I Really Didn't Intend to Pick Up the Black Lotus Omega - Chapter 31

The dinner party felt like a fleeting moment of joy. Yu Qing wasn’t sure if they had managed to eat enough grilled meat to make up for the cost.

 

What she did know was that ever since she had been assigned to work under Liaoliao, not a single day had passed without her feeling utterly exhausted.

 

This game company in her new world was far larger than her previous employer in her original world, and the games they were developing were on a much grander scale.

 

Even as a former team leader who had overseen game programming, Yu Qing found herself struggling to grasp many things at first. These past few days, she had constantly felt Liaoliao’s subtle yet unmistakable disdain.

 

“Of course, how could us mere mortals ever compare to the gods?” Yu Qing muttered, staring at her frozen computer screen. She pitied the machine for being overloaded, but even more, she pitied herself for the impending disapproval from Liaoliao.

 

“Still not running?”

 

A cup of coffee landed on Yu Qing’s desk, the ice cubes clinking against each other.

 

Yu Qing looked up to see Liaoliao casually grabbing a piece of paper from her workstation and slowly wiping her fingers.

 

Even at eight in the evening, the air outside remained stiflingly hot.

 

Water droplets clung to the coffee cup, radiating a cool mist.

 

“No,” Yu Qing admitted honestly, nodding. She then thanked Liaoliao for the coffee. “Thank you, Liaoliao-jie.”

 

“You’re staying late with me. It’s only right,” Liaoliao said tersely, leaning over Yu Qing’s frozen computer.

 

Her communication style was similar to Jiang Nianyu’s—concise and to the point.

 

Yu Qing wondered if she should introduce Jiang Nianyu and Liaoliao someday. They might actually get along.

 

But both women were so reserved. If they were together, would they just fall into awkward silence?

 

The thought made Yu Qing chuckle inwardly, the amusement quickly fading.

 

She took a leisurely sip of her coffee. The sweet, toasted cheese clinging to the straw made the coffee taste less bitter.

 

Though Liaoliao usually wore black-rimmed glasses and rarely smiled, she surprisingly remembered her subordinates’ preferences.

 

Sometimes Yu Qing genuinely believed that Liaoliao’s solitary behavior at the company stemmed from a genuine disdain for superficial socializing.

 

Yet a casual remark from Liaoliao could suddenly make the coffee Yu Qing had just swallowed taste unbearably bitter.

 

“Even the most foolish approach to this situation wouldn’t be what you’re doing.”

 

“I was trying to…”

 

Tap-tap—

 

Yu Qing wanted to argue, to explain her reasoning to Liaoliao.

 

Just as she had done these past few days, Liaoliao casually rolled up her sleeves while speaking and leaned toward Yu Qing without warning.

 

Yu Qing’s words caught in her throat, caught off guard.

 

Clumsily clutching her coffee, she quietly slid out from under the Alpha’s arm.

 

The clatter of the keyboard echoed through the silent office. The arm with its rolled-up sleeve appeared pale and capable against the backdrop of the black shirt.

 

In mere seconds, when the program ran again, the output window no longer displayed errors. Instead, it showed the results Yu Qing had intended.

 

Without warning, Liaoliao turned to glance at Yu Qing.

 

Her indigo eyes, darkened by the dim light, held an intangible disdain, a look of utter contempt—the very embodiment of royal scorn.

 

The words stuck in Yu Qing’s throat no longer needed to be spoken. She felt utterly crushed.

 

This wasn’t the first time Liaoliao had given her that look.

 

Back in her original world, Yu Qing had been the go-to person for her team, praised and admired.

 

Even at the meeting just days ago, she had been commended, rekindling her pride in her work.

 

But to Liaoliao, none of it mattered.

 

Over the past few days, Yu Qing had come to realize she was like someone who aced the gaokao and got into Tsinghua or Peking University, only to discover she was nothing more than a top scorer.

 

Her classmates were all recipients of various awards and guaranteed admission candidates, their future career plans already far surpassing her own.

 

Reality was always this cruel. The once-bright sparkle in the young woman’s eyes dimmed and sank.

 

Yu Qing shuffled her feet, sliding her chair back to her workstation. “Should I continue?”

 

Liaoliao responded with a calm “Hmm.”

 

Her flat shoes made even less noise than Yu Qing’s chair as she walked back to her workstation in the center of the office.

 

The clatter of keyboards filled the air; Yu Qing wasn’t the only one working late.

 

Liaoliao was staying to work with her as well.

 

As night deepened, only the tech parks remained brightly lit across the city.

 

The keyboard clicks seemed crisper at night, each person immersed in their own tasks.

 

Yu Qing watched Liaoliao’s edits in her project files, her eyes flickering between brightness and shadow.

 

She couldn’t immediately grasp Liaoliao’s problem-solving approach or how remarkable it was.

 

She could only understand the answer. Even if she grasped it faster than others, what good was that?

 

In recent days, Yu Qing had grown increasingly suspicious that she was simply too slow-witted to keep up with Jiang Nianyu’s thinking.

 

Buzz

 

At that moment, a notification arrived.

 

A name flashed across her phone screen: A Spot of Light.

 

It was Jiang Nianyu, and she hadn’t provided a subject line. Yu Qing would have to “unwrap” her message like a gift.

 

Tapping the video, the camera focused squarely on a dog.

 

The footage, recorded from a computer screen, wasn’t particularly sharp, but the little dog still wagged its tail, strutting proudly back and forth across the screen.

 

Apparently, filming with one hand proved awkward. The camera jerked slightly.

 

A faint rustling sound came through Yu Qing’s headphones, accompanied by what sounded like someone’s breath brushing against her ear.

 

Yu Qing’s gaze tightened inexplicably. Before she could process the sensation, Jiang Nianyu, still manipulating the mouse, dragged the dog’s image over a minimized browser window.

 

Yu Qing’s eyes lit up as she watched Jiang Nianyu’s maneuver.

 

Sure enough, within seconds, Lianlian began “eating” the browser window with particular gusto.

 

This was a feature Yu Qing had just added for Jiang Nianyu two days prior.

 

Yu Qing had planned to hide an Easter egg for Jiang Nianyu, but she hadn’t expected her to discover it so quickly.

 

The little dog ate while nudging the page border.

 

Though she had barely eaten any of the border, she had already pushed it almost off the screen.

 

Watching the page border disappear after only a few bites, Lianlian curled her fluffy tail around herself and huddled into a miserable ball.

 

She glanced at the camera, then at Jiang Nianyu behind it, whimpering softly, “Wuwu…”

 

“Haha… so cute.”

 

Though Yu Qing couldn’t see the person behind the camera, the soft laughter resonated clearly in her ears.

 

Even though the earphones were cold, Yu Qing felt as if a warm breath had enveloped her earlobe, the tickling sensation spreading to her heart.

 

Yu Qing’s earlier gloomy mood seemed to lighten slightly at those words.

 

“Tsk, tsk, tsk.”

 

The tip of her tongue clicked against her palate, making a sound to call the little dog’s attention.

 

Could the electronic dog understand human language?

 

Yu Qing didn’t know, but she knew that she understood.

 

A hand slowly reached out in front of the screen, its fingers gently curling and occasionally hooking at something.

 

As if summoned by Jiang Nianyu, Yu Qing’s gaze became fixed on her hand, unable to look away.

 

But then the video ended.

 

Yu Qing grabbed her coffee from the table and took a sip. The icy liquid slid down her throat, calming her considerably.

 

Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, pausing and tapping intermittently.

 

After a moment of thought, she typed: Do you really like Lianlian?

 

Yes.

 

Almost instantly, Jiang Nianyu replied to Yu Qing’s message.

 

Barefoot on the sofa, hugging her knees, she explained: A-Qing gave Lianlian life.

 

What greater praise could there be for a programmer than to say she had breathed life into an image through her code?

 

Yu Qing couldn’t think of any. Her heart began to race wildly at Jiang Nianyu’s words.

 

Perhaps, she thought, she had indeed underestimated Liaoliao.

 

But in someone’s eyes, she would always be the best programmer.

 

She possessed the ability to breathe life into code.

 

Yu Qing’s lips curved into a faint smile as she cradled her phone like a precious treasure.

 

Buzz… buzz… buzz…

 

Yet, just when Yu Qing was feeling happy, someone always seemed determined to spoil her mood.

 

A call suddenly popped up on her screen, Zhou Tian’s name overlaying the chat window between Yu Qing and Jiang Nianyu.

 

The last family dinner hadn’t been a pleasant experience, and Yu Qing instinctively felt a pang of dread at seeing her mother’s call.

 

After a moment’s hesitation and a deep breath to steel herself, she answered the phone, her voice soft: “Hello, Mom.”

 

Zhou Tian: “Xiao Qing, your sister’s already here. When are you coming home?”

 

The question caught Yu Qing completely off guard.

 

She checked her messaging app, but there was no mention of a family dinner. Why was this suddenly being brought up now?

 

Liaoliao was still typing away at her code nearby. Yu Qing didn’t want to go home. “Mom, I have to work overtime. I won’t be able to make it tonight.”

 

On the other end of the line, Zhou Tian couldn’t believe Yu Qing wasn’t coming home, her voice rising in disbelief. “Not coming home? How can you not come home today?!”

 

Yu Qing frowned at the almost accusatory tone, her voice low but firm. “Because I have work, Mom.”

 

“Yu Qing—!”

 

Before Zhou Tian could finish, Yu Qing hung up.

 

She had no idea why today was so important that she needed to be home.

 

In fact, no one had even notified her about it beforehand.

 

No notification, yet they were barging into her carefully planned life and then demanding to know why she wasn’t home.

 

Yu Qing deeply resented this behavior. A suffocating feeling rose in her chest, as if the original owner’s lingering consciousness had been stirred by the call.

 

The phone call had shattered Yu Qing’s good mood. Staring at the code on her screen, only one thought remained:

 

Finish this quickly and get home to see Jiang Nianyu.

 

But before Yu Qing could type a few more lines of code, the house phone rang again.

 

This time, it was Yu Zhengjian calling.

 

Yu Qing frowned deeply as she answered the call. “Hello, Dad.”

 

“Your mother said you’re working late and won’t be home for dinner?” Yu Zhengjian asked.

 

Without giving her a chance to explain, he launched into a tirade: “How could you not come home today? Everyone’s waiting for you! You can’t just decide not to come! Stop acting like a child!”

 

“You’re just a Beta. Do your work and be done with it. Why are you working overtime? Come home now!”

 

These dismissive words, like a dull knife, sliced through Yu Qing’s heart, leaving it heavy and swollen with resentment.

 

She had always hated hearing such remarks. Her grip on the phone tightened abruptly. “Dad, I don’t see what being a Beta has to do with anything. I still have a lot of work to do. I’m hanging up now.”

 

But the calls didn’t stop just because Yu Qing wanted them to.

 

After ending the call with Yu Zhengjian, Yu Qing placed her phone on the desk, only for it to ring again immediately.

 

She continued coding.

 

Zhou Tian and Yu Zhengjian’s calls alternated, one after another.

 

For a fleeting moment, Yu Qing’s eyes wavered slightly.

 

Yet, fueled by an inexplicable stubbornness, she found herself clashing with her parents.

 

She refused to go home.

 

She loved her work.

 

Buzz, buzz, buzz.

 

“Come home.”

 

As the countless calls continued to pressure her, Liaoliao approached Yu Qing’s workstation.

 

Her sudden appearance startled Yu Qing, who jerked her head up, a flicker of awkwardness in her eyes.

 

“I… I’m fine.”

 

Liaoliao pressed her lips together, her usual downturned mouth tightening with either resignation or dissatisfaction.

 

She rarely touched others, but now she placed a hand on Yu Qing’s shoulder and said, “The problem’s been resolved. Staying here won’t accomplish much. You can finish it tomorrow.”

 

Though Liaoliao meant to comfort Yu Qing, her words stung.

 

The remaining work truly was meaningless.

 

The most critical bug had been fixed by Liaoliao in mere minutes.

 

Yu Qing’s pride ran deeper than she had imagined.

 

She couldn’t accept this kind of defeat. Her self-esteem pressed down on her chest, suffocating her.

 

At least let me finish the remaining tasks, she thought, let me package up this bug I’ve fixed.

 

Liaoliao, oblivious to Yu Qing’s suppressed emotions, picked up her own bag.

 

As the Chief Programmer, she felt responsible for her team, especially since it was so late and only the two of them remained in the office. “I need to swipe my card one last time.”

 

The fluorescent lights, glaring in the dark night, reminded Yu Qing that her stubbornness shouldn’t drag others into her mess. Perhaps this body was still “too young,” she thought, momentarily letting her competitive spirit override her better judgment.

 

Regaining her composure, Yu Qing watched Liaoliao walk toward the door and picked up her own bag. “Thank you for your hard work today.”

 

“That’s what I should be saying to you,” Liaoliao replied calmly, a hint of amusement in her eyes. “Go back and address the root of the problem. It’ll save you a lot of trouble.”

 

With that, Liaoliao gestured toward Yu Qing’s phone. Only then did Yu Qing notice it lighting up again.

 

This time, the caller was Yu Qingyun.

 

Yu Qing never imagined that while the original owner’s parents had failed to reach her despite repeated attempts, Yu Qingyun would be the one to call.

 

She took a deep breath and answered in a steady voice. “I understand. I’m heading back now.”

 

 

Yu Qing felt a surge of strength, enough to push open the door to her adoptive parents’ home. What fueled her most was the anticipation of what late-night snack Jiang Nianyu might have prepared for her tonight.

 

This was her second time entering this old residential complex, and her second time standing before this thirty-year-old security door.

 

Outside, the shadows of trees rustled in the evening breeze, mirroring the turmoil in Yu Qing’s heart.

 

“I’m back,” Yu Qing called out, her voice drawn out as she pushed open the door.

 

To her surprise, instead of the usual barrage of scolding, Zhou Tian greeted her with cheerful enthusiasm: “Sister’s back! Go wash your hands quickly—dinner’s ready!”

 

This was the first time Yu Qing had ever heard Zhou Tian address her with such affection.

 

The icy chill that had gripped Yu Qing’s heart all the way here was suddenly warmed by her mother’s warmth. She nodded obediently and went to wash her hands.

 

The gurgling water flowed over Yu Qing’s hands, engulfing and releasing her fingers.

 

As Yu Qing carefully washed her hands, she thought that today she might finally get to properly savor Zhou Tian’s cooking.

 

But would things really go as planned?

 

After washing her hands, Yu Qing emerged from the bathroom only to find all the lights in the house had been turned off.

 

Confused and bewildered, her gaze drifted to two flickering red flames that had appeared in the room. Candles illuminated, their glow revealing the number 32.

 

“Happy birthday to you~ Happy birthday to you~ Come on, Sister, let’s sing together!”

 

Today was Yu Qingyun’s birthday!

 

Yu Qing was suddenly startled, finally understanding why Zhou Tian and Yu Zhengjian had been calling her repeatedly.

 

She felt a pang of guilt, especially remembering her lukewarm response during their last conversation with Yu Qingyun.

 

But Yu Qing couldn’t understand why her original self’s calendar, which even recorded colleagues’ birthdays, had no entry for this day.

 

Yu Qingyun was her sister, after all.

 

The truth didn’t require Yu Qing to investigate; the explanation soon arrived.

 

As Yu Qingyun calmly made a wish over her birthday cake and blew out the candles under the watchful eyes of her parents and sister, Zhou Tian eagerly twisted the “2” to face Yu Qing, then replaced the “3” with a “5,” all while lighting the candles.

 

“Sister, it’s your turn now. Make a wish!”

 

“Happy birthday to you~ Happy birthday to you~”

 

The flickering candlelight danced before Yu Qing’s eyes. As she gazed at Zhou Tian’s smiling face, a sudden chill ran through her.

 

Yu Qingyun and Yu Zhengjian stood beside her, singing “Happy Birthday.” Yu Qingyun’s usually icy voice inexplicably warmed with an unfamiliar tenderness.

 

Stop pretending.

 

Today isn’t her birthday.

 

Yu Qing had checked beforehand: she and the original owner of this body shared the same birthdate. How could she possibly celebrate her birthday with Yu Qingyun?

 

Besides, the original owner had always celebrated her birthday with Yu Qingyun.

 

Zhou Tian would never mark today’s date with a “birthday” symbol.

 

What kind of birthday is this?

 

How could they force someone to blow out candles without even notifying them?

 

Yu Qing frowned as she watched Yu Zhengjian approach with the cake. Suddenly, she felt an unprecedented sense of oppression.

 

The tiny, slowly burning candles consumed barely any oxygen, yet they pressed down on Yu Qing’s chest, making it impossible to breathe.

 

“Make a wish, Sister,” Zhou Tian urged.

 

Her smile was one Yu Qing had never seen before—a twisted, menacing expression.

 

It felt like a sharp blade piercing through Yu Qing and the original owner’s body.

 

She couldn’t tell if this pain originated from herself or from the original owner.

 

Yu Qing lowered her gaze, staring fixedly at the candles. “Whose birthday is it today?” she asked Zhou Tian.

 

“Yours and Sister’s, of course,” Zhou Tian replied casually.

 

“But today isn’t my birthday,” Yu Qing said, abruptly lifting her eyes to meet Zhou Tian’s.

 

“You know, dear, since it’s your sister’s birthday, we’re celebrating yours too. Weren’t you so happy about this before?” Zhou Tian seemed startled by Yu Qing’s gaze, her smile becoming strained. “Besides… isn’t this how everyone celebrates these days?”

 

“Just because everyone does it, does that make it right?” Yu Qing retorted, clenching her fists.

 

Living as her original self these past few days, she had never once encountered the keyword “birthday.”

 

No one would erase all traces of something they eagerly anticipated from their life.

 

On the contrary, people often go to great lengths to erase the existence of something they’re trying to escape.

 

Yu Qing didn’t understand. She couldn’t comprehend these people.

 

Yet, it was as if she saw through them completely, her question cutting like a knife: “Why do you insist on celebrating my birthday on the same day as my sister’s? Have you ever once asked for my opinion?”

 

Zhou Tian opened her mouth to speak, but it was Yu Zhengjian’s voice that finally broke the silence, feigning nonchalance: “What’s wrong with that? You’re sisters—why make such a fuss about whose birthday it is? If you don’t want to celebrate, we won’t.”

 

“Then why did you force me to come back here?” Yu Qing countered.

 

The newly replaced candle, still coated in cream, lay brazenly in Yu Qing’s eyes.

 

But they had underestimated her. She was nothing like the meek and submissive person her original self had been. She directly punctured Yu Zhengjian’s lie: “I told you both repeatedly that I had to work overtime today. How could you have missed that?”

 

“Even if it wasn’t my birthday, I’d still be here to celebrate with Sister. But in all these years, has Sister ever once celebrated my birthday with me?”

 

Yu Qing’s voice grew increasingly agitated. For a moment, she couldn’t even tell if she was railing against her adoptive parents for the original Yu Qing’s past experiences or for her own experiences in her original world.

 

“You’ve always celebrated your birthdays together, so of course…”

 

“Of course not,” Yu Qing interrupted coldly.

 

Zhou Tian’s words were filled with indifference toward sharing a birthday.

 

But before she could finish, Yu Qing ruthlessly cut her off.

 

The candle burned endlessly, its smoke stinging their eyes until they reddened.

 

Yu Qing found it all absurd. She had abandoned her work, disrupted her carefully laid plans for the day, only to return home not to a warm family gathering or a feast of delicious food, but to a birthday celebration that shouldn’t even belong to her.

 

“Have you thrown enough of a tantrum? Your mother and I just wanted to celebrate your birthdays together—what’s wrong with that? It’s just another day!” Yu Zhengjian’s voice rose as he slammed the cake onto the table. “You used to be such a well-behaved child, always letting your sister have her way. What happened? You’ve become a completely different person!”

 

“Yeah, why is that?” Yu Qing retorted, finding his words laughable.

 

She glared at the self-righteous man before her and shot back, “If it’s just another day, then why, for the past twenty-five—no, thirty-two years—has every birthday been celebrated as Yu Qingyun’s? Has there ever been a single day that was truly mine?!”

 

It was just a matter of who could shout louder.

 

Yu Qing’s sharp questioning left no room for response. The guilty couple’s faces already betrayed their answer.

 

How utterly ridiculous.

 

To fulfill a promise to Yu Qingyun, they had brought her into the world.

 

To ensure Yu Qingyun wouldn’t feel neglected after her sister’s birth, they insisted on joint birthday celebrations.

 

For Yu Qingyun’s sense of fairness, they were willing to sacrifice their younger daughter’s right to equal treatment, bombarding Yu Qing with desperate phone calls.

 

Yu Qing finally understood the source of her discomfort with this family.

 

She and the original owner had always felt like mere appendages to Yu Qingyun, the affection in this family never truly extended to them.

 

It was like leftover food—what Yu Qingyun didn’t want, she’d barge into their refrigerator with an invasive air and take.

 

Perhaps the original owner really was as Yu Zhengjian described: obedient, docile, and so cowed by oppression that she dared not assert her own rights.

 

Yu Qing resented the original owner’s lack of assertiveness. Yet, as she pondered in the candlelight, she seemed to glimpse another person within her.

 

Wasn’t this the same girl who, for the first eighteen years of her life, had desperately cared for her younger sister, striving to regain the favor of her adoptive parents?

 

Yu Qing thought, People keep clinging to hope for what they crave, over and over again.

 

They fantasize about a father who will care for them, a mother who will cherish them, sisters who will share a special bond, and a life bathed in love.

 

Never mind.

 

“This is all so pointless.”

 

Yu Qing lifted her gaze, sweeping it across Zhou Tian and Yu Zhengjian.

 

Her eyes lingered on the seat she had occupied, where Yu Qingyun had remained silent the entire time.

 

Seeing Yu Qingyun, Yu Qing suddenly realized the irony in their names.

 

Her name in this world wasn’t “Yu” from “Huang Nong Yu Xia” or “Qing” from “Dong Wen Xia Qing.” It was merely a single character plucked from Yu Qingyun’s name.

 

Despite having done nothing, Yu Qing suddenly felt utterly exhausted.

 

She had rushed back, travel-worn, her collar still damp and cold with sweat from the summer night.

 

“Sister, I wish you a happy birthday,” Yu Qingyun said.

 

Yu Qing turned her head and met Yu Qingyun’s gaze directly. Her words were cold and crisp. Seeing the other woman finally look her way, she offered a measured smile.

 

“But today isn’t my birthday,” Yu Qing replied. “I won’t be happy.”

 

Bang!

 

The old residential complex echoed with the thunderous slam of a door, as if the entire building trembled.

 

Rapid footsteps echoed in the dimly lit stairwell. Before the lights could even flicker on, Yu Qing had already descended to the next floor.

 

She moved with such urgency that she managed to catch the last subway train, the metallic tang of rust filling her throat.

 

Was she fleeing in disarray? Or was she like a victorious general, eager to return home?

 

Yu Qing disliked both descriptions. She didn’t want to be a deserter, nor did she aspire to be a general.

 

By the time she emerged from the subway station, it was late. The last lights of the train had been extinguished, marking the end of the night’s final journey.

 

The streets were deserted. Street vendors had raised their umbrellas, and through the glow of their stalls, sparse raindrops formed a thin, scattered curtain.

 

It was raining.

 

The rain was light, almost like the twenty-odd hours of relentless rain that had been pouring down inside Yu Qing’s heart.

 

And Yu Qing had no umbrella.

 

She could only let the rain soak her clothes.

 

As she walked, her mind replayed a chaotic loop of memories.

 

She had lost the strength to distinguish between them, and the faces of Zhou Tian, Yu Zhengjian, and Yu Qingyun flickered through her thoughts.

 

She felt like a sponge carelessly tossed into water, growing heavier the closer she got home.

 

By the time she reached her apartment building, Yu Qing was utterly exhausted.

 

Her expressionless face was filled with a deathly stillness as she gazed up at the sparsely lit building.

 

It’s so late. Jiang Nianyu must be asleep by now.

 

I wonder if she’s sleeping in the closet or in her bed tonight.

 

If she’s in the closet, could I take her out and hold her?

 

With these thoughts weighing her down, Yu Qing pushed open the door to her apartment with a heavy heart.

 

As the foyer light gently illuminated, the answer to Yu Qing’s earlier speculation became clear.

 

Jiang Nianyu wasn’t hiding anywhere.

 

She was waiting for Yu Qing in the foyer.

 

A disheveled figure sat on the shoe-changing stool, her loose hair drooping lazily, barely brushing her sleeping face. It was impossible to tell how long Jiang Nianyu had been waiting for Yu Qing here.

 

She appeared to have already washed up, her cartoon puppy-printed pajamas hanging loosely off her shoulders. For some reason, she had thrown on Yu Qing’s shirt, which Yu Qing had casually left here that morning, creating an odd, mismatched look.

 

The foyer light cast a dim, yellowish glow, making her barely noticeable from downstairs.

 

Yet this single ray of light was enough to make Yu Qing’s eyes brim with tears.

 

Yu Qing struggled to control her breathing, determined not to lose control and disturb Jiang Nianyu’s sleep.

 

But, Yu Qing… Jiang Nianyu was here solely to wait for your return. How could she possibly miss welcoming you home?

 

Jiang Nianyu, with her sharp senses, heard the faint sound from the foyer and immediately lifted her head.

 

She was still drowsy, looking slightly uncomfortable, but her face, bathed in the warm, dim light, radiated a subtle joy.

 

After awkwardly napping on the narrow shoe-changing stool for a while, she murmured in a soft, nasal voice, “You’re back.”

 

She was back.

 

Yu Qing didn’t reply, immediately crouching down to the floor.

 

Before Jiang Nianyu could react, she was enveloped in a cold, damp embrace.

 

Yu Qing pressed her face against Jiang Nianyu’s neck, suddenly recalling Jiang Nianyu’s words from a few days ago: “Kissing is just a way to show happiness.”

 

“Ah…”

 

Before she could speak, Jiang Nianyu’s loose hair was caught in a hand.

 

Caught completely off guard, she was pushed against the wall, her parted lips giving someone the perfect opportunity to take advantage.