Marked by My Omega Rival After Moving In (GL, ABO) - Chapter 31

Tumor Hospital, Inpatient Department

Yu Xiaoxiao sat silently on the bench outside the hospital room, staring blankly at the floor.

It was a tumor. A br3ast tumor.

The initial physical exam suggested it might be malignant. She had already been admitted and was scheduled for a biopsy early the next morning.

It had been a coincidence, really. Yu Danchun had been coughing for a few days and feeling off—probably just caught a chill. But at her age, over sixty, her body wasn’t what it used to be. People around her insisted she go to the hospital to get it checked out. They did a lung scan—nothing wrong there, but the scan picked up something suspicious in the br3ast. After more tests, the tumor was found.

All night, it was Yu Danchun’s secretary running around: contacting specialists, handling paperwork, speaking with doctors. Yu Xiaoxiao had no experience with any of this. She’d only been called in after her mom was admitted, left to wander helplessly like a headless chicken.

Now her dad was inside with her mom, and Secretary Wu was off trying to arrange a specialist consultation. Yu Xiaoxiao had been gently ushered out of the room under the excuse that the couple needed time alone to talk.

She sat dazed, staring at a small spot on the white floor, unable to snap out of it.

Everything felt unreal—like she was still in a dream.

…Her mom was always so healthy, so full of energy. Just barely past sixty.

How could it be a tumor?

She had no idea how long she’d been sitting there in a fog, until a voice called out.

“Miss Yu.”

It was Secretary Wu. Yu Xiaoxiao looked up to see her rushing over, holding a stack of reports in one hand and a bottle of milk in the other. She stopped in front of her and held out the milk.

It was sweet milk—Yu Xiaoxiao’s favorite brand.

It had been warmed up. The hospital air-conditioning was a bit chilly, so it felt hot and strangely comforting in her hands.

“Chairwoman Yu asked me to bring this for you,” Wu said. “She said it’s late, and you should go home and rest.”

Seeing how pale Yu Xiaoxiao looked, she added gently, “You really should go. I’ll handle things here. If you need anything, just call me. Right now, it’s just a possibility—it might not be anything. Chairwoman Yu’s always been pretty healthy. Try not to worry too much.”

Yu Xiaoxiao nodded slowly, still in a daze.

“I… I’ll go home in a bit,” she murmured.

Wu looked relieved. “Alright, I’m heading back in. The chairwoman still has a few things to go over for the company. Be safe on your way home, Miss Yu.”

Wu stepped back into the hospital room. A few minutes later, she hurried out again, said she needed to go to the office, and then disappeared down the hallway.

The door to the hospital room had been left slightly ajar. Through the gap, Yu Xiaoxiao could faintly hear her parents talking.

“Chun…” Her father’s voice came through. “It’s all company stuff again… Since you’re in the hospital now, maybe take this time to rest a bit? Put some things down?”

Yu Danchun sighed. “What can I do? The company’s at a critical stage. Our e-commerce branch just launched, and we’re about to open a new product line. I need to keep an eye on things. I want to hand over control, but to whom?”

“Old brands in fast-moving consumer goods are hard to maintain now. Dawn is struggling—we’re hitting problems everywhere.” She shook her head. “But our kids are still young. It’s not the time for them to take over yet… Yaoyao is promising—she’s talented and hardworking. If I train her for a few more years, she could take the lead. But it’s too soon.”

“As for our Xiaoxiao, she’s still just a child. She’s not interested in this stuff. As long as she understands enough not to get tricked when handling her shares in the future, that’s good enough for me.” Danchun chuckled. “I’ve worked hard my whole life so my daughter could have the freedom to choose her own path.”

Her husband held her hand tightly. “Chun…”

“Sometimes I do think,” Danchun continued, “if someone could take over for me, maybe Dawn could really bounce back. But even if that’s true, Bingsong, tell me honestly—if our Xiaoxiao became like that kid from the Xiang family, would we really be happy?”

“You mean Miss Xiang?”

“Yes. I’ve dealt with her a few times. She’s driven to the extreme, working nonstop. So young, and her health’s already a mess. She’s so busy she doesn’t even have time to smile.”

“She’s impressive, no doubt, but I’d never want my daughter to live like that. She’s our child—we’re supposed to protect her. If Xiaoxiao turned out like that, we’d be heartbroken…”

Talking about her daughter softened Danchun’s usually sharp tone.

“If Xiaoxiao can stay happy every day, stay healthy, do what she loves and live freely, that’s all I could ever ask for.”

“I used to think I was still young, full of energy, and that I had to charge ahead no matter what. But maybe it’s time to slow down and accept my age. I’ve done enough.”

She sighed. “The company is big now. Even if I’m gone, what I’ve built will be enough for Xiaoxiao to live a happy, carefree life. What else could I possibly want?”

“Chun,” her husband said disapprovingly. “Don’t say things like that…”

But even so, the thought of giving up the empire she’d built brought a flicker of regret to Danchun’s face.

She squeezed his hand and shook her head. “I just don’t want to burden our child with something so heavy. Maybe this is the time to let go… to go with the flow…”

The door suddenly burst open.

“No way!”

Yu Xiaoxiao stood at the entrance, eyes red and wide, her voice firm and serious as she spoke each word clearly.

“If there’s something to learn, I’ll learn it. If there’s something to take over, give it to me. I won’t let you give up.”

Later, Yu Xiaoxiao sat in the stairwell, covering her face, trying to breathe deeply.

Again and again and again.

The stairwell was quiet except for the sound of her shaking breaths, each one laced with sobs.

She didn’t know what to do.

After she blurted those words out, her parents had exchanged a surprised look.

“Xiaoxiao.” Her mom smiled—touched, but still a little helpless—and called her over. “Come here.”

But Yu Xiaoxiao recognized that look. It was the way adults look at a child—not someone ready to shoulder a heavy responsibility. Her mom didn’t think she could do it.

She couldn’t bear to look at her mother’s face, now showing signs of aging. She was also scared of her own immaturity. So she ran, fleeing to this quiet corner where she could no longer see the way forward.

The bottle of sweet milk beside her had long gone cold, icy to the touch. This night had felt endlessly long and yet gone in the blink of an eye—like the whole world had changed.

Yu Xiaoxiao didn’t know if she could really learn what she needed to. The company was so big, and she had never been involved in its operations. Could she actually do this? What could she even contribute? Could she carry this responsibility?

Could she really… do it?

Her phone rang.

She answered in a haze and heard a voice on the other end. “Yu Xiaoxiao, how are you holding up?”

It took her a few seconds to realize it was Xiang Shuhuai.

“Xiang Shuhuai…”

“It’s me. Yu Xiaoxiao.” Her voice was calm but filled with concern, like she could tell something was wrong. “What happened?”

Hearing that quiet, cool, caring voice was like a drowning person suddenly grabbing hold of driftwood.

Yu Xiaoxiao’s throat tightened, and tears welled up again.

“Xiang Shuhuai, my mom, I…”

She tried to stay calm as she spoke, but the more she wiped at her tears, the harder they came. By the time she finished explaining everything that had happened, she was crying so hard she couldn’t even see.

“What do I do, Xiang Shuhuai? What do I do…” she sobbed.

There was a pause before the voice said,

“I’ll help you.”

“…Really?”

“Of course,” Xiang Shuhuai replied. “I’ll help you. I’ll tell you what to do. It’s going to be okay, Yu Xiaoxiao.”

Her voice was still so steady, so certain—like cold, clear moonlight. Just like always, the world might be falling apart, but she remained the same. And that made Yu Xiaoxiao want to believe—believe that Xiang Shuhuai really did have a way out of this mess, a way to lead her through the darkness.

She asked softly, “Do you trust me, Yu Xiaoxiao?”

Choking back her tears, Yu Xiaoxiao answered, “Yeah.”

“Good,” said Xiang Shuhuai. “Then here’s what you need to do first.”

Yu Xiaoxiao wiped her face, stood up, and forced herself to focus. “—What is it?”

“You need to go home and get some sleep,” Xiang Shuhuai said. “It’s really late, and you’re exhausted. Yu Xiaoxiao, you need to rest.”

“…Okay.”

“Can you still drive?” she asked. “If you’re feeling too emotional, don’t get behind the wheel. I’ll send a car to pick you up.”

Yu Xiaoxiao wiped her eyes and asked through her tears, “Will you be there?”

“…Where?”

“At home. Will you be home?”

After a pause, Xiang Shuhuai answered, “…I will. I’ll wait for you.”

When Yu Xiaoxiao got home and opened the door, Xiang Shuhuai was indeed there, standing in the entryway waiting for her.

The house was quiet, lit only by a few soft, warm lamps. Xiang Shuhuai stood in their glow, dressed in a loose, comfortable set of home clothes, surrounded by a faint, calming scent of cool mint.

She looked at Yu Xiaoxiao and reached out a hand.

“Yu—”

Yu Xiaoxiao rushed forward and hugged her tightly.

She had already cried at the hospital and hadn’t planned on crying again. But in this soft, warm embrace, she was suddenly overwhelmed with emotion.

All her fear and panic finally had somewhere to go. It was like a dam breaking—her tears poured out uncontrollably.

“Sob… Xiang Shuhuai… Xiang Shuhuai—”

Xiang Shuhuai clearly wasn’t used to being hugged, but she didn’t step back or pull away. Instead, she gently raised a hand and began slowly, tenderly patting Yu Xiaoxiao’s back.

“It’s okay now, Yu Xiaoxiao,” she whispered. “It’s okay.”

Yu Xiaoxiao cried for a long, long time, until she was completely drained. She didn’t even remember how she made it through, but by the time she came back to her senses, she’d already taken a shower and crawled into bed, her body still warm and damp.

Only a dim bedside lamp was on. Xiang Shuhuai stood by the desk, seeming to brew a pot of tea. Steam curled up from the spout, swirled around her arm, and then slowly faded away.

“Why are you making tea?” Yu Xiaoxiao asked, her voice hoarse from crying. She sniffled and asked quietly, “Aren’t you going to sleep?”

“I am,” Xiang Shuhuai replied, placing the lid on the pot. “It’s for you to use tomorrow. After crying so much, you can use it on your eyes to reduce swelling.”

“Oh…” Yu Xiaoxiao nodded under the covers. “Have you used it before?”

“Mm,” Xiang Shuhuai said.

The tea was soon ready. When she finished, she lingered by the desk for a moment, looking hesitant.

“Um… should I…” Xiang Shuhuai asked, unsure, “do you need me?”

Yu Xiaoxiao nodded firmly.

“Don’t go,” she said, looking up at her. “I don’t want to be alone… I’m scared.”

“…Alright.”

So Xiang Shuhuai came over, turned off the lamp, and sat gently on the other side of the bed, removing the shielding patch from the back of her neck.

That cool, minty scent quietly spread through the room.

It felt like a lullaby with no sound, like drifting stars in the vast night sky, or maybe a soft, warm hug that made everything feel safe and sleepily calm.

“Go to sleep, Yu Xiaoxiao.”

Xiang Shuhuai reached out and gently brushed aside a strand of her hair.

Her fingers were cold—soft and cool, still holding a bit of warmth from the tea she’d touched. Yu Xiaoxiao closed her eyes.

The last thing she heard was:

“Good night.”

That night, Yu Xiaoxiao drifted in and out of dreams.

She first dreamt she was a tiny planet, spinning alone in the vast, dark, quiet embrace of space.

Then, a tiny mint sprout pushed through the soil on her planet, growing with stubborn strength. Its thin green stem stretched out, and at the very tip, a pale white blossom bloomed, hazy and glowing like a small moon.

Suddenly, a cosmic storm swept through, and both she and the mint flower were pulled into the violent chaos. A raging whirlwind of space debris roared toward them. In a panic, Yu Xiaoxiao reached out, trying desperately to protect the fragile little moon-flower.

—But just as she was about to touch the flower, her hand suddenly turned into a wing covered in feathers.

Yu Xiaoxiao had turned into a small golden bird. Her injured wings were weak and powerless, and in the blink of an eye, she was swept into a torrential storm. The huge raindrops stung her, and the tiny bird was more helpless than a broken twig or a fallen leaf.

Then, through the blurred chaos of rain and wind, the little bird caught a glimpse of a glass statue.

She couldn’t see the expression on the statue girl’s face, only that the towering figure had crouched down and gently reached out, shielding the little golden bird in her arms.

Through the transparent, fragile body of the statue, the soaked bird could still see the storm raging outside. The wind howled, and the pounding rain seemed strong enough to tear through trees and earth. But for her, the storm had stopped.

The statue’s hand was cold, like moonlight.

Those moonlight-like fingers gently brushed through her soaked, messy feathers—cold and soft. Again, and again…

“—Yu Xiaoxiao.”

Still half-asleep, she mumbled, “…Mm?”

“Yu Xiaoxiao,” the voice called softly. “Time to get up.”

The storm in her dream faded away.

With a soft “swish,” light flooded her vision—the blackout curtains had likely been drawn open.

Still groggy, Yu Xiaoxiao burrowed into her pillow, trying to avoid the sunlight and hide her head under the covers.

Suddenly, something cold touched her neck. She shivered and opened her eyes in surprise.

Xiang Shuhuai was standing by the bed, her hand still resting lightly against Yu Xiaoxiao’s neck. She was fully dressed, clearly ready for the day, and had come to wake her.

When Yu Xiaoxiao opened her eyes, Xiang Shuhuai started to pull her hand away. “Time to—ah!”

She barely managed a startled yelp before Yu Xiaoxiao grabbed her wrist and yanked her onto the bed, pulling her hand under the covers.

Xiang Shuhuai was completely thrown off. Still holding hands, she called out cautiously, “Yu Xiaoxiao—?”

“Big Ice Block,” Yu Xiaoxiao murmured, still half-asleep. She closed her eyes again, sounding like a sleepy little kid. “Why are your hands so cold… not warm at all…”

Yu Xiaoxiao’s hands were naturally warm, and she had just woken up, making her even toastier than usual. As she wrapped her fingers around Xiang Shuhuai’s, she felt like a little heater. Held in that selfish yet gentle warmth, Xiang Shuhuai froze up, her fingers stiff with tension.

“…They’ve always been like this,” she said quietly.

“Well, that’s not good,” Yu Xiaoxiao mumbled. “You’re way too cold. Is your health really that bad…”

After a while, once Xiang Shuhuai’s hands felt warmer and not like blocks of ice anymore, Yu Xiaoxiao finally let go.

“All done!” she said cheerfully, sitting up in bed with a proud grin. “You’re all warm now, right?”

Xiang Shuhuai turned away and walked toward the desk, saying nothing.

Yu Xiaoxiao tilted her head in confusion and stared at her. “—Xiang Shuhuai? What’s wrong? Are you mad at me?”

Suddenly, something small came flying at her.

Yu Xiaoxiao caught it on reflex—it was wet. She looked down and saw it was a small bundle wrapped in gauze, soaked in tea. The gauze was stained a pale brown, like a little homemade herbal compress.

“Put it on your eyes,” Xiang Shuhuai said as she sorted papers on the desk without turning around. “After breakfast, we’ll visit Chairman Yu at the hospital.”

“Okay,” Yu Xiaoxiao replied, pressing the gauze against one eye. “Got it—”

“I’m heading back to my room to work on the proposal,” Xiang Shuhuai said. “Call me when you’re done.”

She gathered her notebook and files and was about to leave the room.

Still pressing the gauze to her eye, Yu Xiaoxiao called after her, “Xiang Shuhuai? Are you mad? I’m sorry—”

“…I’m not.”

“But—”

“I’m not mad.” Xiang Shuhuai’s voice came quickly. “…I’m going now.”

She spoke fast, her footsteps even quicker, but as she passed the bed, she accidentally hit her shin against the bedframe and bent over in pain with a quiet, pained “ah…!”

“Xiang Shuhuai!” Yu Xiaoxiao scrambled out of bed to check on her. “Are you okay?”

Just then, Xiang Shuhuai looked up—and their eyes met. In that moment, Yu Xiaoxiao saw the faint blush coloring her pale cheeks, her dark eyes misty and flustered.

“…Your face is really red,” Yu Xiaoxiao blurted.

She blinked, then noticed the red tips of Xiang Shuhuai’s ears. That’s when it hit her. “Xiang Shuhuai… are you embarrassed?”

Xiang Shuhuai’s eyes went wide.

She stared at Yu Xiaoxiao, face burning, completely speechless. After a long moment, she suddenly stood up and fled the room in a hurry.

At the hospital.

Xiang Shuhuai had driven her there. She said she needed to talk to Yu Xiaoxiao’s mom alone, so she entered the room by herself. The nurse was also asked to step out.

Yu Xiaoxiao figured it must be about business. She quietly waited outside, holding Xiang Shuhuai’s bag like a good girl.

Barely three or five minutes passed before the door opened again and Xiang Shuhuai walked out.

“Xiang Shuhuai!” Yu Xiaoxiao stood up, surprised. “That was fast!”

Xiang Shuhuai took the bag she handed over. “Chairman Yu wants to see you.”

“Oh, okay…” Yu Xiaoxiao nodded, then asked, “What about you?”

“I’ll wait outside.”

Satisfied with the answer, Yu Xiaoxiao nodded and turned toward the room.

But standing before the white hospital door, she hesitated. The light door suddenly felt impossibly heavy. She took a deep breath before finally pushing it open.

Her mom had changed into a patient gown for the afternoon check-up. Though she looked serious, frowning over the document in her hands, she didn’t look sick at all—sharp, capable, still very much the strong, decisive Chairman Yu.

Seeing her like this made Yu Xiaoxiao feel a rush of emotion. Her lips pouted, and her eyes reddened.

Yu Danchun smiled and beckoned her over. “Aww, come here, my little girl.”

She set the proposal aside and playfully pinched Yu Xiaoxiao’s cheeks like she used to when she was a kid, squishing her face until Yu Xiaoxiao complained, “Moooom—”

“I’m handing you over to little President Xiang now,” Yu Danchun said. “Learn as much as you can from her.”

Yu Xiaoxiao nodded. “Okay…”

“If…” Her mom paused, looking at her with a mix of tenderness and concern. “Xiaoxiao, if she ever bullies you, or if something’s wrong, just tell me, okay? Don’t ever force yourself.”

That Big Ice Block? Bully me? Yu Xiaoxiao wanted to laugh. She’s so skinny and quiet—I’m the one more likely to bully her.

“Why, Mom? What did you two talk about?” she asked, noticing her mom’s strange look.

“It’s nothing, just business. Don’t worry about it.” Yu Danchun brushed it off, then reminded her, “If you want to learn, then focus on learning. Don’t overthink. I’m still here, and no matter what, Dawnlight won’t fall apart. Don’t wear yourself out.”

They chatted a bit more before her mom waved her off. “Alright, go on now. The nurse and your dad will go with me for the check-up. Don’t just stand around. All your bouncing is giving me a headache.”

Yu Xiaoxiao’s eyes widened. “How am I bouncing—”

Even though she felt wronged, she still huffed and puffed and let herself be shooed out of the room. She quietly closed the door behind her and found Xiang Shuhuai waiting in the hallway, head down, quiet as ever.

She tiptoed over and whispered, “Xiang Shuhuai—?”

“…Yeah.” Xiang Shuhuai snapped out of it and stood up. “Let’s go.”

Yu Xiaoxiao followed. “Where to?”

“My company,” she said. “Starting today, I’ll teach you Dawnlight’s operations. You’ll need to be able to step in for Chairman Yu as soon as possible. I asked An Ning to prepare a study guide for you, tailored to your situation. You’ll see it when we get there. Also…”

As they walked, Xiang Shuhuai explained Yu Xiaoxiao’s upcoming learning schedule—clear, detailed, and thorough.

The hospital hallway was a pale, sterile white. The lights above were bright but cold. They lit up Xiang Shuhuai’s thin, emotionless face, making her seem just like an iceberg—cold, distant, unreachable. When she talked about work, she was once again the calm, perfect Big Ice Block—completely different from how she was before.

Xiang Shuhuai—she was someone who could sit across from her mother and discuss business as equals. Just like at all those banquets Yu Xiaoxiao had watched from afar.

This wasn’t the first time Yu Xiaoxiao knew that. But it was the first time she truly realized what it meant.

Her mom… and Xiang Shuhuai… they both saw her as just a kid.

Feeling Yu Xiaoxiao’s gaze, Xiang Shuhuai paused, a little uneasy. She pressed her lips together, then quietly asked, “…What’s wrong?”

“Um… just,” Yu Xiaoxiao asked, “what were you guys talking about?”

“Business,” Xiang Shuhuai said. She had planned to leave it at that but added, “Dawnlight’s new product is moving into social retail. I’ll be helping with tech and marketing. That’s how I can justify bringing you with me.”

Yu Xiaoxiao blinked. “Why do you need a reason?”

“Because Chairman Yu didn’t have to work with me. We both benefit from this deal. It gives me a proper reason to support you.”

“…Why wouldn’t you have a reason?” Yu Xiaoxiao said. “We’re friends, aren’t we? That’s reason enough.”

Xiang Shuhuai paused.

She let out a soft laugh—quiet and almost bitter, like she was mocking herself.

“Me?” she said. “No one would believe that.”

She said it flatly, her voice low. Her expression didn’t change, but she seemed… lonely. Looking at her like this, Yu Xiaoxiao suddenly felt that she wasn’t so distant anymore. She looked fragile, like she might vanish if Yu Xiaoxiao didn’t hold on tight.

“I believe you.” That thought made Yu Xiaoxiao reach out and grab her wrist. She looked her in the eye and said firmly, “I believe in you, Xiang Shuhuai.”

Her wrist was just as cold as always.

Xiang Shuhuai was so thin—Yu Xiaoxiao could probably wrap both her hands around her wrists. And the hospital’s air conditioning was turned way up, making her skin icy to the touch. Just like that glass statue from the dream—cold and delicate.

She really seemed like she might melt in her hands.

Xiang Shuhuai tried to speak. She opened her mouth but said nothing in the end.

She looked down at her wrist for a moment. Yu Xiaoxiao’s hand was so warm—almost too warm, like the sun. So warm it felt like it might melt her. Naive, stubborn, gentle sunshine.

“…Don’t believe in me,” Xiang Shuhuai said softly. “I’m not someone worth trusting.”

“Then,” Yu Xiaoxiao asked, eyes wide, “did you lie to me?”

Under that gaze, Xiang Shuhuai couldn’t say a single lie.

Her voice was rough. “…No.”

“Then that’s enough.” Yu Xiaoxiao smiled. “You didn’t lie to me—so of course I believe you. Because we’re friends, Xiang Shuhuai.”