite, Xiaoya. This is my boss,” Wanyin quickly explained, worried Sanghe might be bothered by the question.

But when Sanghe looked at Xiaoya—those eyes so much like Wanyin’s—she couldn’t bring herself to be cold. Her tone softened in a way that was rare for her.

“No, she’s right. We are friends,” Sanghe said calmly.

Xiaoya lit up. “You’re the one who paid for my surgery, right? Thank you so much!”

If not for her, Xiaoya might never have gotten a chance at the operation.

Sanghe nodded. “Yes. But you have to cooperate with the treatment, okay? Recover quickly. Your sister’s job is going to be quite busy from now on. Only if you’re well can she focus and work hard without worrying about you.”

“I will! I promise I’ll get better,” Xiaoya said, full of determination.

As Xiaoya was wheeled into surgery, Wanyin’s nerves were fraying. She clenched her fists tightly, heart pounding.

Then a warm hand gently took hers.

Qiao Sanghe’s touch was steady and calm—offering quiet comfort.

“Don’t worry,” Sanghe said softly, an unusual gentleness in her voice. “I brought in the best experts I could. Everything will go smoothly.”

“Thank you…” Wanyin said quietly, unable to say more through the tightness in her chest. She could only offer her deepest gratitude in the simplest words.

“You don’t need to thank me.”

Sanghe knew everything Wanyin had endured. Anyone who understood her story would sympathize with her.

Though Sanghe usually appeared cold and aloof, she wasn’t emotionless. At least—not when it came to Wanyin. Right now, she was the one person Sanghe truly cared about.

She wanted to help her—because Wanyin mattered.

________________________________________

The minutes dragged. Four hours passed. It felt like waiting for a verdict.

Wanyin’s hands were stiff from how tightly she’d been holding them together.

Finally, the lead surgeon emerged from the operating room.

She and Sanghe rushed over.

“Doctor—how did it go? How’s my sister?” she asked, breath held.

“The transplant was a success,” the doctor said with a calm smile. “There will still be a monitoring period for possible rejection, but since we did multiple compatibility checks beforehand, the chances are low. If she makes it through recovery, she’ll be able to live a normal lifespan.”

Wanyin’s eyes welled with tears of relief. Her knees nearly buckled.

“It worked… It really worked,” she whispered, barely believing it.

“Told you,” Sanghe said with a slight smile, rolling her eyes affectionately. “I hired the best. Of course it worked.”

“You were right, I just… I was so scared. I couldn’t help it. I’m sorry,” Wanyin said, laughing and crying at the same time. “I want to hug you—can I?”

She raised her arms, then hesitated, unsure if Sanghe would allow it. Her excitement warred with caution.

But Sanghe only looked at her, slightly helpless, and said with a rare softness, “Alright… Just this once.”

“Okay.”

Wanyin laughed, pulled her into a tight hug—and in the next second, she leaned in and kissed her.

Caught off guard, Qiao Sanghe let out a small, surprised gasp.

Her eyes glimmered, filled with playful reproach, as if to say:
So you’ve learned to sneak attack, huh?