A White Cloud (GL ABO) - Chapter 37

Xiao Yang called, “Xiaohua, Xiaohua, come here.”

Four-year-old Zhiman, her cheeks glowing with a bright smile, held a younger girl’s hand as they ran toward the amusement park.

The pink puffy skirts of the two little princesses fluttered in the breeze from their running.

Zhiman turned to look at her younger sister behind her.

Yuan Hua’s face flushed red, like two small blooming flowers.

She clung to her sister’s hand, her voice soft and sticky, saying, “Zhiman, Sister.”

This was a newly built amusement park near Huazhong Affiliated Primary School.

Zhiman had visited when her mother took her to see the older sister surnamed Shen.

Yuan Hua’s birthday was approaching.

Little Zhiman, wanting to give her sister a special gift, sneaked her out while Yuan Jin practiced piano.

Early September’s weather felt mild.

The sunlight warmed their bodies just right.

Yuan Hua still wore a fever patch on her forehead.

The amusement park buzzed with people.

Yuan Hua’s chubby legs pattered, hopping to keep up with her sister.

She called, “Sister.”

Not yet three, her speech carried a hint of drool, but she clearly said Zhiman’s name.

Five meters away, an officer uncle followed.

Though in casual clothes, his stern expression looked scary.

Zhiman pouted, telling him not to come too close, saying, “Stay back! You’ll scare Xiaohua!”

The officer said, “Miss.”

He felt a headache.

The military commissar’s little darling had a tough personality, and the other, the granddaughter of Commander Yuan, demanded extra care.

Amid Zhiman’s complaints, the officer stepped back further, watching the two girls from ten meters away.

—

Zhiman cried, “Xiaohua! Xiaohua!”

On the recliner, she struggled to escape a nightmare.

Su Jue glanced at the wall clock.

Only ten minutes of light sleep had passed.

She frowned, worried about Zhiman’s mental state.

Su Jue offered, “Drink some water first.”

Zhiman’s face looked pale, sweat beading on her forehead and neck.

She took the paper cup Su Jue handed her, staying silent.

Su Jue sat across, waiting for her to stabilize before gently asking, “Do you remember the dream’s scenes?”

As a child, Su Jue lived elsewhere with her father’s family, not part of their circle.

Her father’s job transfer brought her to her mother’s hometown.

She met Shen Zhiqing in college but barely knew Yuan Jin, let alone Yuan Hua, Yuan Jin’s long-lost younger sister.

Recalling the day Yuan Hua disappeared, Zhiman remembered Yuan Hua tugging her hand, saying, “Sister, I want ice cream.” After slipping out a bathroom window to ditch the bodyguard for ice cream, Zhiman turned back, and Yuan Hua was gone.

Zhiman said, “Xiaohua had a fever that day.”

Thinking of it, her emotions trembled; tears welled in her eyes.

“I insisted on taking her there, so she got lost.”

The Omega wept, tears streaming.

Yuan Hua’s loss weighed like a mountain, suffocating her for years.

Her two-year-old sister vanished because of her.

In nightly dreams, Zhiman saw Yuan Hua reaching out, asking why Zhiman didn’t want her.

Zhiman sobbed, gasping, unable to speak.

The refined Omega, with her perfect makeup, became like shattered, colorless glass.

Each breath carved a new scar in her heart.

Su Jue silently handed her a tissue.

himan’s illness had many causes, too tangled, but it always traced back to Yuan Hua, the lost second daughter of the Yuan family.

When Zhiman’s emotions settled, Su Jue hesitated at the door.

Zhiman asked, “Aren’t you my doctor?”

She shed her fragile look, regaining poise and competence.

As the youngest chief translator at the Foreign Ministry and deputy director of the Spanish Language Division, she was decisive, admired as excellent, beautiful, intellectual, and precise.

Her direct speech shone in interviews, witty and sharp.

Now, she aimed that work attitude at her doctor, despite Su Jue seeing her vulnerability moments ago, saying, “What? Worried about ruining your reputation?”

Su Jue caught the provocation in her words, feeling relieved.

She feared Zhiman might be too fragile to withstand a breeze.

Su Jue replied slowly, “You’ve got energy to jab at me, so you’re still conscious.”

She continued, “As your doctor, I suggest avoiding people or things that trigger you until you’re healed.”

She left it vague, knowing Zhiman, smart, understood her meaning.

Zhiman’s illness seemed simple—guilt over Yuan Hua.

But broadly, her tangled feelings with Yuan Jin and interactions with Yuan Jin and the Yuan family reminded her she was a wrongdoer.

Her mistake lingered. Staying with Yuan Jin only deepened her and Yuan Jin’s pain.

Standing by Yuan Jin tore open the Yuan parents’ healing scars again and again.

Leaving the hospital, Zhiman wandered, unsure where to go.

Tomb Cheng took Xu Yiyi to an art studio, messaging her.

Shen Zhiqing, working, gave her house keys, but Zhiman didn’t want to return there or to her apartment.

After thinking, Zhiman took a taxi to a bar in the south of the city.

The staff, preparing drinks and food, greeted her respectfully upon arrival.

Called a bar, it felt more like a music diner, open 24 hours.

The ground floor had scattered tables and a bar counter, the second floor had sofa booths and an open kitchen.

The third floor was private—Lin Momo’s secret base.

Soft music played.

A few customers dined and chatted.

Zhiman went upstairs, having confirmed Lin Momo was tinkering with something in her base.

Lin Momo said, “Zhiman, you’re here.”

She sat cross-legged on the floor, focused on a toy—a fifth-generation Lego robot, unfinished, with parts exposed.

Zhiman tossed her bag aside, half-sitting, half-lying on the sofa, replying weakly, “Yeah.”

Lin Momo, the only Alpha in their sister group, had unique hobbies and a gentle nature, not fitting with other Alphas.

She bonded with the Omegas and Betas instead.

The secret base overflowed with anime and game posters, neat racks of character costumes, odd cartoon plush toys, figurines, and a slime beside a beautiful girl model.

Zhiman grabbed a cushion for her back, prompting Lin Momo to exclaim, “Ah! Zhiman, be gentle with my fifth wife.”

Zhiman, holding the idol-printed cushion, fell speechless.