A White Cloud (GL ABO) - Chapter 19

Xiaomi lived in a place at the heart of the city’s stronghold, surrounded by government offices and towering financial buildings.

The distinctive high-rise stood out among the stern structures.

The apartment housed many prominent city figures, not just second-generation officials like Xiaomi but also numerous business elites.

Yuan Jin’s car was stopped by a barrier, but her face was her pass.

The guard at the gate recognized her instantly, saluted from the post, and said, “Miss Yuan.”

Yuan Jin nodded to him.

The Alpha guard stood upright, raised the barrier, and Yuan Jin thanked him, driving smoothly inside.

Most units were spacious, one per floor. As the elevator doors opened, Xiaomi saw a figure standing in the shadows.

Frequently traveling, she often stayed at Yuan Jin’s place near the research institute, forgetting Yuan Jin had a key here, one she had given her.

Xiaomi stepped out of the elevator in high heels, walked straight past without a glance.

As they brushed by, Yuan Jin grabbed her wrist, pulling her forcefully into an embrace.

Yuan Jin held her, her voice filled with helplessness, indulgence, and a hint of undeniable dominance, saying, “Zhiman, don’t be so stubborn.”

Yuan Jin called Zhiman as Xiaomi when her mind was a mess.

The corridor echoed with emptiness.

Though the post-rain chill couldn’t reach here, Yuan Jin felt the coldness surrounding Xiaomi.

She tightened her arms, holding her closer, trying to warm her in the cool early spring.

Xiaomi stirred in her arms but didn’t break free, instead saying flatly, “Yuan Jin, you think I’m being stubborn?”

Yuan Jin avoided the question, buried her face behind Xiaomi’s ear, and pleaded, “Zhiman, please don’t say that.”

Her lover’s clingy gesture pierced her heart.

Xiaomi controlled the tremor in her voice, saying, “Yuan Jin, you’re the one being stubborn.”

“I’m just a Beta without pheromones. I can’t even smell you. What love can we talk about?” she continued.

Xiaomi recalled Yuan Jin differentiating into an Alpha under everyone’s hopeful gazes.

They stood hand-in-hand amid the crowd, seen as a perfect match, having witnessed every stage of each other’s lives since birth.

She remembered Yuan Jin’s coming-of-age ceremony, boldly declaring to the world, “When Zhiman differentiates, we’ll marry.”

But by twenty, Xiaomi, still without a secondary gender, was confirmed a Beta.

Despite early pheromone tests suggesting she’d be an Omega, fate disagreed.

She remembered Yuan Jin secretly switching her research from special forces medicine to pheromone studies because of her lack of differentiation.

She remembered their first time, Yuan Jin sweating, struggling to enter her, comforting her despite her pain.

She remembered the changed looks from family elders, introducing their Omega daughters to Yuan Jin, praising their compatibility.

She remembered so much, yet Yuan Jin acted oblivious, buried in the lab.

But Xiaomi lacked the courage to complain.

She pushed Yuan Jin away and said, “Yuan Jin, you should hate me.”

Yuan Jin shook her head, trying to stop her words, but Xiaomi gave no chance.

“You all should hate me. Uncle and Auntie should hate me. If not for me, Xiao Hua wouldn’t have gone missing. If not for me, they wouldn’t worry about the Yuan family having no heir. If not for me, they could enjoy their years with grandchildren,” she said.

Tears streaked Xiaomi’s face. She refused Yuan Jin’s approach, turned her back, and opened the door.

The smart furniture sensed her return, lighting up warmly.

Wrapped in warm light, she left her silhouette to Yuan Jin.

“Yuan Jin, I’m sorry. I can’t let them lose you too,” she said.

So I can only leave you.

Sorry.

The closing door hid her figure, leaving a lonely shadow on the corridor floor.

***

Shen Zhiqing had a rare day off.

After Tomb Cheng left at midnight, she couldn’t sleep.

As a doctor, she knew the cause of her insomnia but had no solution, as the one who could resolve it was gone.

Getting out of bed, Shen Zhiqing wrapped a thin blanket around herself.

Her brown hair spilled over her bare shoulder.

Moving freely in the dark, she opened the door to the room near the living room, the master bedroom.

The adjacent room was now a study.

The master bedroom was empty, save for a workbench in the center.

Shen Zhiqing opened the workbench drawer, took out a photo album, and flipped through it page by page.

The early photos showed her before six, a tiny child on a swing, a refined lady pushing her, or talking to ants in the yard, her mother bringing her a new dress.

The woman in the photos overlapped with her memories.

Shen Zhiqing couldn’t distinguish them, gazing at the album, thinking without these photos, she’d nearly forget her mother’s face.

The album’s later pages were mostly blank.

She flipped to the last, a blurry printed image from somewhere, showing only a vague silhouette.

Shen Zhiqing’s fingertips traced the image, the plastic cover crinkling.

The silhouette seemed ordinary, but a bloodstain on the waist stood out.

She slid the image from the plastic, touched the bloodstain for a long time, then reluctantly placed it back.

At dawn, when Tomb Cheng left with Xu Yiyi, Shen Zhiqing listened behind her door to their movements.

Only after the elevator arrived and descended did she open her door.

At home, everyone awaited her.

The housekeeper opened the door, saying, “Miss Shen, you’re finally back. We prepared your favorite dishes, specially requested by Mr. Shen.”

Shen Zhiqing knew the housekeeper was humoring her.

Shen Zhihe wouldn’t mention her or care about her preferences, but she didn’t point it out, saying, “Thank you, you worked hard.”

The housekeeper took her things to the kitchen, smiling broadly.

Shen Mu lounged half-reclined on the sofa, his suit jacket tossed aside, shirt and tie askew, nothing like his polished institute persona.

“Sis, you’re back,” Shen Mu said, holding a game controller, glancing back briefly before focusing on his game.

She changed shoes, walked in, but before speaking, a woman’s voice came from the stairs, “Zhiqing’s back.”

Liao Ying wore a bright gold dress, as if afraid others wouldn’t know her wealth.

Shen Zhiqing couldn’t understand why Shen Zhihe insisted on marrying his first love, even defying opposition to wed her a year after his wife’s death.

Shen Zhiqing glanced at her faintly, replied politely, “Yes, Aunt Liao,” and said no more.

She always acted this way, and Liao Ying was used to it.

She walked past without further talk, instead scolding Shen Mu on the sofa, “No proper posture! Is this how an Alpha behaves?”

“Mom! Don’t pull my clothes!” Shen Mu shrank into the sofa, dodging Liao Ying’s tugs.

Shen Zhiqing sat calmly, watching their interaction, unmoved, quietly waiting for the lunch to begin.

Since her mother Fang Qing’s death, she lost interest in this family.

Shen Zhihe treated her decently, never harsh despite his remarriage and new child.

Liao Ying kept a safe distance.

Lunch began on time.

Shen Zhihe came downstairs precisely, and only when he sat did others pick up their chopsticks.

Shen Zhiqing sat far from him, wanting to end another dull family gathering quickly, but Shen Zhihe wasn’t letting her off easily.

Liao Ying served food to the three.

Shen Zhihe picked up a piece of bamboo shoot, looked at Shen Zhiqing, and asked, “How’s your consideration of the matter I mentioned?”

Silence fell over the table.

Shen Mu bit his chopstick, about to speak, but Liao Ying kicked him, and he sulked.

Shen Zhiqing chewed her food slowly, swallowed fully, wiped her mouth, and answered unhurriedly, “I won’t get engaged to him.”