After the Divorce, the Heiress Omega Regretted It - Chapter 12

Qin Yiwan pointed at herself with a smile, but the amusement quickly vanished. Her expression grew cold and sharp, and without warning, she threw a punch at Luo Yunye.

“Aren’t you supposed to be her guardian angel? Where were you when she needed you?”

The tightly clenched fist, veins standing out on her knuckles, flew toward Luo Yunye’s face. Luo Yunye’s eyes widened slightly, and, acting purely on instinct, she leaned back just in time to avoid the blow.

Before she could fully rise, Qin Yiwan’s long leg swept sideways toward her. Luo Yunye braced a hand on the ground and flipped backward, narrowly dodging the kick. As soon as she regained her balance, another punch came straight at her, swift and fierce.

“I was delayed. I didn’t mean to be late,” Luo Yunye said, dodging again.

She hadn’t expected Qin Yiwan to be so agile. Their flurry of exchanges demanded total concentration—one slip and she’d be hit.

“If she wasn’t the most important person to you, then you never should’ve gotten involved. You led her on.”

But Qin Yiwan had underestimated Luo Yunye. After traveling through countless books and mastering countless fighting techniques, evading attacks had become second nature to her. Though she stayed on the defensive and didn’t fight back, every one of Qin Yiwan’s strikes missed.

Soon, the physical gap between them started to show. Luo Yunye’s alpha physique gave her an endurance advantage.

Qin Yiwan began to slow. Her punches lost their force, her steps were less steady, while Luo Yunye remained calm and collected, not even winded.

Seeing her tired, Luo Yunye seized the moment. She grabbed Qin Yiwan’s wrists, twisted them gently, and locked her in a firm hold.

Qin Yiwan wasn’t as strong, and the more she struggled, the tighter Luo Yunye’s grip became. Wincing in pain, she tried to kick backward, but her ankle was caught. In the end, she was completely trapped in Luo Yunye’s arms, unable to move.

Panting, she glared sideways, her voice sharp with anger. “Bullying a high schooler. Really impressive.”

Luo Yunye loosened her grip slightly, keeping a respectful distance. Seeing Qin Yiwan’s frustration at losing, she chuckled softly. “Funny, you weren’t calling yourself a high schooler when you were throwing punches. Honestly, only I would put up with you. Anyone else would be lying on the floor like those two pigs you just dealt with.”

Her teasing tone, filled with indulgent affection, made Qin Yiwan flush and look away. Even the tips of her ears were red.

“Let go of me!”

Their fight had been intense—both of them were covered in sweat, their bodies radiating heat. The contact felt like too much, too close, and too intimate.

Luo Yunye let go. Qin Yiwan, now free, immediately tried to elbow her, but Luo Yunye, as if expecting it, blocked her easily. The two separated again.

Qin Yiwan stepped back, rubbing her sore wrists, watching Luo Yunye warily.

Luo Yunye paced around slowly, her eyes scanning Qin Yiwan up and down again and again.

It really was the same face, the same girl—but the temperament was entirely different. She was Qin Yiwan, and yet… not.

“You’re… her second personality?” Luo Yunye finally asked.

Qin Yiwan shot her a side-eye. “And if I am?”

“I just think it’s kind of fascinating,” Luo Yunye grinned. “Like… marrying one woman and getting another one free.”

That clearly struck a nerve.

“Who’s your wife? We never agreed to let you marry into the Qin family!”

Luo Yunye spread her hands innocently, feigning helplessness. “Well, too bad. Whether you agreed or not, the marriage certificate’s signed and sealed. We’re legally married. Not to mention, we’re already sharing a bed, holding hands in our sleep.”

Qin Yiwan fumed. Her chest heaved with frustration as she shut her eyes and took a deep breath, forcing herself not to lash out again.

If she weren’t certain she’d lose in another fight, she wouldn’t waste time talking.

“In short, the real Qin Yiwan doesn’t agree to this marriage. If you have any decency, you’ll stay away from her.”

She saw a gentle smile on Luo Yunye’s face, her eyes shining like stars. Then Luo Yunye tilted Qin Yiwan’s chin with a light touch.

“Is it Qin Yiwan’s main personality who disagrees,” she asked, her voice teasing, “or is it you?”

“Because from where I stand, her main personality doesn’t seem all that against this marriage, not like you said.”

No one had ever tilted Qin Yiwan’s chin like that before—let alone spoken to her in such a flirtatious, ambiguous tone. Almost instinctively, she raised her hand and slapped Luo Yunye’s hand away.

Smack.

A crisp sound broke the silence in the room.

“Luo Yunye,” she said coldly, “don’t think that just because we’ve got a marriage certificate, you can put your hands on me. I told you—I don’t agree to this marriage. Don’t touch me.”

“I’ve said it too,” Luo Yunye replied, her voice suddenly colder. “Let her main personality come out.”

The smile vanished from her face. When she looked at someone without it, her narrow, fox-like eyes turned icy—so cold it sent a chill down your spine.

The two stared each other down, neither backing off. In the end, it was Qin Yiwan who gave in first. She turned her face away, lowering her eyes, her expression tinged with frustration.

“She’s been asleep for a long time,” she said quietly. “I don’t even know how to wake her.”

The last time Luo Yunye had seen Qin Yiwan was back in middle school. She’d assumed that Qin Yiwan had fallen into dormancy even back then. She had no idea how much time had passed or what had happened in between.

Her brows drew together in a tight frown. Regret flooded her—regret that she hadn’t entered the dream world sooner, regret for all the time she’d missed with Qin Yiwan.

Qin Yiwan, watching Luo Yunye cover her face with a hand and reveal a remorseful expression, grew instantly alert. She stared at her warily, bracing for whatever strange thing this clearly unstable woman might do next.

She might be a little crazy herself, but it was still instinctive to be on guard against someone even crazier.

Luo Yunye dropped her hand and took a deep breath. When she looked over, Qin Yiwan visibly tensed, watching her with the kind of expression reserved for lunatics.

Luo Yunye blinked and smiled. “Relax. Most of the time, I’m perfectly normal—except for those occasional moments when I’m not.”

What kind of nonsense was that?

Qin Yiwan’s eyebrows furrowed deeply, her face full of obvious disdain.

Luo Yunye ignored the look and glanced around the room. “Why don’t we leave this place first?”

They stepped out one after the other. The secluded cabin was nestled in a reed field on the outskirts of the city. The view was wide open, the sky clear and bright. As soon as they stepped outside, a full moon greeted them in the deep indigo sky, and upon closer look, countless twinkling stars appeared—like little eyes blinking in the dark.

Luo Yunye looked up and sighed. “The stars may glitter,” she said, “but they pale beside the lonely brilliance of the moon.”

Qin Yiwan turned to look at her. Under the moonlight, her features became even more defined—sharp, striking. A beautiful Alpha. No wonder someone had held high hopes for her.

But it seemed Luo Yunye didn’t know whom she’d met earlier.

Remembering the way Luo Yunye had flirted with her earlier, Qin Yiwan decided not to tell her. If fate allowed, they would meet again. If not, there was no need for lingering attachments.

“Don’t be scared,” Luo Yunye said suddenly, snapping her out of her thoughts. She had already climbed down the wooden ladder and was reaching up to her. “I’ll catch you.”

Qin Yiwan glanced at the ladder. It was high, sure—but not so high that she needed catching. She gave Luo Yunye a flat look. “Who do you think you’re underestimating?”

“Alright, alright. You win. Please, come down, Miss Impressive.”

Luo Yunye made a showy “please” gesture, and Qin Yiwan couldn’t help feeling a bit awkward.

She started down the ladder carefully but didn’t expect one of the rungs to be loose. Her foot slipped, balance gone, and she tumbled down.

Luo Yunye moved fast, catching her mid-fall and holding her in a bridal carry. Qin Yiwan’s heart was still pounding from the scare, but as she looked up and saw Luo Yunye’s face so close, she couldn’t quite tell if it was fear or something else making her heart race.

Luo Yunye gently set her down and smiled. “Miss Qin, not so graceful after all.”

Face flushed, Qin Yiwan snapped, “You’re so petty! And don’t act so smug—I still don’t agree to this marriage!”

Luo Yunye twirled a reed in her hand as she strolled ahead, full of confidence. “Doesn’t matter if you don’t. As long as A-Wan agrees when she wakes up, that’s good enough for me.”

From behind, Qin Yiwan shouted, “She won’t agree!”

There was no way she’d accept the person Qin Rushuang had chosen.

They had almost reached the main road when suddenly, blinding lights beamed down on them. Dozens of spotlights flared up, forcing them to raise their hands against the glare.

Over a loudspeaker, someone called out, “You’ve been surrounded. If you release Qin Yiwan now, we’ll consider leniency.”

The police, seeing that Luo Yunye had no weapon, moved in quickly and restrained her. As they did, she turned to Qin Yiwan and said, “Hey! Tell them it wasn’t me who kidnapped you!”

But Qin Yiwan didn’t say a word. She just stood there, watching Luo Yunye being taken away, as she waited for Qin Rushuang to approach.

She came slowly, composed despite the dramatic scene. When she reached her, her hand rose and struck Qin Yiwan hard across the face.

Her voice was icy and filled with fury. “Why couldn’t it have been you who died that day?”

That burning slap didn’t just sting her skin—it shattered the locked-away memories Qin Yiwan had tried for years to bury:

“Why did you take Yiyao out that day?”

“If anything happens to her, I’ll never forgive you!”

“Qin Yiwan, my biggest regret in life was giving birth to you. You ruined Yiyao.”

“You kneel here. Don’t move until nightfall.”

“Don’t call me Mom. My daughter is already dead.”

“Why couldn’t it have been you who died?”

“I picked you a spouse. She’ll give you a child to carry on the Qin family name.”

Qin Rushuang’s cruel words played on a loop in her head like a curse. Not imagined. Not dramatized. These were things she had actually heard, things carved deep into her memory.

Inside, a fierce and painful battle raged—a war between life and death. Then, all at once, the rage in her vanished. Her eyes, still red just moments ago, turned calm and lifeless.

She looked at Qin Rushuang with eyes like still water, her voice detached and cold:

“I didn’t die back then. I’m not dead now, and I’m not going to die in the future.

Mother, I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed forever.”