Omega Taming the Black Moonlight - Chapter 27

“Do you resent me?” Ji Yilian asked abruptly.

Her question cut straight to the heart of the matter.

Yan Liu had never been one to shy away from confronting issues directly, and she didn’t flinch under the scrutiny.

The girl pressed her lips together and nodded emphatically.

“Of course! Of course I resent you.”

“Every day, I scrimped and saved, thinking of ways to help you. As long as you were doing well, my heart would be at peace. But you’re like a stone that can’t be warmed—hard, unyielding, and increasingly distant in public. Don’t you think that’s going too far?”

“We were practically raised together, as close as if we’d worn split-crotch pants as children. Yet no one knows how close we used to be. People even compare me to you, saying I’m a failure. They say you’re a once-in-a-century genius, while I’m just wasting Federation subsidies.”

“But the truth is, you and I both know I never took a single Talent Potion. Part of that was my own fault—I relied on you too much, trusted you completely, and pinned all my hopes on you. I wanted to give you all the resources so you could take off quickly. But Ji Yilian…”

Yan Liu gazed at Ji Yilian with her large, teary almond eyes, her voice soft and deliberate as she asked, “Do you truly bear no responsibility at all?”

“As your vision for your future and ambitions grew clearer, why did you never tell me that what I was doing was wrong? When you disapproved of my actions, why did you never say anything, not even to suggest I treat myself better? You let me waste resources like a moth drawn to a flame, squandering my vitality and withering away bit by bit.”

“Ji Yilian, do you think this was right? You saw me walking down a path leading to an abyss.”

“Yet you simply watched, standing by as I continued down that path, while you soared higher and farther away…”

As she spoke, Yan Liu’s voice trembled with genuine sorrow and pain.

Perhaps it was because, having transmigrated, she had absorbed the Original Host’s suppressed emotions, finally voicing all the unspoken truths the Original Host had never dared to confront.

Or perhaps these words were simply the truth, a brutal reality the Original Host had lacked the courage to face.

Yan Liu was playing the role of someone who openly confronted her wounds, even tearing open the scabs to reveal the raw, bleeding flesh to Ji Yilian.

She was healing herself.

She was healing the original Yan Liu.

Each word hung in the air, falling like stones into the depths of Yan Liu’s heart.

Yan Liu felt a stinging sensation at the tip of her nose, an inexplicable urge to cry. It was as if a long-hidden grievance had finally been seen, allowing it to be released.

This can’t be my emotion.

Is it the Original Host’s?

And so, as the words finished, Yan Liu’s eyes unconsciously filled with tears.

Ji Yilian stared at her, stunned. Before she could even move her lips, Yan Liu blinked, and two large tears spilled over her lashes.

They rolled down Yan Liu’s slightly pale, delicate cheeks, leaving shimmering trails.

The girl’s long, curled lashes framed her almond-shaped eyes, which seemed even brighter through her tears. Yet her reddened nose and fragile shoulders made her appear as if she might shatter at any moment, as if she were trembling slightly from sorrow.

In all her life, Ji Yilian had never experienced such a profound tremor in her soul.

Almost involuntarily, she reached out to wipe the tears from Yan Liu’s face.

“…I’m sorry.”

Before reason could intervene, Ji Yilian’s instincts had already compelled her to utter the apology.

Is this the first time I’ve ever said sorry in my life? She didn’t know.

The feeling was utterly foreign.

But the words felt right, like something she owed Yan Liu, a debt long overdue.

After speaking, she felt a sense of emptiness in her heart, yet also a strange fullness.

She cupped Yan Liu’s face in her hands, her brow furrowing.

For some reason, a faint ache tugged at her heart.

Ji Yilian couldn’t understand what was happening to her. Could it be that Yan Liu’s pheromones were so intoxicating that she had been unconsciously seduced, leading to this?

Yan Liu shook her head, nestling against Ji Yilian’s chest and nuzzling closer, wiping the remaining tear streaks on her clothes.

At that moment, Yan Liu couldn’t quite discern whether she was acting under the influence of the Original Host’s lingering affection and dependence, or… whether she was still performing.

Was she using this emotional atmosphere to play her part, to win over Ji Yilian?

She couldn’t tell.

In this intimate setting, she found herself unable to clearly distinguish her own feelings.

Perhaps it was because she was still immersed in the role, still playing her part in this drama?

“Ji Yilian,” Yan Liu murmured, “you have to be kinder to me now, to make up for it.”

The girl’s hands still clutched Ji Yilian’s clothes, gripping them like a lifeline, something to cling to for reassurance.

Her vulnerability was palpable, evoking an overwhelming urge to protect her.

Ji Yilian barely registered what she was saying, instinctively promising whatever her aching heart compelled her to.

“Okay,” she said.

She even awkwardly patted Yan Liu on the back.

Only after completing the gesture did she freeze, as if suddenly remembering something. She pushed Yan Liu away.

Yan Liu stumbled, nearly colliding with the spacecraft’s cabin door.

When she regained her balance, she shot Ji Yilian a resentful look.

Ji Yilian avoided her gaze, looking inexplicably uncomfortable. She murmured, “We’re here. Time to get off.”

Reminded by her words, Yan Liu finally noticed that the scenery outside had changed.

They were hovering above the Academy, about to land!

Ahhh! I’m going to embarrass myself in the competition!

Yan Liu’s legs went weak as she recalled the emergency combat training Ji Yilian had given her, the few fighting techniques she had learned. Her heart pounded with anxiety.

She could handle exams—all she needed was to study, memorize, and understand the material.

But fighting? That was beyond her.

The girl drooped like a frost-bitten eggplant, already losing her spirit at the thought of humiliating herself in the arena.

Watching her from behind, Ji Yilian couldn’t help but smile, her lips curving slightly.

As Yan Liu brushed past Ji Yilian, she casually tossed out a remark:

“Why are you backing down before the fight even begins? What if you actually win?”

Yan Liu jerked her head up, but by then Ji Yilian had already quickened her pace after exiting the hovercraft, walking away as if she didn’t know Yan Liu, leaving only her retreating figure.

Hmph, so what if she’s tall and has long legs? Yan Liu thought resentfully. She walks so fast, I can’t even catch up!

Of course, Yan Liu had no intention of chasing after her anyway.

Ji Yilian’s words were clearly meant to tease her.

As a rookie whose Spiritual Power level hadn’t even been tested yet—a complete beginner—how could she possibly defeat Ji Yilian?

Feeling stifled, Yan Liu’s face tightened as she approached the arena, her expression unusually serious.

But perhaps because she had been resting well these past two days, even her stern demeanor carried a hint of jade-like loveliness.

“Yan Liu!” Bess, who had been waiting in the distance, brightened at the sight of her and squeezed through the crowd to approach.

Seeing Bess again after nearly two days, Yan Liu almost didn’t recognize her. She still felt somewhat unfamiliar.

After all, she had only met Bess once, and their familiarity couldn’t compare to her bond with Ji Yilian.

However, Yan Liu still remembered Bess’s kindness in lending her the Smart Brain and sharing her Spiritual Power training methods after they left the arena.

Recalling this, the girl’s smile brightened with genuine warmth.

“Bess,” she said, her dimples deepening at the corners of her lips, like the freshest wildflowers blooming by the roadside in spring—their colors indescribable.

Perhaps a tender yellow, a pale lavender, or a soft pink.

In essence, Yan Liu’s presence was like those flowers.

A single bloom might seem unremarkable, but when clustered together, they created a captivating and soothing effect.

Bess struggled to articulate her feelings upon seeing Yan Liu.

Amidst the bustling crowd, Alphas, Betas, and Omegas alike were fiercely vying for recognition, each regarding the others as rivals.

The air was thick with the ambition and competitive spirit of those striving for fame and fortune.

So, when Yan Liu appeared, she was like a delicate bouquet of flowers—unassuming, uncompetitive, simply allowing you to appreciate the beauty of the scenery itself. And your heart would skip a beat.

Yan Liu lacked any aura of ambition or competitiveness; she seemed almost otherworldly.

Bess stared at Yan Liu for a moment, realizing her attention was becoming excessive.

“You look even more beautiful than you did the other day,” she said sincerely, her emerald eyes like twin pools reflecting Yan Liu’s face.

Yan Liu blinked, unaccustomed to such direct compliments.

“Thank you. You look beautiful too,” she replied instinctively.

Bess immediately beamed with the cheerful grin of a golden retriever being greeted.

“Really, Yan Liu? Then who do you think is prettier—me or Ji Yilian?” She practically pressed her face right up to Yan Liu’s eyes.

In a distant corner, someone sat alone, casting a cold glance in their direction.

Didn’t I warn this foolish Omega not to trust Alphas?

How could Yan Liu let other Alphas get so close, especially a fickle one like Bess?