Forced to Pretend to Be an A and Marry the Best Actress Omega - Chapter 127

When she first woke up, Jiang Lingyu felt utterly dizzy.

The weightless sensation from the flyer’s crash still echoed in her mind. In that moment, all she had felt was relief.

If gambling on this one chance still wouldn’t let her see Xu Mifei, then she would end everything with her own hands. The pain of losing after having gained was too much—when it came to those three characters “Xu Mifei,” she was nothing but fragile.

Losing Xu Mifei was something she simply couldn’t bear. She couldn’t keep forcing herself to wait like this anymore. She couldn’t do it.

By the time Gu Yan snapped out of her daze, she realized that look in Jiang Lingyu’s eyes had been one brimming with death—lifeless. Only this could bring her relief.

As for how things would unfold there, Jiang Lingyu had never considered it. She only wanted to escape that world controlled by the plot.

The truest despair came when she realized that even after doing everything according to the plot, she still couldn’t find any way to reach Xu Mifei. That was real despair.

She returned to the scene where she had once collided with Jiang Wanxiang. The site had long since been washed clean, leaving no trace of what had happened. She found the car, only to be told it had been burned to ashes. Following Xu Mifei’s old notebook, she even sought out Xu Wanzhi once to complete the plotline.

Xu Wanzhi was nothing like her former self, spending her days drowning in alcohol and debauchery. When Jiang Lingyu found her, she screamed hoarsely for Jiang Lingyu to get out, accusing her of coming to laugh at her misery.

But Jiang Lingyu wasn’t there for that. Calmly, she told Xu Wanzhi that she needed her to bite her scent gland. In truth, Jiang Lingyu had already prepared to have her gland removed after Xu Wanzhi injected her pheromones—Song Nian would have no choice but to perform the procedure, willing or not.

Yet Xu Wanzhi cursed her out instead, calling her insane.

With that method closed off, Jiang Lingyu had to find another way. Before Jiang Wanxiang was transferred from detention, she even visited her once. For her mother, what remained in her heart was mostly numbness and resistance. But she wanted to know more details about the car and the accident.

Jiang Wanxiang also called her insane, saying no one would ever genuinely care for a madwoman like her.

Jiang Lingyu didn’t care. She bid Jiang Wanxiang farewell and calmly told her she was about to find the one person who would genuinely care for a madwoman like her.

She spent the entire night sitting by the study window, thinking about what to do.

Where had she gone wrong?

Her gaze fell on those enormous wings—Xu Mifei had given her the freedom to fly, but in this world, as the protagonist, she was forever imprisoned. The prolonged torment seemed to have given her hallucinations. Sometimes, Jiang Lingyu would fall asleep leaning against the chair, vaguely sensing someone gently comforting her, just as Xu Mifei once had, with a soothing pat of her hand.

But when she woke again, even the dream was gone. Only the wind outside stirred the curtains, brushing lightly over her feet.

Until the high-altitude scene was filmed, she finally found the whiteboard in the study, which displayed all the converging timelines Xu Mifei had once drawn.

Unless the events of the original story’s timeline were fully played out, this place would never end.

The original car accident had occurred earlier, so Xu Mifei’s departure had also been moved up. In the original story… in the original story, this movie was never supposed to be hers.

Even though the script was based on her, Xu Mifei had once urged her to take on this film. She was familiar with the original plot and must have known how successful the movie would ultimately be.

In that instant, Jiang Lingyu had an epiphany—she realized it was her who hadn’t followed the original storyline. Xu Mifei had helped her avoid the originally agonizing ending, but in doing so, she had lost the person she cherished most.

At the time, she and Xu Mifei hadn’t discussed the book in depth, so now she had to piece everything together herself. A wild idea gradually took shape in Jiang Lingyu’s mind.

The closer she got to the end, the calmer she became. The film had long been completed and prepared for exhibition—how could the final scene suddenly be damaged at the critical moment? The plot was automatically correcting itself, steering toward the original timeline.

So, when she piloted the flyer into a rapid descent, all she felt was relief, with only the faintest glimmer of hope. She knew that before death, one’s life would flash before their eyes. She only wished to see Xu Mifei one last time before she died.

She didn’t die.

When she woke again, she was lying in a hospital, her body aching, the lower half of her face wrapped in bandages and hooked to a ventilator. Hospitals weren’t unfamiliar to her, but her nose was usually so sensitive—yet now, she couldn’t sense any pheromones at all!

Looking out the window at the sky, there were no projected screens or aerial roads, no flyers.

She had seen this in Gu Yan’s script—this was the old world.

It was also an unfamiliar world.

After a brief moment of confusion, Jiang Lingyu was left with nothing but exhilaration. There was only one possibility—she had gambled right.

She was desperate to find Xu Mifei, but then medical staff and so-called “family” members, calling her “darling,” rushed in excitedly, leaving Jiang Lingyu utterly bewildered.

Who were they?

From their voices and others’, Jiang Lingyu gradually pieced together the situation: these were her parents in this world. The owner of this body was named Qiao Zhiwei, who had been in a vegetative state for over two years after an accident on set. When she asked what the accident had been, the answer struck her like a bolt from the blue.

Wasn’t the woman in this body part of the crew Xu Mifei’s team had been working with at the time?!

Jiang Lingyu remembered Xu Mifei telling her that the actress’s family was hostile toward anyone associated with the production. To be safe, she spoke little and never mentioned Xu Mifei’s name. Moreover, she had no memories of this body’s original owner.

Barring any surprises, it was the same as Xu Mifei’s situation before—the original owner of this body had already passed before she arrived. Of course, the hospital couldn’t detect this. The doctors called it reversible amnesia, saying her memories would likely return gradually. Her “family” didn’t press the issue, just grateful she had woken up.

Jiang Lingyu felt uneasy.

Shen Qinglan and Jiang Zhen had never called her Qiao Zhiwei. She later found out that Qiao Zhiwei was just a stage name she had adopted. In reality, her surname here was also Jiang—Jiang Zhiwei.

Zhiwei—”A noble person discerns the subtle and the evident, knows when to yield and when to stand firm, and becomes the hope of many.”

It was a good name, carrying the family’s hopes, originally intended as her formal name. But the elders later said the name was too grand, fearing the child might not bear its weight, so it became her nickname instead. A more carefree formal name was chosen for her: Jiang Yusheng. Those close to her called her Yuyu, while her parents called her “Nannan.”

Jiang Lingyu had never encountered someone with so many names before. It was said there were even more, each one carrying the blessings of family and friends.

In the end, she found it difficult to tell her parents that she wasn’t the beloved child they thought she was.

After waking up, she hadn’t looked in a mirror and had worried—now that she had a different face, if she ever did find Xu Mifei, would she even be recognized?

When she first woke up in this new world, she hadn’t felt much panic because she knew Xu Mifei was here. Apart from the absence of high-altitude technology and pheromones, this world wasn’t too different from the one before. What struck her was how much harder it must have been for Xu Mifei, arriving in a completely unknown world.

The gauze on her face was changed several times during treatment. Each time, Jiang Lingyu remained silent, and the doctor marveled at her pain tolerance. She herself barely noticed—this level of pain was trivial compared to what she had endured before. But when Shen Qinglan heard, she silently wiped away tears beside her. Jiang Lingyu guessed that the original owner of this body must have been a cherished little princess.

That day, when she caught the scent of bergamot drifting up from downstairs, the gauze was finally removed from her face, and she saw herself for the first time.

The resemblance to her former self was striking, save for a faint pink scar running from the corner of her right eye to behind her ear.

Seeing her dazed expression, Shen Qinglan mistook it for discomfort and reassured her, “It’s alright, Nannan. If we take good care of the wound, the doctor says it won’t scar. Even if there’s a mark, we can remove it with surgery. Our Nannan is the prettiest!”

Jiang Lingyu’s heart pounded wildly. All she wanted to know was where she could find Xu Mifei.

That actress… the director of her previous film crew must know! Jiang Lingyu knew Shen Qinglan didn’t want her entangled with her past, but to survive in this world, she had to adapt quickly to her new identity.

That night, she had a strange dream. She dreamed that Xu Mifei had come, standing downstairs, gazing up at her hospital room for a long time.

But she couldn’t wake up, couldn’t even call out Xu Mifei’s name.

On the day of her discharge, all of Jiang Lingyu’s belongings were packed. In a small pouch close to her body, she finally found her ring. She had lost weight, and the band was slightly loose. Slipping it on, she silently repeated Xu Mifei’s name in her heart.

Adapting to the new world wasn’t difficult. What was hard was the sudden appearance of family and their overwhelming affection. Jiang Lingyu had never experienced such an environment before. Precisely because she could feel their genuine care, she felt utterly at a loss.

Family, friends, and neighbors all came to see her. Within half an hour of arriving home and setting down her luggage, a woman with reddened eyes rushed over, embracing her in a flood of tears before breaking into laughter. The name Xia Yunshu surfaced in her mind—likely a close friend. She confirmed this by finding Xia Yunshu’s name and chat history on her phone.

After a heavy rain cleared, Shen Qinglan suggested she go out for a walk and bring back some fruit. Aunt Zhang, their neighbor, ran a large fruit and fresh produce store just outside the neighborhood. Her son, Wang Ming, who was said to have grown up with her, insisted on tagging along and waited downstairs.

Just before heading out, Xia Yunshu arrived in a fresh green dress. She greeted Jiang Lingyu’s parents, set down the health supplements she’d brought, and knocked lightly on the bedroom door before entering. With a playful whisper, she said, “Yuyu, ready to go? Your childhood friend number one is waiting downstairs. Let’s go meet him together.”

Jiang Lingyu emerged from the bathroom with her hair tied into a low ponytail, a pair of frameless glasses perched on her nose, conveniently masking the faint scar that hadn’t fully healed. The look gave off an air of refined mischief, leaving Xia Yunshu momentarily stunned. “How did you get even more beautiful? Are you trying to kill the rest of us?”

She had always been fair-skinned and striking—enough to be scouted as an amateur actress back then. But the Jiang Zhiwei of that time had been more naive, sheltered by her family. After this major illness, her demeanor had settled into something more composed, especially when she gazed over in silence, exuding a chilling elegance reminiscent of the exquisite divine statues Xia Yunshu had once seen in a museum.

To look at her felt almost like a form of sacrilege.

Jiang Lingyu fastened the top button of her traditional blouse, and Xia Yunshu’s eyes flickered briefly to the pale knot before landing on the sapphire ring adorning Jiang Lingyu’s ring finger. The design was so unique—only she could pull it off. In that moment, Xia Yunshu deeply understood why people would throw themselves at this woman without hesitation.

“Besides number one, who else?” Jiang Lingyu’s voice carried a magnetic depth as she strode forward. Xia Yunshu snapped out of her daze and nodded. “Plenty. There are lots of kids our age in the neighborhood, and you’re irresistible. Missions two through twenty await. Same old method—remember?”

“…” Jiang Lingyu had looked up this “old method” on her phone. It was corny but apparently effective—whenever suitors appeared, Xia Yunshu would play the role of her girlfriend to ward them off. The two were bold enough to pull this even with childhood friends from the same neighborhood, unafraid of word getting back to their families, and they reveled in it.

“What’s that smell? It’s amazing.” Xia Yunshu sniffed the air, zeroing in on the large potted plant on Jiang Lingyu’s balcony—bergamot. But this one was different from any she’d seen before, its fragrance richer, as if it had seeped into her friend’s very being, radiating from within.

Xia Yunshu: “New variety?”

“A lucky one.” Jiang Lingyu’s gaze lingered on the balcony for a moment. “Brought it back from the sanatorium.”

“Ah, that explains it.” Xia Yunshu tightened her grip on Jiang Lingyu’s arm. “Let’s go tease Xiao Wang.”

In the café, Wang Ming had gone to buy coffee for them. Xia Yunshu couldn’t help but smile as she thought about what she would say to Wang Ming later. She began rehearsing in advance—intertwining their fingers, then leaning playfully on Jiang Lingyu’s shoulder, whispering, “Should we put on a little show and give them a passionate kiss?”

Though she knew Xia Yunshu was completely straight and just a close friend, Jiang Lingyu still refused. “…No.”

“Just pretend to kiss your cheek—fake it,” Xia Yunshu chuckled. “Nothing ventured, nothing gained. It’s not like you have a real girlfriend right now anyway.”

Just then, Wang Ming walked over with a smile. “The shop’s a bit busy today. They said it’ll take a little longer. Let’s sit for a while, and I’ll go get the coffee when it’s ready. Or I could run to the supermarket first and grab some fruit for you to take back.”

Wang Ming was an earnest young man. His mother had asked him to bring some fruit for Jiang Lingyu, and he took it to heart—completely unaware that Auntie Zhang’s true intentions lay elsewhere.

“I think you just wanted to see Yuyu, so you dragged us out for coffee,” Xia Yunshu mercilessly exposed his thoughts. Still grinning, she took Jiang Lingyu’s hand and waved it playfully in front of Wang Ming. “Doesn’t seem that busy to me. Did you tell the staff to delay our order so you could spend more time with us?”

Wang Ming hastily waved his hands. “No way, no way! How would I dare? Yuyu finally made time to come back, and we’re all happy for her. What’s wrong with grabbing coffee? Oh, right… My mom mentioned the durian and jackfruit that just came in yesterday are really good. I’ll bring some for you later.”

“Always ‘my mom said this, my mom said that.’ Do you just do whatever your mom tells you? You’re grown up—can’t you think for yourself?” Xia Yunshu scoffed. She did all the talking while Jiang Lingyu seemed disinterested, perhaps because the sunlight from the window was too glaring. She had been sitting with her back to the window the whole time.

Even so, she looked like a painting—so beautiful that Xia Yunshu couldn’t help but admire her while teasing Wang Ming.

“Oh, look, look. Seems like more people are here to see you. Couldn’t they just wait in the neighborhood? They actually followed us all the way here.” Sitting facing the window, Xia Yunshu easily spotted the two girls in pajamas peeking in from outside.

Suddenly, her gaze froze. Across the street, under the traffic light, a crowd had gathered, waiting to cross.

Among them stood a woman with an effortlessly elegant aura. Though she wore sunglasses and only her shoulders and above were visible, the smooth contours of her face suggested striking beauty. Her presence stood out in the crowd, drawing the eye instantly.

In that brief moment of eye contact, Xia Yunshu felt the intensity behind those shaded lenses.

Honestly, she thought this was exactly Jiang Lingyu’s type.

She nudged Jiang Lingyu to look outside, but Jiang Lingyu showed no interest, merely staring at the delicate coaster in front of her, lost in thought.

When Xia Yunshu glanced back out the window, the woman was already gone—as if that sharp, fleeting gaze had just been an illusion.

Was it really just an illusion?

Wang Ming, however, finally noticed the hands that Xia Yunshu and Jiang Lingyu had been holding the entire time and belatedly voiced his confusion, “Don’t you two feel hot holding hands in this weather?”

“Can’t you tell we’re close?” Xia Yunshu had been holding back laughter. She also wore a ring—just a simple blue agate one, barely matching the color of the rings on Xia Lingyu and Jiang Lingyu’s fingers. It was enough to fool Wang Ming. “See? We even have matching rings.”

Wang Ming forced a laugh. “Yeah, yeah… You two have always been close since childhood.”

Jiang Lingyu could barely contain herself. Her wandering thoughts kept being pulled back. She found the people here a bit slow, but amusing. She sensed no malice from them.

A faint smile touched her lips. This teasing instinctively brought back some funny memories.

“Since you know how close we are, don’t go bothering our Yuyu anymore, got it? Being her lackey is fine, but don’t even think about anything else. I won’t allow it,” Xia Yunshu said bluntly.

Wang Ming stammered, “Wh-why not?”

“Hello, your coffees.” A pleasant voice suddenly interrupted their conversation. It seemed a server had arrived, but their attention was elsewhere, and none of them looked up.

Yet in Jiang Lingyu’s line of sight appeared a pair of slender, well-defined hands. These hands placed a glass of juice in front of her.

They were extraordinarily beautiful hands. Startled, she looked up, as if to confirm something.

Only then did she see the tall figure standing beside her.

The newcomer was completely covered up—whether they were a café employee or not was unclear. A cap obscured their face, with slightly frizzy hair tied loosely at the top, revealing just enough to tell it was a woman. Long legs, a baseball cap, sunglasses, a face mask—fully armed.

On the sunny streets, many pedestrians dressed like this, but few kept it up indoors, especially in such sweltering heat when everyone just wanted to stay cool.

Wang Ming hadn’t caught on yet. He stared at the three cups on the table—no, only two coffees in front of him and Xia Yunshu. The one before Jiang Lingyu was richly colored, like iced tea or juice. He sniffed—grape, maybe.

Puzzled, he looked up. “Wait, we didn’t order juice, did we?”

That was when he noticed Jiang Lingyu’s odd behavior.

The previously distracted Jiang Lingyu was now staring unblinkingly at the server, as if trying to bore a hole through them with her gaze.

His mother had said that although Jiang Lingyu had survived, she’d been left with some aftereffects.

She didn’t remember things, so occasionally, she might say or do strange things. He’d wondered just how strange…

The server was odd too, speaking in a deliberately lowered voice. “Coffee isn’t suitable for someone who’s just recovered from a long illness. Juice is better. Enjoy.”

Jiang Lingyu’s fingers pressed tightly against the rim of the juice glass, as if the drink weighed a thousand pounds, making her chest heave uncontrollably, struggling for breath. She noticed the woman’s gaze lingering for a moment on the button above her collarbone as she set the glass down. That glance burned like a torch, searing her with sudden, intense heartache.

She could barely restrain herself from tearing off the person’s sunglasses and mask right then and there, in full view of everyone, to see if this was indeed the one she had been dreaming of day and night.

—Grape juice. How could such a coincidence bring her a glass of grape juice?

And how did this person know she had just recovered from a long illness?

This was no mere coincidence. Realizing something, Jiang Lingyu immediately turned her gaze to the tall figure’s hands. The person wore a pair of ill-fitting white gloves, loose enough to obscure whether there was anything on the fingers.

Just as Jiang Lingyu was about to reach out and grasp that hand, Xia Yunshu swiftly caught her wrist and asked Wang Ming with a smile, “What was it you just asked?”

In this restaurant, each server is assigned to a specific table, so after placing the drinks, they would stand nearby holding a tray, waiting. This server was no exception—she took two steps back and positioned herself slightly behind Jiang Lingyu.

Jiang Lingyu’s gaze drifted downward, landing on the person’s pair of combat boots. The creases in the leather seemed to crease her heart as well.

Even without revealing any facial features, the simple way this person carried themselves was enough to draw attention. Her eyes traveled upward—long, straight legs, a loose-fitting shirt buttoned all the way to the top, sleeves rolled up twice to expose pale forearms, just a glimpse of cool, porcelain skin.

This kind of complexion was rare in this region.

Even the hands were tightly wrapped in white gloves.

—So stern and proper.

Jiang Lingyu’s mind instantly flashed to Xu Mifei, who, even in uniform, would fasten every metal button to the very top.

Only Xu Mifei could pull off such an ascetic style—flirtatious yet aloof, lazy yet full of charm, like a rogue disguised as a proper person, impossible to look away from, tempting one to uncover the truth.

Jiang Lingyu was already distracted, her thoughts entirely consumed by Xu Mifei’s name.

No Wang Ming, no Xia Yunshu, none of the surrounding noise or scenery—all her senses were fixated on the figure standing diagonally behind her.

She had to muster all her restraint just to stay seated, to keep herself from losing composure and rushing over to that person.

She took deep breaths, telling herself—Maybe I’m mistaken. If it really were Xu Mifei… there’s no way she’d still be standing behind me instead of coming forward to reunite.

Perhaps it was hypersensitivity, but ever since the juice was placed on the table, she had caught the faint scent of grapes lingering in the air around her.

Jiang Lingyu picked up the glass of juice and took a sip.

The grape juice slid down her throat, cool and rich, sweet with a lingering aftertaste, fragrant on her lips and tongue. For a moment, she was dazed—was she drinking grape juice, or swallowing a mouthful of pheromones?

Wang Ming said, “I was just asking why—Yunshu, what did you mean by that?”

Before Jiang Lingyu could snap out of her trance, Xia Yunshu grabbed her hand, snuggling close and resting her head casually on Jiang Lingyu’s shoulder. She even nuzzled upward playfully, eyes curved as she said to Wang Ming, “You really are a fool! Yuyu and I have been together for a while now—I’m her girlfriend.”

Wang Ming had been about to take a sip of coffee. At the word “girlfriend,” his hand froze—

Clink.

The spoon dropped into the cup, splashing coffee everywhere. The pristine tablecloth was now stained with brown splotches.

As if the drama wasn’t enough, Xia Yunshu had initially wanted to fake a kiss, but Jiang Lingyu had refused. So instead, she rubbed her nose against Jiang Lingyu’s cheek, like an affectionate kitten clinging to its owner.

Even this simple gesture made their relationship unmistakably intimate. Wang Ming was so stunned he didn’t even react to the coffee nearly tipping over.

Just then, the server beside them stepped forward with a wet wipe. “Excuse me, let me clean this up for you.”

Her voice seemed to grow even softer this time, to the point where even Xia Yunshu couldn’t help but glance at the waitress. Was it just her imagination, or had the waitress briefly swept her gaze over her? A chill ran down her back.

Were coffee shop waitresses of this caliber common nowadays? Even without seeing her face, the woman’s tall, slender figure could rival that stunning passerby she’d glimpsed outside earlier.

Jiang Lingyu immediately withdrew her hand from Xia Yunshu’s grip and was about to subtly create some distance between them when Wang Ming stammered, “Stop joking around like this! I don’t believe it!”

“Believe it or not, look—we even have matching couple rings.” Xia Yunshu promptly grabbed Jiang Lingyu’s hand, interlocking their fingers and proudly displaying their rings side by side in front of Wang Ming.

“Yuyu and I have been together for ages. These past two years, I’ve been waiting for her to wake up. I visited her every month without fail, and Aunt Shen always trusted me enough to let me stay overnight with her. I was the one who picked her up when she finally came home. Did you really think Aunt Shen wasn’t aware? We’re just waiting for the right time to make it public.” Xia Yunshu beamed, thoroughly enjoying her performance as her tone grew increasingly tender. “Who in this world could possibly be better for Yuyu than me? Who understands her more deeply than I do? I guarantee there’s no second person.”

There is. There is someone, Jiang Lingyu silently repeated in her heart.

Only that person had taught her how to love someone, made her realize that there could be hope in her life. Without that person’s appearance, Jiang Lingyu wouldn’t be here now—she’d still be drifting aimlessly through that world, resigned to her predetermined fate.

The plot that Xu Mifei had intervened to alter felt like defying destiny itself, giving her a second chance at life. Yet the lover who had personally handed her this opportunity was now lost somewhere in the vast sea of humanity.

Jiang Lingyu remained silent, as did Wang Ming. His face flushed red then paled, clearly torn between belief and unwilling acceptance. Caught between misfortune and resentment, he chose to say nothing, drowning his emotions in coffee instead.

Xia Yunshu, merciless as ever, continued her verbal assault: “I’m not afraid of you telling Aunt Shen either. Both families have tacitly approved this. After everything Yuyu’s been through, her family will undoubtedly prioritize her happiness from now on. So, give up already—Yuyu loves me to death. Look, she won’t even drink water unless I feed it to her myself. Don’t disturb us. And don’t start crying like you did when we were kids. After you’re done, bring the fruit over. We’re leaving.”

True to her words, Xia Yunshu picked up the juice glass, scooped a small spoonful, and brought it to Jiang Lingyu’s lips, coaxing like one would a child: “Say ‘ah,’ baby.”

Wang Ming: “…”

Just then, Xia Yunshu heard a sound from beside them—the waitress had actually let out a soft laugh.

Jiang Lingyu stiffened, ignoring the offered juice as she turned to look, but the space behind and to the side was now empty. She hadn’t misheard it—this time, the voice hadn’t been deliberately lowered or altered, perfectly overlapping with that familiar sound from her memories.

She immediately turned to look, but the waiter had already disappeared. A loud “clang” echoed—the sound of a chair being pushed back abruptly.

Xia Yunshu and Wang Ming were both startled. This was the first time Jiang Lingyu had ever made such an impulsive move.

Before they could react, Jiang Lingyu turned her head, downed the grape juice in her glass in one gulp, and swiftly chased after the figure.

“Hey—Bao! You haven’t even gotten the fruit yet! Where are you going? Wait for us—wait for me, Yuyu!”

Outside the window, crowds bustled and cars streamed past, the lively clamor weaving into a dense net that enveloped all of Jiang Lingyu’s senses. Only the lingering sweetness of the grape juice she had just drunk remained, its faint aroma still hanging in the air. At this moment, her sense of smell became like a pair of hands parting through the mist, precisely grasping onto that faint, elusive thread as she followed the scent.

Her heartbeat grew increasingly frantic. Is it you? If it’s you, why didn’t you recognize me? Why didn’t you hold me tight right then?

Crossing the main road and turning into a narrow alley, Jiang Lingyu followed the scent into an ancient lane beside the bustling market. Her stamina wasn’t suited for such intense running, but the longing in her heart drove her forward without pause.

She had never been here before, only chasing the fragrance blindly. Before she knew it, she had stumbled into a dead-end alley, and the scent suddenly dispersed into the surroundings, its direction now impossible to trace—like a long, teasing game that had ended abruptly.

Jiang Lingyu’s heart sank. She knew she had lost the trail.

This place was too deep into the alley, with little foot traffic. Apart from her own hurried steps, no one else was around.

The shaded ground was covered in moss, likely due to the poor location. There was only one small courtyard here, its latch rusted, a “For Rent” sign pasted on the door, seemingly ignored by passersby.

Jiang Lingyu felt disoriented, her body swaying weakly as if all strength had left her. The moment her hand pressed against the door, it unexpectedly swung open on its own. A pair of hands pulled her straight into the courtyard, fingers pressing firmly into her waist, leaving slight indentations. The person’s arms were strong, effortlessly lifting her over the high threshold.

With a soft click, the heavy lock snapped shut again.

Her back was pressed against the brick wall beside the door, the cold surface sending a shiver through her body. At the same time, her eyes were covered—her vision instantly stolen.

These were bare hands, warm and slender, the palms slightly damp with sweat.

Jiang Lingyu’s heart pounded like a drum. She didn’t say a word, and the person opposite remained silent too, only pressing closer inch by inch. A knee nudged playfully between her legs, parting them with deliberate ease.

The air grew scorching with each shared breath.

The feeling of being cornered didn’t frighten her in the slightest—only exhilaration, excitement, a wildly beating heart, and a restless body that had already recognized who stood before her.

Who are you?

Those three words didn’t need to be spoken aloud.

Then came a light, teasing laugh. Jiang Lingyu felt warm breath deliberately brush against her ear, and the pulse in her neck throbbed violently, as if that heated exhale had ruthlessly grazed over it. A familiar voice murmured, “Being pinned like this, and you’re not screaming… or even scared?”

“I found you.” Jiang Lingyu uttered only four words before the dampness at the corners of her eyes wet the palm pressed against her face. She abruptly pulled off the glove from Xu Mifei’s other hand, touching the familiar ring. “I—” I’ve been searching for you for so long.

Everything was unmistakably real, yet it felt so surreal, like a dream.

The dry, scorching air was a spark away from igniting, as if a single ember had been tossed into a barren wilderness.

Before she could speak, her lips were sealed in a kiss—fierce and urgent, as though trying to pour all the longing of these past days into the mingling of their tongues. Jiang Lingyu tasted bl00d, unsure whose bite had drawn it… Xu Mifei’s now-bare hand firmly cupped Jiang Lingyu’s chin.

But Jiang Lingyu traced the wound on Xu Mifei’s lips. Where had this bite come from? Who had done this? Remembering how Xu Mifei had teased her in the café earlier, not revealing herself immediately, anger flared. She pushed Xu Mifei away, pressing her lips tightly together.

Xu Mifei spread her thumb, using the space between thumb and forefinger to hold Jiang Lingyu’s chin, preventing her from retreating. Her fingers tensed slightly, then abruptly loosened when she saw the faint red mark forming on Jiang Lingyu’s skin.

At the same time, she lowered the hand restraining Jiang Lingyu, bringing those peach-blossom eyes into full view.

Contrary to her light tone, Xu Mifei’s eyes were bloodshot, filled with restrained emotion and the wild joy of reunion. Her fingers trembled, her palms sweaty, and even as she pressed Jiang Lingyu against the wall, she controlled her strength carefully, not harming her in the slightest.

Xu Mifei didn’t cry, yet her tears seemed to have transferred to Jiang Lingyu’s eyes, dampening fingers and burning searing marks into her heart.

Her gaze was like a charged magnet, slowly tracing Jiang Lingyu’s eyes, nose, and lips. Her breath came fast and uneven, a mix of longing and fear. After what felt like an eternity, she leaned in again, kissing away Jiang Lingyu’s tears before finally reaching her lips. In a husky whisper, she murmured, “Ah, open your mouth, darling.”