Queen O's Timid Fugitive A - Chapter 2

2

If you were to ask Jiang Ciqing how she felt at this moment, she could only tell you that she was completely dazed. Although she had mentally prepared herself beforehand, knowing that this long-awaited reunion was inevitable.

A few days ago, at dawn, the collar left outside her door had been a “friendly” reminder from the other party.

A fleeting moment of confusion, and she was back in that place full of humiliation. The woman with a mocking smile sat on the high seat, extending her slender, fair fingers to lightly flick the brass bell on the collar, producing a crisp ringing sound.

She said, “Do you like this gift?”

Though phrased as a question, it carried an air of inevitability. The condescension of a superior would never consider the preferences of others. Even if it was a humiliating gesture, she was expected to accept it with gratitude.

It was just unclear how the other party had managed to retrieve this collar, which had been discarded in the desert. Even Jiang Ciqing herself could hardly remember where she had thrown it—just a random toss during her escape.

“This is my good friend, Jiang Ciqing.”

Just moments ago, she had been composed and even turned the tables on the probing Third Prince, Liang Anchen, provoking her anger. But now, all that agility had turned into stunned silence. Jiang Ciqing pressed her lips together, saying nothing.

Her only friend in the Southern Liang capital was still happily playing matchmaker, oblivious to how quickly the other party had befriended her and then used her to “reconnect” with Jiang Ciqing.

Perhaps Xu Fusheng didn’t even need to deliberately befriend Li Zhile. As the queen of the barbarian lands who had voluntarily submitted to Southern Liang, anyone would want to curry favor with her.

“…Ciqing is now the head of the Jiang family, renowned for their swordsmithing. Don’t let her young age fool you—her skills in forging blades are on par with those of seasoned masters.” Li Zhile kept praising Jiang Ciqing, though it was unclear what topic had led to this.

“Oh, really?” The woman across from her lifted her eyelids, casting a smiling glance in Jiang Ciqing’s direction.

Jiang Ciqing’s breath hitched, and she instinctively wanted to step back but stopped herself just in time.

“The Jiang family’s swordsmithing has long been famous, though I’ve never had the chance to witness it firsthand.”

The corners of her upturned eyes were tinged with a rich spring-like hue, her gaze shifting in a way that could captivate hearts. She teased, her lips parting: “But Miss Jiang doesn’t look like someone who spends her days hammering iron and forging blades. Instead, she resembles a delicate flower raised in a back courtyard.”

Using such words to describe an Alpha was nothing short of an insult, especially when the critic was an Omega.

Li Zhile’s smile froze, unsure how to respond.

Jiang Ciqing understood the hidden meaning behind those words but offered no rebuttal.

The other woman seemed oblivious to how she was belittling an Alpha. Her smile remained as radiant as ever, her silver-white hair cascading down her slender waist. Her peach-blossom eyes were tinged with a faint red, her features so precise they could be framed and admired as a masterpiece. Her figure, clad in a red dress, was equally striking—slender shoulders, a graceful neck, and curves that were the epitome of perfection. She exuded an innate arrogance.

Amid the extravagant ballroom, the gold and jade carvings served as her backdrop.

Subtle or overt, gazes continuously drifted toward her—not just from Alphas, but from anyone who appreciated beauty, regardless of secondary gender.

“Ciqing, would you dance with me?” Though phrased as a question, her tone made it sound like a foregone conclusion. She extended her hand, never considering the possibility of refusal.

Jiang Ciqing instinctively wanted to decline, but her body inexplicably bent forward, like an obedient puppy responding to its owner’s bell. Fortunately, although the Jiang family disapproved of such frivolities, they still made their younger generations learn these etiquettes for socializing. Her posture in accepting the invitation was at least passable.

The cello let out a long, drawn-out note, followed by a pause in the music. Jiang Ciqing was pulled forward, stepping onto the marble floor that reflected their figures like a mirror. The stained-glass windows blocked the moonlight, and the musicians tilted their bows like drawn blades, slicing down with force—a signal to their comrades. A passionate melody surged forth.

Jiang Ciqing was dragged to the center of the dance floor, forced to endure the scrutiny of the entire crowd.

The other woman, however, seemed unbothered—or perhaps she was simply accustomed to being the center of attention.

She had always been the focal point in others’ eyes. Even if she fell into the deepest abyss, she would still carry a radiant glow, like a pearl tarnished with mud, unable to conceal its innate brilliance.

Jiang Ciqing followed passively, seemingly in the lead but actually trapped by Xu Fusheng’s grip on her shoulders and neck, their fingers interlaced, her left hand held tightly, pulled forward or pushed back like a marionette, her movements slightly stiff.

The blocking patch on the back of her neck, hidden beneath her black hair, loosened slightly during the dance, revealing a gap that let out a faint, fresh scent of green bamboo.

The Omega’s eyes darkened. The red dress, flaring like a fishtail, rippled with each movement, folding like waves.

“Jiang Ciqing…” She rolled the name around in her mouth, then relaxed her brows. Though her smile was bright, her eyes were icy. “It really is a good name.”

Jiang Ciqing remained silent, having turned into a mute since the moment she saw Xu Fusheng. Not even the simplest syllable had escaped her lips.

Her thin shirt clung to her slender back, her shoulder blades pressed flat. The usually aloof young woman now seemed even more distant, almost coldly indifferent.

Her already tall frame had grown slightly taller after her presentation, her shoulders broader, her arms longer—just enough to envelop the other woman, shielding her from prying eyes like an umbrella.

In an unnoticed corner, Xu Fusheng’s fingertips brushed over Jiang Ciqing’s knuckles, feeling the rough layers of calluses. Unlike her refined appearance, these hands resembled those of a laborer from the slums.

“How did you get rid of the calluses back then?”

The woman in her arms asked again, the corners of her eyes shimmering with moisture.

“Soaking them in milk?”

She guessed like a child, then shook her head in denial. “That’s too slow.”

“Vinegar?”

“Or did you choose the simplest and fastest method—slicing them off with a knife? After all, the Jiang family’s home is filled with famous blades and weapons…”

Xu Fusheng’s tone was soft and teasing, her voice lilting upward at the end, carrying a flirtatious undertone—like her own tequila pheromones, the intoxicating aroma of strong liquor swirling around your senses the moment the bottle is opened. It was like an untamed wild horse, deliberately prancing before your eyes.

Jiang Ciqing lowered her eyelids slightly, hiding the darkness in her eyes. Her dry throat struggled for a long time before finally squeezing out a cold, indifferent reply: “I don’t understand what Miss Xu is muttering about.”

Xu Fusheng’s steps faltered.

Before the other could react, Jiang Ciqing seized the opportunity to take control. With a slight exertion, she tightened her grip on the other’s hand, her thumb pressing into the soft hollow of the slender waist—so delicate it felt like it could shatter with the slightest force.

With effortless ease, she pushed the other woman sideways.

The music reached its climax. The crystal chandelier overhead blazed brightly, its scorching light falling on the swirling red dress, like a priceless rose in full bloom.

Silver high heels tapped against the marble, the piano keys echoing in response. Strands of hair brushed past her cheeks like fine silk.

As the other woman completed her spin, Jiang Ciqing steadied the rose—and in doing so, impaled herself on its thorns.

Someone who always placed herself in the dominant position could never tolerate such an act of defiance. Xu Fusheng immediately tightened her grip on Jiang Ciqing’s left hand, squeezing hard.

An S-rank Omega was not as fragile as others. After all, this was the woman who had conquered the notoriously chaotic and bloody barbarian lands. She wasn’t lacking in strength.

Jiang Ciqing was forcibly pulled forward, control wrested from her. A bone-cracking pain shot through her left hand.

Xu Fusheng lifted her chin, unwilling to let her off easily.

Someone accustomed to being high and mighty could never allow others to defy her. She retaliated without hesitation.

The music gradually softened, leaving only intermittent notes lingering reluctantly. Around them, couples had already stopped dancing, bowing to each other before parting.

Of course, there were also love-struck pairs lingering, waiting for the next song—though none remained in the final dance pose like they did.

Xu Fusheng, having reclaimed some of her pride, relaxed slightly. The hand that had been gripping Jiang Ciqing’s finally loosened.

But then, someone who had been waiting nearby spoke up: “Would Miss Xu honor me with a dance?”

Xu Fusheng frowned slightly, instinctively turning to look.

The host of the ball stood nearby, having shed his earlier loose attire for a black tuxedo with a shawl collar. His golden hair was slicked back with gel, his azure eyes openly displaying his pursuit of the beautiful Omega before him.

Xu Fusheng held an irresistible allure for every Alpha present. Who wouldn’t want to tame the world’s only S-rank Omega? But most hesitated, wary of the higher-ups’ stance. Though Southern Liang had accepted Xu Fusheng’s surrender, they had yet to make their position clear, as if still observing and deliberating. Thus, the crowd held back, not daring to approach, leaving the opportunity to Jiang Ciqing.

But as one of the current crown prince candidates, Liang Anchen had no such reservations. She didn’t need to worry about whether the emperor would suspect her of colluding with the barbarian lands. Not only had she organized this ball for Xu Fusheng, but she also intended to invite her for the first dance of the evening.

However…

Her useless servants had been too slow, making her late to the ballroom. She could only watch helplessly as Jiang Ciqing and Xu Fusheng stepped onto the dance floor, gritting her teeth as she waited on the sidelines.

So the moment their hands parted, she hurried forward.

The competition for the throne was growing increasingly fierce. Though she held a place among the contenders, she was the weakest of the three. Not only was she the only female Alpha, but her maternal lineage also paled in comparison to her two elder brothers. Over the years, she had relied on desperate efforts to win over court officials, barely gaining a slight advantage.

Otherwise, she wouldn’t have lost her composure over Jiang Ciqing’s hypothetical choice.

Her eagerness toward Xu Fusheng stemmed from the same logic—first seeing her as an excellent ally, then as a suitable marriage partner.

She turned to Jiang Ciqing. Stealing a dance partner was indeed somewhat rash, but before she could explain, she saw Jiang Ciqing turn and leave without hesitation.

Compared to before, she was being remarkably accommodating.

Liang Anchen’s smile widened. She naturally bent forward, extending her hand.

Unlike the earlier awkwardness of youth, her movements were skilled and graceful, her retreating steps and raised hand all perfectly measured. The black tuxedo and red dress also complemented each other beautifully.

Xu Fusheng curled her lips into a faint smile, the corners of her eyes catching sight of the retreating figure that showed no hesitation or reluctance.

Of course.

She was that kind of person—a heartless ingrate. No matter how much kindness or indulgence she received, it couldn’t stop her from wanting to leave.

Her lowered eyelids concealed the emotions in her ruby-like eyes. The woman smiled charmingly, revealing nothing of her thoughts.

Liang Anchen waited for a moment, then glanced up in confusion.

Then, a hand as tender as spring onions settled into her palm, its fingers cool but filling her with inexplicable delight.

The orchestra, having finally spotted their employer on the dance floor, paused briefly before launching into another lively tune that filled the hall.

Jiang Ciqing’s steps didn’t falter. She strode across the polished floor, leaving the bustling crowd behind. Her friend Li Zhile hurried after her, wanting to say something, but Jiang Ciqing waved her off, her tone as calm and steady as ever: “Zhile, it’s too stuffy in here. I need some fresh air.”

Li Zhile froze. By the time she regained her senses, all that remained was Jiang Ciqing’s retreating figure.